Chapter 1

You’ve ever seen an ant? Not those big, bad, red – or black- ants, who are around a centimeter in length. No. The small ones, the ones in gardens in Europe and that, even for kids, are really small. Those who looks to be no more than four to, perhaps, five millimeters long. Ever seen those? Well, that’s great, because while I’m dangling upside down, help precariously hundreds of meters above the ground, I just realize that I’m smaller than them.

* * *

But I’m getting ahead of myself here, as usual. Perhaps presentations are in order? I think they are, but bear with me, everything here is kind of new to me. The name’s Erwan. Air Swan, but the “S” is silent, if you please. Not Ear Whine. Not at all. As my name would have indicated, two or three hundred years ago, I’m from Brittany. Today, we just call it, Westernmost Gigantopia, because of what happened, the Great Change, the Scaling Disaster. It has many names, really, but I won’t go too much into too much details about it. Everybody know about it, after all.

What you may not know, if you live outside of Gigantopia (which is basically ancient Europe, from the Atlantic to the Dniepr, Artic Pole to the Mediterranean Sea, by the way) is that Westernmost Gigantopia – like most of France and Spain, really (us natives call it West G – it’s shorter and cooler, right?) is really scarcely populated. Just like the South. It’s basically the beach stations for the big ones to come in. people like me, the so-called Normals, are basically here to maintain the roads and accommodations for our taller brethren. And I can tell you that it’s atrociously boring.

Most of the time, you’ll get mocked and ridiculed by Smalls. I think I hate them the most, because of their stupid name. Why would you call yourself Small, when you’re around twenty meters high, seriously!? And those ass, well, they know that apart from us, normies, they are at the bottom of the food chain, so they take their frustrations on us. At least, that’s what my ‘pa told me when I complained about a kid four time my size pissing all over the playground and sniping us while giggling. That’s really traumatizing, believe me!

Anyway, I got bored of this life, and when I turned eighteen, I wished goodbye to my parents and my siblings and moved to what had been Eastern Germany and Western Poland and was now what we call True Gigantopia, the bustling metropolis of millions of peoples, large enough that it covers several former states. That was quite the sight, to get into the shining bullet trains, propelled thanks to solar and wind energy, wishing goodbye to the moody sky of West G to reach the heartland, I can tell you.

It’s when I saw my very first Gigantic. I can’t tell you how far he was, but my God, he was huge! People tell you that they are five hundred meters tall, but knowing it and seeing it is completely different. I don’t know why they would want to mingle with us, instead of trampling us all underfoot. But they didn’t, they were the driving force behind Gigantopia, and I guess that in the midst of a size-altering worldwide pandemic, the wishes of the thousands of or so of their kind too precedence.

Anyway! He was stunning. Almost naked – I realized long after that they don’t like clothes very much and they don’t need them, their bodies are basically impossible to harm in any way, shape or form of attack, even the worst weather can’t affect them- his shoulder length blond hair contrasting with his tanned skin, his privates barely covered by a sort of ancient-Greek looking skirt. And my God, that body! Sexy as fuck, and I’m not gay! And yet, I swear I wanted him really bad, at that moment. Then the bullet train left him far away and I refocused on my maps.

When I reached the outskirt of the town itself is when I saw all those size-altered categories. Smalls with Normals on their shoulders talking with Giants who were a little over twice as tall as the latter, all held in the arms of a Titaness, who was around two hundred meters tall. It made me feel terribly minuscule, more than I had ever felt, and I suddenly regretted having left my backwater village.

“Oh, I know that face” said an old wise voice, belonging to a man who, in another time, could have been a King of Soul or Jazz, his black face covered by wrinkles of joy, his still dense hair more silver than black, and his teeth glimmering as he smiled at me. “You’re just out of your hometown and you’re wondering if you made the right choice coming here!”

“Yeah” I admitted, a little embarrassed that a stranger could read me so easily. “I knew that Smalls were… not at all what they name say, but the others… I had never seen them before… And they are so… so...”

“So much more than anything you ever expected or saw?” he said, finishing my sentence for me. “Yeah, they are. But, truth been told, to let it make you too nervous. To thrive here, all you need is to make new friends. And if you don’t know any...”

