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“I’ll be by at 9 tomorrow to pick stuff up.”  It was the only thing Samantha had texted me since moving out, and one of the few things she had said to me since I left her at the altar.  I understood that she was hurt by what I did, and minimizing contact with me was part of her moving on.  Still, when she did get over it, I hoped we could be friends.  We got along great together, I just did not see myself spending the rest of my life with her when I looked into her eyes that evening.

 

In case she tried anything, my new girlfriend, Lydia, was here for support.  Lydia was not quite a rebound: we had met a couple weeks before my wedding and instantly hit it off, with a strong spiritual connection and more physical chemistry than I ever remembered having with Samantha.  Every time we spoke, I wondered what if we had met a couple years earlier and I was not engaged.  It took until Samantha was walking down the altar to realize that I could find out.

 

If someone asked me to describe the perfect woman, I would have described Lydia even without knowing her.  She was around my height, with long, straight red hair and bright green eyes.  Light freckles were spattered around her narrow face, with a cluster on her thin nose and around her slim lips.  Her lean muscles showed that she watched what she ate and exercised regularly, and she always dressed cute even if we were just staying in.  Not only that, but we shared many of the same hobbies, and we could talk about our common interests for hours without needing to jump to something deeper.

 

A series of loud knocks pounded on the door, and Lydia and I moved to the other side of the room.  “It’s me,” Samantha called from the hallway.  She was a few minutes early, as expected.  Samantha was punctual to a fault, and hated making people wait as much as she hated waiting.  We had been sitting here for almost an hour watching the door, trying to guess what 9 meant to her this time.

 

Looking from Lydia to Samantha when she entered, it was difficult to imagine how I had ever found her attractive.  She was so tall her head almost hit the doorframe, and so muscled it looked like she was stuffed full of bricks.  Her hair was a common light brown and barely reached her shoulders, while her blue eyes seemed to pierce through me.  A nose that was just a little too wide drew attention from her thick lips, and her dimpled chin seemed odd with how narrow it was.  It looked like she was on the way to the gym with tight black leggings that showed off her bulging quads and a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, though she usually did not wear black Vans to what she called the “Temple of Gains.”

 

“Good, you’re both here,” she said.  Her voice had always irked me, it was too throaty and deep.  Lydia coming along when she did had saved my life.  Samantha strode confidently toward us, her Vans slapping the floor hard enough to make the apartment’s fixtures shake.

 

“Just get what you came for and get out,” I said, not budging an inch.  I was not going to let her intimidate me in front of Lydia.

 

“No need to worry about that,” Samantha said, laughing.  “I’m not sure you’ll like giving it to me, though.”  All she had left behind was in two boxes by the door; I was more than ready to move on from this unpleasant ordeal.

 

I did not think it was possible, but Samantha seemed even taller than the last time I saw her.  The longer I looked at her the taller she got, and it was not just because she was coming closer.  When I was waist high to her I knew something was up, so I glanced at Lydia to ground myself.  We were still the same height, but she was looking around in panic.  Maybe she was seeing the same thing I was, or actually seeing my ex-fiance in person freaked her out.

 

Turning back to Samantha, I no longer came up to her knees while she stood just as straight as ever.  The only conclusion was that, somehow, she was shrinking us.  We dwindled to her ankles and below, finally stopping when I was shorter than the white rubber along the bottom of her shoes.  She smiled and kept coming, with her next step on track to trample us.

 

“Run!” I shouted when her heel touched down.  The porous sole of her shoe loomed overhead while I ran to the side, slowly closing in.  When it almost touched my head I dove, barely getting clear of her shoe before it hit the ground.  I slid over the lacquered wood until I hit the small crevice between planks, and Samantha let out booming peals of laughter.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, lifting her foot again.  I thought her voice was bad before, but it was nothing compared to the horrific rumble she made now.  “You can’t run away from me this time.”  Her foot set down in front of me with a crash, making the whole floor shake.  Moments later a tremor hit me from further away, and after a loud scrape Lydia let out an ear-piercing shriek.  She tumbled across the wood and slammed into Samantha’s instep beside me, then fell to the floor with a groan.

 

Samantha brought her feet together, trapping us between her shoes.  “Well isn’t this adorable?” she said, leaning forward so she could peer down at us.  “This must be so humiliating for you two!”  That was a good summary of how it felt to be the size of a bug in my ex’s shadow.  “Not as humiliating as being left at the altar in front of all your friends and family, of course.”  She chuckled and stood straight again, but her blue eyes never left us.

 

She lifted her right foot and moved it over us, letting it hover above our heads.  “Getting squished like this might be about equal, though.”  Her shoe began descending toward us, and there was nowhere to run.

 

“Sam, please!” I shouted, hoping she could hear me.  “Don’t kill me!  If we talk this over, I’m sure we can work something out!” 

 

Her foot stopped, and she stroked the dimple in her chin while thinking.  She set her foot down in front of us, and I sighed in relief while my insides shook from the impact.  “You know what?” she began.  “Sure, we can talk.  I’d love to hear what you had to say.”  Something about her smirk told me she was being disingenuous, but for now I was glad to not be a smudge on her shoe’s sole.

 

Samantha squatted and regarded us curiously, her face framed between her thighs.  She reached a hand down and pinched me between her thumb and forefinger, then plucked me off the ground.  As she stood I was treated to the most intense elevator ride of my life.  I moved so quickly during the ascent it felt like my stomach remained on the floor and I felt extremely lightheaded.  When she reached her full height, she deposited me in her waiting, upturned palm and opened her fingers.

