VI

A quick intake of air woke Jonathan while his nose emitted a snarl. He had fallen asleep on his couch. A tired light illuminated floating motes of dust as the sun set. The sound of tires pushing dirt echoed through the house as a car stopped up front. —It’s him—thought Jonathan. He ran out. A gray, obviously used and quite dusty station wagon had stopped, leaving trails behind the tires from someone that pressed the brakes just a tad too quickly. Little snaps of an air-conditioned system turning off, as coolant dripped on the disturbed ground, impressed the air with sound. The driver’s door opened, and out came a tall, overtly skinny and haggard looking young man. Long curly auburn hair draped his shoulders. His face had a certain birdlike similarity: a long nose and wide eyes gave him a striking look. 

“Hi Damien. Thanks for coming,” said Jonathan in greeting. “Come look at this.” The man’s eyes widened as he noticed the deep indents in the ground in the shape of a foot. 

“What the hell, Jon?” he exclaimed. “What happened?” Damien followed Jonathan inside. They both stopped in front of the destroyed staircase. The newcomer pulled his hair softly, his hands on each side of his head, his mouth agape in disbelief. “What happened to your place!” he asked Jonathan with a whisper.

“Come with me. I’ll explain.”

Damien followed his host through the living room. A smell of vaginal juice assaulted his nostrils just as he noticed the unmade bed of the couch. “You’ve had company?” asked Damien as he pinched his nose.

“You could say that. You haven’t seen upstairs yet. I’m not sure how we can even get up there.” They kept going through the second door of the living room that connected back to the kitchen. Jonathan showed a chair to Damien. His friend sat down, ready to hear the tale. Jonathan explained his encounter on the highway and the events that followed.

Damien’s eyes widened, his pupils sharpening in disbelief at what he was hearing. “OK, let me get this straight: you are to tell me that you’ve met this woman randomly, brought her here, noticed she was growing taller with every orgasm, then proceeded to feed that craving by having sex with her again, only to just let her to roam the countryside once she outgrew your fricking house?”

Jonathan pursed his lips, repressing a smile. He looked down at the table, barely containing a blush.

“Uhm. Yes. I don’t know what came over me.” The kitchen clock struck seven counts. The summer Sun would soon be past the horizon. “Look,” he continued, “you’ll see when you meet her. She’s been gone for a few hours. I can’t believe she’ll be away much longer.” The tall man tapped his feet in a sort of pensive impatience. “Want a drink?” exclaimed Jonathan. Damien nodded. Jonathan opened the refrigerator. “Crap. The power is out for the fridge. Maybe it blew a fuse? I’ll have to do a full check up.”

He grabbed a small cup, poured some raisin juice, knowing the non-alcoholic preference of his friend, and relaxed on his chair after passing him the drink. They were both silent for a full minute. Jonathan wasn’t sure what was going on through the usually boisterous mind of his companion. The coming events would soon force it out of him. “You understand why I asked you, yes? The implications are far-reaching. Before long…” continued Jonathan.

Damien put his palm up, shutting his friend down. He got up from his chair and walked around a bit. Damien pushed the walls with his hands. “Is this a trick? There’s a camera hidden somewhere, isn’t it?” He said while laughing nervously. “I have to say I’m surprised you went along with such decorative immersion,” he continued, pointing to the crushed stairs. “It pays well I hope?”

Jonathan knew that nothing he could say would convince him. Damien stood down the corridor, between the kitchen and the opened front door. He turned around, and shouted back to Jonathan: “Whoever designed this, you have the worst imagination possible!”

It started subtly. The liquid in Damien’s cup would slowly shake. Jonathan noticed a small pen rolling on one of the kitchen’s countertops. Damien looked around. Imperceptibly, the hair on his arms raised in shivers. Suddenly, the ground trembled. Dust rose from the vibrating floor. The kitchen’s ceiling light moved about, a bit of plaster falling down. Damien looked down, then back up at Jonathan. He found his host smiling back at him, his eyebrows raised and his head nodding. He knew that Damien now believed him. The next tremor tested his balance. A deep, bass-like rumble passed through them. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” whispered Damien, as if someone was trying to listen in on them. The walls shook back and forth. Dishes in the cupboard clinked together. The cupboard’s cutlery gave an impression of someone angrily mashing a xylophone. The tremors were now loud enough that they could feel their vibrations passing through their bodies. Jonathan motioned to his friend to follow. Just as they were about to exit, everything stopped.