“That’s the problem, I’m totally new!” I blurted, interrupting him, but he didn’t seem to care, even as the train started to slow down.

“It won’t be a problem, really” he said, laughing. “As I was saying, once you’ll have settled in your apartment, or house, or wherever you’ll live, once you’ll have let the first few days come and go, try Well Meet. That’s an app for peoples to discover each other’s. Peoples of all size, may I add.”

“And it truly works? I mean, I wouldn’t want to pay too much for...”

“It’s free!” he chuckled, interrupting me this me. “Believe me, it’ll do you wonders!”

As the train stopped, I thanked him, profusely, and got up, fighting with my luggage’s. That old man, whose name I didn’t knew and never learnt, had given me the pep talk I needed to overcome my sudden worried. I had never been afraid of the Smalls, and here, they weren’t at the top, not at all. All I needed was to blend well into the simple job I had landed, a low-level desk job, really, nothing too glorious, and I would be fine.

Of course, it wasn’t to be.

* * *

“Ear Whine?” asked Samantha, her high-pitched voice grating on my nerves as she, for the twentieth time in less than an hour, mispronounced my name (and now you know why I told you how to spell it!). “Can you come here, please, I need your help!”

I cursed silently. You see, ever since I started working here, two weeks ago, my life has turned into a never ending ordeal. You would have thought that, being at a desk all day, life would be easy, with just some boring stories shared between Normals coworkers near the coffee machine. I expected it, to be honest, it would have helped me ease into my new life. But there was a rather small problem in all of it. Samantha Van Heyes, my manager/boss/N+1. Call her whatever you want. Me? It’s Pervert in charge, but never out loud.

“Yes Samantha?” I asked, as I neared her own desk; I was using her surname only because she had ordered me to do so, when I had stuttered “Miss Van Heyes” the first time around.

“I think there is a little wardrobe malfunction, and I was wondering if you could help me, Ear Whine...” she said, smiling seductively at me.

I gulped. Hard. You see, Samantha is really gorgeous. Icy blue eyes, framed by black-trimmed glasses, which were mostly here for decorum, long wavy blond hair, really pale, falling well below her shoulders, and curves which, while modest, were quite pleasant to the eyes. And she was quite stylish, always wearing the latest fashion. But there were two, no, three little problems about what she was doing – that is, flirting outrageously with me.

For starter, she was my boss, which made the whole thing more than a little awkward and into sexual harassment territory. Then, she was in her thirties – I knew from very credible sources that she was closer to forty than thirty, actually, but I would have never guessed it by looking at her. And finally, the biggest hurdles of them all… she was a Small. A very big Small, at over twenty-five meters tall. Unlucky me, she seemed to have a terrible crush on me, and none of my coworkers had the courage to tell her to stop what she was doing. Truth been told, I hadn’t, either.

“I’m not sure that I’ll be of much help, Samantha” I tried, backing away a little, before freezing where I stood when she pointed her index finger at me.

“Nonsense, Ear Whine! You’ll be of great help, as always! I just know it! Now, do you want to get on my desk by yourself, or do you need a lift?”

“I’ll get up, don’t worry!” he shouted, a fake smile plastered on my face, as I rushed toward the stairs carved into the side of her desk, as she pouted – I really didn’t want her to change her mind; she had lifted him once, and I had almost ended naked and fondled everywhere in seconds, or at least it was how it had felt to me. “So, what’s the problem?” I asked, huffing abundantly.

“Oh, you poor thing...” she cooed, leaning forward and offering me a great view of her cleavage.

Truth been told, there wasn’t much. If she had been a Normal, she would have been a solid medium-sized B-cup girl. Of course, at her size, even a rather small amount of boob-flesh turned out to be quite a lot, at least for me, and hers were the largest breasts I had ever seen up close. And she smelt damn good, using some sort of perfume probably, which made me a little light-headed, but I did my best to steel my resolve.

“Samantha? What was the problem?” I asked, doing my best to get my breathing under control.

“Well...” she started, looking at me mischievously, putting a stand of her hair behind her ear, which was really arousing me, I realized with shame.