 

I had often joked that she had me in the palm of her hand, but I never expected it to be literal.  Samantha’s gargantuan face terrified me, and the calm, emotionless expression with which she considered me made it worse.  Her mouth was large enough that I could easily fit inside – she might even be able to swallow me whole – and her too-big nose dwarfed me.  Looking back at her was difficult, since I had to choose which iris half my size to focus on.

 

Samantha’s gaze shifted from me to the floor, and her lips pulled tight in a grin.  She waved downward with her free hand, and a small, shrill scream reached me.  A light crunch followed, and Samantha smiled wider before turning back to me.  “We can talk now that she’s gone,” she boomed, as though she had not just committed murder.

 

“You… you killed her!” I cried out in shock.  Samantha had just smashed Lydia under her shoe, and when I mentioned it she looked at me like I was speaking in tongues.

 

“I guess I did, didn’t I?” she responded.  “Well, she played a part in ruining my life, so I think it’s fair I ended hers.”  She leaned in until her face loomed over me, blocking out the overhead light.  Her lips touched me when she asked, “And what do you think I’ll do to you?”

 

“Sam, just, please!” I stammered.  I tried to scramble away from her, but her face floated after me.  “Just listen, there’s no reason to eat me, we can talk this over and come to an agreement I’m sure, no matter what your problem is!”

 

“The time for talking was before you made a fool out of me in front of everyone I know,” she hissed, spraying saliva over me.  “But I’m not going to eat you.  The thought of you inside me again makes me sick.”  Samantha started walking, and I rolled around her open palm with her gait.  Every few steps she moved her fingers or shifted her palm to move me back toward the center, demonstrating complete control over my puny body.

 

Samantha stopped and knelt, and it felt like my heart leapt to my throat during the fall.  She turned her hand sideways, dumping me onto a broad leather plain that my insignificant weight barely dimpled.  Her forearms rested against the front while she leaned forward, demonstrating how she towered over me.  From a quick glance around, I learned she had dropped me in my favorite chair.

 

A strong blow struck me, staggering me sideways.  “Hey!”  Samantha’s spittle landed around me.  “Do you want to focus on your chair or the gigantic woman right in front of you?”  She jabbed me with her other finger, sending me stumbling backwards.

 

“This is just a lot to take in right now,” I said.  “Of all the things I expected to happen, this isn’t even on the list.”

 

“Know what else was a lot to take in?”  Samantha poked me with her left and right index fingers in rapid succession, bouncing me between them until a swift strike knocked me on my back.  “Realizing I’d have to redo my entire life plan because my shitbird fiancé left me for someone they met two weeks earlier.  That was a whole fucking lot to process.”  She used a fingertip to drag me around before driving me into the cushion by pummeling me repeatedly with it.

 

I raised my hands to shield against her fingers, but she was so much bigger than me they simply got slapped back against my chest.  When she finally relented, I shouted, “If you’re trying to get me to take you back, you can forget it!  You just murdered the love of my life, we are never getting back together!”

 

Samantha laughed, a horrific, booming rumble that blew hot air over me.  “The ‘love of your life’ seems to be whoever spoke to you last, I’m sure you’d get over it eventually.”  She bashed me with her finger hard enough to send me rolling into the middle of the chair and continued, “I wouldn’t take you back if you begged, I know we’re over.  I’m glad to date shorter men, I know I’m gigantic, but you’re pushing it at less than an inch tall.”

 

“Okay, you don’t want to get back together any more than I do.  But you don’t have to kill me either, you’ve made your point!”

 

She smirked.  “I’m curious now.  What sort of life do you think you’d have at this size?  Because I’m not growing you by even a fraction of an inch.”

 

“Um.”  I had to admit, she had taken me off-guard with that question.  “You could keep me in your room and taunt me whenever you wanted?”  It was the only thing I could think of that she might agree to.

 

“Thanks for the suggestion, but I’d rather have you out of my life as soon as I can.”  Samantha stood, and I watched in awe and horror as she towered over me more and more.  I still had to look up at her knees while standing in a chair, and I could barely see her eyes past her chest.  “I think that’ll be just after I put these leggings in the wash.”

 

Begging had gotten me nowhere, and she was unwilling to negotiate.  She had proven escape was impossible, and if I got free she would track me down before I got far.  Samantha had not just me, but my very life, in the palm of her hand.

 

She turned around and wiggled her hips, making her butt shake back and forth.  “I bet you’ll appreciate my ass now,” she teased, giving it a hard slap.  Ripples ran through her butt cheeks and she laughed cruelly.  It was bulbous and round, well-toned, and pulled into a heart shape by her leggings.  Normally it was the size of my head, and now it was gigantic.

 

Samantha wiggled her butt back and forth while it descended, and it quickly blocked out everything else.  Watching her tremendous ass come toward me, growing larger by the second, made me panic, and I started looking for somewhere to run.  There was no escape from her titanic derriere, however, and I looked up helplessly as it got closer.  The spandex was shaped perfectly around it, making it look bigger and tighter the further she sank into the chair.

 

The outer edge of her buttock touched down on me, pushing me into the cushion as her weight pressed down on me.  I tried to fight back, but there was nothing I could do against her enormous ass as it curved my body with its contours.  Her butt was too powerful, and she used it as an instrument to assert her will.  When the cushion could give no more my body squeezed under her buttock, and I heard my bones creaking from the pressure.  After a sudden shock of agony my body gave out, and I was flattened to a quarter-sized splotch stuck to the side of her gargantuan ass.

 

Samantha felt the tiny bit of liquid spread under her butt and stood, then gave her butt cheek a solid slap.  She let out a loud cackle and declared, “Guess he ended up being the butt of the joke after all!”  Smiling broader than she had since he ruined her wedding, she gathered the boxes he had gotten ready for her under an arm and walked out.  Her key still worked, so she locked the door and left, eager to put him out of her mind for good.  

Chapter End Notes:

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