Complete silence.

They both moved toward the front door. Damien was first. He approached the opened doors of the veranda. The day was late and everything should have been baked with the piercing light typical of the setting Sun. Yet they found themselves surrounded by darkness not dissimilar to the shadows of heavy rain clouds. Jonathan covered his mouth with his hand, hiding an amused expression of surprise.

She had grown.

The station wagon was surrounded by two mammoth sized feet. Damien looked at how the massive heel would probably have enough length to cover most of his car. Her long, skinny toes were probably the size of his torso. 

Craning his neck, he looked up. Way above the roof of the house, the bony features of her shaped knee started to bend. She was coming down. A thunder clap echoed as a gargantuan hand smashed the ground to their right as the massive being stabilized herself to sit down. Her giant, muscular posterior slammed down on the ground just behind the automobile, causing the two men to try and hold their balance as soil dust filled the air for minutes. Damien stared, bewildered, as her feet rose on their heels as the woman found a comfortable position. The massive soles outsized everything, including the host’s tall friend.

She spoke.

“You’ve brought a friend Jon? Who’s this new little man?” Her voice had deepened. The strength of it was comparable to the sound emitted by a bass on a sound stage. 

“Kayla, this is Damien. Damien, Kayla. He’s a good friend of mine.” Damien, fully struck with disbelief, barely found the strength to wave a greeting at her.

“Hello little friend of Jon!” exclaimed the titan.

Damien, still aghast, slowly walked toward her. His arms simply hanging, his will gone. He approached her sole and felt the rough skin, his heart jumping up to his throat as he swallowed his emotions. This was not possible. 

Kayla observed Damien. Her foot dwarfed him completely. Imagery struck her mind: the idea of the two men, struggling under her feet, overpowered by her. She put a hand down, palm upward, in front of Jonathan.

The massive back of the hand smashed the ground in such a way that the poor man fell back. One of her fingers, just barely thinner than his waist, motioned for him to climb on. Jonathan swiftly jumped on her palm. Vertigo took him as she brought him up to her face. For Jonathan, there was no way to stand without having the impression he was gonna fall any instant. It seemed that despite her size, the edges of her hand still seemed too close for comfort.

Sitting down in her palm, her face appeared to him. Beautiful as ever. So many details he had never noticed before. Her skin somehow looked completely refreshed. The pores seemed more detailed. Her large, plump lips approached to the very edge of her open hand. Warm air washed over him from the exhalation of her nostrils. Jonathan got closer, and kissed her bottom lip. He pressed his face against her flesh as deep as he could, his hands grabbing any protruding ridges. Pulling back, he saw her eyes were closed. The two monuments of skin that were her lips opened, her pearly teeth contrasting heavily. The hand shook a bit, and Kayla’s skin pulsed.

A deep guttural moan washed over him, penetrating his chest. He felt the skin stretch under his hand. Kayla opened her eyes, smiled at Jonathan and brought him back down to the ground. As he jumped off, he noticed his friend down on the ground, seemingly lost after having been pushed by the gargantuan sole that had just grown. Her other hand moved away from her private region, still wet from having massaged her pleasure center.

No wonder she grew again.

Jonathan reached Damien and helped him up. They both looked at Kayla. She sported the guilty, mischievous smile of someone purposely creating trouble, and knowing there could be no consequence for it. Damien looked back at Jonathan, a sudden serious look of concern draped his features: “You were right to call me.”

The tall man picked a phone out of his pocket. He texted someone with a barely contained panic. Three letters appeared for the recipient: B. A. I. The Bureau of Anomalous Investigations.

Their attention was rapidly brought back to the towering monument in front of them as she moved. Kayla opened her legs, putting the full details of her grown vagina to them.

“Who’s first?” she thundered.

* * * * *