She was older than me, my boss and she was sexually harassing me every hour of every day during the last two weeks, and I still felt attracted by her stunning body. I was getting more than a little afraid by all of this. And the way she looked at me… it was a little different from what she usually did it. She didn’t seemed amused so much as hungry. With a shudder, I wondered if I shouldn’t have had pretended to be too busy to help, this time…

“There seem to have been a slight misunderstanding, Ear Whine...” she continued, and I suddenly wondered if the purr of cats sounded as threatening to the ears of a mouse as Samantha’s did to mine. “I wasn’t talking about my clothes...”

I think I bleached. Samantha, like all taller people, wore less clothes than Normals. Her attire would have been considered skimpy for us, consisting largely of a white band of fabric covering her breasts, but leaving her hard nipples quite easy to spot, especially when they were as erect as they were now, a black skirt which barely reach her mid-tights and of course high heels. And basically nothing more. Perhaps a jacket, when it was raining, some jewelry which probably were more expansive than anything a Normal could ever afford, and that was it.

“I… I don’t get it, Samantha” I stammered – while I did get it, perfectly, but didn’t feel able to oppose her wishes, if she acted on them.

“Such a teasing little morsel you are” she chuckled, extending a hand and capturing me and tugging gently at my hoodie. “It won’t do that you wear that all day long, Ear Whine!”

What could I answer to that? Seriously, I was clutched by a woman who was over fourteenth time my size. Fourteenth, and she’s a Small! What would you do, in my place? Stand your ground, shoot at her, slap her fingers and prove that at one meter, seventy-seven centimeters, you are no less than a man? Or, as I did, laugh weakly and falsely and let her tear out your hoodie, turning it into a pathetic heap of fabric, while you knew you’d get a cold here or on the way home? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

‘Cause it must be said, that it’s far too cold in this office. Because of her. Smalls aren’t as resilient as Gigantics, by a wide margin. In fact, it’s said they get ho and bothered a lot more than us normies. So Samantha had decreed that we wouldn’t warm the office for the time being. It was just early Fall, sure, but it was still getting a little cold, for the like of us. I would have told her so, I swear, but the way she looked at me, I felt that if I did, her actions would escalate even more. Still, I had to react. I was expected to, right.

“I… I hadn’t realized that the clothing policy had changed, Samantha” I said, painting a weak smile on my face and doing my best to not let my voice crack too much. “I… I’ll keep that in mind tomorrow morning and drop my vest as soon as I get here.”

“But then you’ll get all cold and ill...” she said, a large grin on her face. “I can’t have that, can’t I?”

And that how my life in Gigantopia truly started. When she pushed me toward her bust line and pressed me against it, against my wishes. That’s the exact moment I stopped being an office drone, and I became a kind of MILF toy. When Samantha Van Heyes, with her insufferable voice and inability to pronounce my name correctly tore my clothes from me, and took me and my virginity, right on her desk, as I rasped and cried and pleaded, which only made her giggle and kiss me more.

“Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll drop you by your home, I’ll just need to get your stuff in your cubicle” she finally said, after however how long she abused me, looking as fresh and dainty as if we had just been chatting sympathetically. “And I’ll recommend you to my friends, they’ll ADORE you!”

* * *

It went for five years. Not with Samantha, of course. She grew bored of me after a month, and announced that I could either stay at her office, where she would make a living hell out of my life, or I could move to one of her friend’s business. It wasn’t a desk job, but instead a grocery shop, where a women in her late thirties, slightly overweight and around eighteen meters tall, allowed me to work two third of the time, and groped and fucked me the rest, leaving me a huffing and heaving mess in the backroom, as she herself cleared her pale ginger flesh from any fluid I could have deposited on it.

And on and on it went. The first two years, I was really just a toy. Then the next three, I realized that I could me more active. I started teasing those older women and far taller women who wanted to use me. And in so doing, I started to climb in the social hierarchy of Gigantopia. Oh, as a Normal I would never have become much, but it was more than those who still ascribed to the old ethic of working hard to achieve. That’s not what the Growns wanted. They want to have fun, and the smaller you are, the eager you’re supposed to be to give them fun. But I wanted something else.

But, Erwan, you’ll say to me. All that is all well and good, but I don’t see how it explains where you ended, comparing yourselves with the smallest possible ants, hundreds of meters in the air, hanging for dear life! You’d be right. Almost, because I’m certainly not hanging – at least I’m not the one doing the effort here! Still, I guess it’s time to explain what I did, once five years had come and gone for me at the heart of Gigantopia.

“Hello, how can I help you?” I asked to the person who was calling the Terrasse en Coeur, the restaurant I had recently found myself working for.

“Hello” replied a feminine voice in the phone, “I would have liked to make a reservation. A table for two, at 20h, if possible.”

“Hum, let me see...” I replied, looking at our planning. “There is plenty of places yes! Just, may I know your size? The access to the restaurant is strictly for Normals only.”

“Oh...” I heard and I knew she wouldn’t come. “My friend’s a Small and I’m… hum, I’m a Giantess. Is there really no way we could come? We’ve heard such rave reviews about your menu!”

Now, that’s when things get tricky – well, trickier- in Gigantopia. You see, it’s forbidden to discriminate based on size. That’s why places which in truth caters to Giants and taller classes of citizen only admit Small and Normies – I don’t know why, but we are always lumped together. I guess that for fifty meters and plus, we’re all the same little things? Anyway, I’m digressing, as always! As I was saying, it’s forbidden to forbid those two to come to our restaurants, but we have a terrace which is barely large enough for a Giant’s foot! Now way she could fit here with her friend!

But I had to find a solution, you know? She could very well sue us otherwise, or even simply come and make a scene here. Imagine it. Thirty or so Normals eating together, happily and safe, only to have a fifty meters tall woman barging in and screaming bloody abuse. Believe me when I say that it’s terrifying. Thankfully, my boss and I had devised a way to circumvent the whole thing. I just hoped I wouldn’t be the one chosen to do the job. I had had a long day already, and I wanted to go back home. Still, I put my tiredness away to reply to the would-be customer.

“Well, we really don’t have the accommodations in-situ, but… we have a deal with the neighborhood board, and we can use the local plaza for clients such as yourselves. It’s really close by, a ten minutes’ walk for Normals, so you should be fine? Plus, we can assure you that whatever you’ll take in our menu will be well-cooked and all!”

“Oh… yeah, that would be perfect, I guess… It’s really close? I’ll get to see you, and my friends too? I’ve seen the photos and your establishment looks so beautiful...”

“Of course! The insides will be a little hard to see, but I’m sure you’ll be able to!” I said, praying that she wouldn’t come in to get a look before my shift was over, but the bigger they were, the quicker they ate, so I wasn’t too hopeful.

“Wonderful! So, see you this evening, I guess!”

* * *

God. My bed felt awesome. But what was even better was chatting with Celia. I “met” her online, on that Well Meet match-up site or whatever that the old man in the train had told me about, all those years ago. Honestly, that thing was great. I had used it to make friends and “friends” over the years. The former, all Normals, shared long week-ends were we drank like crazy and laughed our asses out watching old movies, from a time when everyone was the same size, more or less.

The latter where the women, almost always older than myself, whom I ended being with, the last three years. Almost always taller than me, also, even if I had had one or two match-ups with Normals MILF which had been great. Hearing them moan because they found my dick huge was, I can assure you, quite a boost to my ego. But I never got attached. I was really careful to avoid that. In Gigantopia, sex and friendships, or even love, didn’t go hand in hand, at least in my eyes. Until I met Celia online.

Her pictures were stunning. She was black, but dyed her hair a deep shade of blond, and straightened it. She had a killer body, with large double-D breasts, a wide derrière which was the result of a lot of squats, she had told me, and a large brown eyes in which I love to lose myself. She often stroke great poses, for me, since the pictures were always new. And she was so damn funny! We understood each other, and we had both made the other laugh out loud so many times. We had even made some face-cam, and her voice sounded like music to my ears.

Also, she was a mother of three. You would think it would off-putting to me, and I believed so to, at first, but it turned out that it aroused me. I imagined myself going on in her, making her moan and mew under me, as I would pound her hungry cunt, filling it with my rod and then my cum. I imagined her, pregnant with my baby, and getting still fucked, by me, like an horned dog, while her three daughters slept soundly, mere meters away.

Hey! Don’t judge okay. She’s really sexy, and I want to be with her. I think I’m in love, damn it. But I have my kinks, like everyone, and after having been abused, molested and generally played by various older and more powerful women, the idea of banging with a mother of three who is just two years older than me, whenever, wherever, was intoxicating. I grew out of it, somewhat, but it remains really exciting for me. I’ve wanted kids, confusedly, for a long time, but recently, it just dawned on me, you know?

“Erwan?” asked a voice, coming from my computer and lifting my spirits.

“I’m here!” I shouted, as loud as possible, rushing, half naked, toward my deckchair, so I could speak with Celia, who sounded a little concerned, if her tone wasn’t too distorted by the speakers.

“How are you doing?” she asked me, as soon as I sat and activated the webcam, smiling at me, which made my stomach get full of very angry butterflies.

“I’m fine, thanks! Long day at work, but overall great. And you?”

“Well, same old, same old. Dropped the girls to school and went on with my life. Busy day too, but overall, great! I’ve made some serious progress, convincing peoples to adhere to my proposition!”

I nodded and smiled, but I didn’t have much of an idea about what she was speaking about. Sure, we had discussed about her will to push for real equality between everyone, so more protection for the smaller members of society, but I didn’t see how she could achieve that. She was a Normal, same as me, and our voice wasn’t heard. Sure, since the last forty years, all mayors of Gigantopia had been normal, but everyone knew that they were under the thrall of some Titan or another – since Gigantic seemed utterly uninterested in all this.

I had learnt over the years that, as long as we weren’t killing each other and were living peacefully, those, well, gigantic beings got on with their lives. I made some math, you know, and I realized that it was perfectly natural for them to do so, considering that they are, almost exactly, two hundreds eighty two point five times my size. 282,5 ! Man, I can tell you that my head hurt when I realized it. Basically, I’m six millimeters tall compared to them. To give some perspectives, a 192 pages note book is basically around one centimeter. I’m smaller than that, standing.

Honestly, us Normals are just gnats to us, and it’s a great thing that the taller they are, the less they need to eat normal food, because otherwise, I think we would have all ended in the gullet of the Gigantics. It’s also a  good thing that, when they die - same age as us, if you can believe it- the bodies of those affected by whatever made them so big turn into nutrients for the ground really fast, without being true rotting. I have no idea how it works, but it’s really great. Imagine the stench of a world covered by hundreds of five hundreds meter long carcasses rotting away! Eww!

Anyway! Celia was clearly very politically motivated. She had told me long ago (almost a year ago, by now) that she really wished to be living with peoples of all size, together. To form families with peoples both far smaller and far taller than herself -which I had found to be a pipe dream, but never told us, because she got so worked up by this that I hadn’t had the heart. Plus, when she got really excited about it. Her eyes glinted even more, her smile widened and even her boobs seemed to grow a little, to showcase her passion.

“Earth to Erwan? Are you with me?” she suddenly asked, snapping me out of my trance.

“Uh, sorry, was drifting a bit! Not enough sleep last night, plus the workday, I think!” I said, trying to play it cool – I definitively didn’t want her to think I was a creep -even if I still hadn’t worked up the courage to ask her out on a date.

“You need to sleep more then!” she said, looking concerned. “I don’t want you to get ill or anything! Not seeing you for days would be too hard for me...”

My heart skipped a beat here. I know a hint when I hear one. Sure, I haven’t been doing the prettiest things since I came to the real urban center of Gigantopia, but I was still a young and somewhat idealistic young man. I wanted to believe that tomorrow could be better. It turns out, it can, but it also has a way of surprising you which leave you gasping for breath and terrified half day. But, again, I’m getting ahead of myself. We’re not there quite yet. Not by a long shot, at least. But we’re getting there, don’t worry!

“Oh, so… you’d want to eat with me, someday soon?” I asked, not too smoothly, I know. “After all, we’re getting closer to winter now, so the risks of me getting a cold like last year are becoming higher and higher!”.

Yeah, it wasn’t very much better but, what can I say? All my ability to play older and taller women disappeared as soon as I talked with Celia. I guess it’s because I really want to be with her, instead of just using the abusing instincts of Smalls to at least get played with by women I find attractive? In those conditions, I can be a lot more adept, but with my webcam crush, it was all but impossible. Please, say yes! I silently prayed, back then.

“Are you finally asking me out!?” she asked me, her largest grin ever on her face, fidgeting a little before her webcam, which allowed her pleasingly large bosom to move quite tantalizingly. “It took you long enough! I was starting to be afraid, you know?”

“Well, it’s not my fault! I mean, it’s not yours either, it’s just that… uh… you’re super beautiful and… And I’m not and… I’m making a fool of myself, right?” You don’t need to answer it, world, I know I did, she knew I did but didn’t make a fuss about it. Why don’t you, uh?

“Not at all” she chuckled. “But let’s put a date on our date” she added, her smile infecting me. “Let’s see… tomorrows really not possible… Thursday will be kind of hard for you?”

“Yeah, my boss want at least a two days’ notice. It could work but...” And seriously, if he didn’t gave me that day off, I would take it anyway! Finally meeting with Celia was more important! Yeah, I’m a rebel like that!

“No, no, don’t worry! Friday will be perfectly fine! Do you think you’d be okay with going to the Sungazer? It would be easier for me, but if it’s too far away, I’ll try to find something a little closer to you?” she proposed, but the way she had said that name, I knew I just had to go there to meet her.

“It’ll be perfect, don’t worry!” I shouted, excited, without even looking where it was.

“Great! I’ll make the reservation! Noon by Friday sound good for you?”

“Perfect! I can’t wait to be there!” And it was absolutely the truth, just so you know!

* * *

“Your table is on the southern terrace, sir” said the groom, or waiter, or whatever the name was for such a fancy restaurants – I knew it was fancy just because of the way he was looking at me as if I was a  particularly nasty example of the riffraff; vulgar commoner didn’t come here, normally.

Truth been told, I almost chocked when I sought out the website of Sungazer. That shit was one of the fanciest places in all of Gigantopia! Like, the menu was far more expensive that a whole month of my salary. I would have panicked but Celia had assuaged my concerns with a tweet, insuring that she would pay the expenses, she had the funds. It hardly made me feel better, but at least it made the prospect of the three hour bullet train to reach it bearable.

Because, yes, that shit was far away from me! I lived in the north-western parts of the center, and this one was along the cost of the Adriatic. Thankfully, like all public commodities in the “country”, the train was high-tech, comfortable and entirely free. Which meant that once I knew how long it would take to go there, I had had all the time to prepare myself. I did my best to look great without trying to copy the wealthy Normal’s style. Still I could help but wonder why Celia had chosen such a high profile restaurant.

I’m pretty sure you’re guessing why she did, at that point, but I swear that, back then, I had no idea, absolutely none! All I could do was count the knots in my guts and do my best to not faint due to stress. It’s quite funny, in retrospect. I was there, perspiring more than a little – okay, sweating real well, I’ll be honest- under the fierce wind of a terrace at the top of a building which was three hundred meters tall, looking down on the few Titans who wandered around, for the first time in my life – and it was exhilarating.

I guess that it was probably how gnats and other flying insects saw me. Enormous but distant, below them. I’ll confess that it was really a great feeling. Looking down on those behemoths, enjoying the cleavage of two Northern looking Titaness who were even more scantily clad than Samantha had been, their large pale orbs barely contained by their bikini tops, large enough that Normals could have lived there -if they hadn’t ended crushed into a bloody paste by the size of their opulent breasts, of course.

I shivered a little. Technology had advanced madly since the Rise of the Gigantics and other, you know? It had something to do with the density of their brain tissue or something like that. Basically, the dumber of them was ten thousand times as smart as the greatest genius among Normals. Or so goes the saying. I can’t tell if it’s true, even today. I’m not really a science kind of guy, and honestly, it really quickly end sounding like gibberish to me, so I smile and nod and that’s it.

Still, even they couldn’t really create a field, or protection, or shield call it however you like, who could totally ward off from the powerful winds which blows high above the ground. The dampeners of the Sungazer reduced them to a gentle breeze, but it was still enough to make me feel a little cold. Celia had reserved the table furthest from the kitchen, at the very tip of the terrace. I had been more than a little surprised, when I was brought to my chair, which was looking at the tower itself.

Of course, the glass floor offered an incredible view of the world below, but it was also so frightening that after glancing down, I avoided it as best as I could. Except for the aforementioned Titaness walking below us. Boobs like that have a certain pull, you know? Even on Normals, I mean. And when they are big enough to be called house-sized – average house, not some small shack, got it!- well… Yeah, my eyes were glued on them, like most of the few Normies up here.

“Sir? May I take your order?” asked the waiter/groom/whatever, his disdain thinly veiled at best.

“I’m not alone!” I blurted. “I think it would be extremely rude to order before she’s here, you know?”  I added, even going as far as giggling a little, to try and make him more amenable.

“I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem sir...” he said, looking slightly surprised. It wasn’t much, but I would take it. But just as I was quite certain that I had managed to convince him that I wouldn’t leave grease stains on the chairs, I saw a sly smile form on his face. “But we can always wait, I’m sure your date will be here shortly.”

And with that, gone he went leaving my scratching my head. What did he meant by that. I went to grab the glass of water I had poured myself - because it’s not rude to drink just water while waiting for your date, right? I wasn’t doing anything wrong, right? - but I stopped and looked at it with bulging eyes. The water was moving. Oh, not by much, but it was kind of like in that old movie, Jurassic Park, where some stupid scientists recreate dinosaurs and get eaten.

That’s a great movie, don’t get me wrong, one of my all-time favorite antediluvian ones, but still! What kind of moron would create a park choke full of creatures who can trample or eat them whenever they want, on a tropical island, with tornadoes and cyclones and the like? I live in a world of giants, and I can tell you that if any scientist was responsible for the gigantification of many peoples, he didn’t boasted about it. Or if he did, he was probably stoned to death rather quickly and forgotten.

In any case, I was here, looking at the water in my glass getting ever wilder, when I felt the first tremor. It was still a little faint, but it was growing more powerful by the second. I knew what it meant, I had lived through it once already, in those five years in Gigantopia proper. There was a Gigantic closing on us, and he or she was running. When they walked, they were already either breath-taking from afar or mortally frightening from up close, but when they run… Oh God, I was once four hundred meters away from one of them doing that and I believed I would die!

They weight… Honestly, I don’t know how much they weight. Some says that wherever they walk, diamonds and other gems appears, because they are so heavy that the carbon in the ground is transformed under them. Other pretends that if they so wished, they could produce seismic activity powerful enough to wake all the volcanos of the world and destroy the remnants of civilizations which still coexist with them. I honestly don’t know if either is true, but it could be. Gigantics are divine, in a way, after all.

The tremors grew and grew and if I had been anywhere else, I would have run away. But I was waiting for Celia - yeah, I know, I’m not the brightest bulb out there! - and I saw all those posh patrons who were still eating as if nothing out of the extraordinary was happening so I tried and did the same. I sat and did my best to not look at the Gigantic who would pass near us, perhaps as close as a kilometer or so, I suspected.

That’s why I was completely taken aback when the sun went away. I gasped when, looking up, and up, and up, I saw hundreds of meters of dark brown skin, leading up, way over our head, to two enormous boulders, large enough to be each a small train station or a large hangar, begrudgingly allowing themselves to be covered by a white tank top and a black lacey bra, from the very little I could see. I felt my mouth dropping on the floor. I had never been so close to a Gigantic woman and the sight was breathtaking.

Then she took a step back and leant forward and I think I stopped breathing for quite some time. She was ginormous, of course, but it was her face which made me almost faint here and there. Because, and I’m sure you’ve known it far longer than me, it wasn’t just any Gigantic who was standing here. Her eyes where even more beautiful than on the webcam, her hair more luxurious and her body all the more curvaceous, but I would have recognized that smile everywhere.

It was Celia.

And as she grinned at me and waved the fingers of her right hand at me excitedly, I realized two things. Firstly that I was harder than ever and ready to cream my pants anytime.

Secondly that my date was the tallest MILF.