Chapter Six
“Uuuunnnnggghhhh…” John groaned as he finally managed to open his eyes the following afternoon. He could tell from the skew of mellowed sunlight that was spilling in from Harper’s bedroom window that it was already sometime in the afternoon. Mustering up a herculean effort, he turned to his right in the bed, only to discover that he was alone. Harper was nowhere to be seen. John tried to gather the energy to sit up, but after a couple failed attempts he simply lay there inert, marveling at the extent of his bodily exhaustion.
True, his head was throbbing slightly, but the pain was nowhere near what he would have expected, judging by the amount of that pink panther punch he drank the previous night. This wasn’t a normal kind of hangover — the throbbing headaches and overwhelming nausea that John had come to expect were completely absent, but in their place was a comprehensive physical exhaustion, the likes of which he had never experienced in his life. The closest thing that he could compare it to was the night after his first two-a-day soccer practice his junior year of high school after he had made the varsity team. But the state he was in now, this total vacancy of any energy in his body, was something else entirely. He was completely drained.
Little did John know that he had shrunk 2 whole inches after his first bout of sex with Harper, and then an additional inch after she had come back for more. Thanks to the distraction of his utter exhaustion, he also had no idea that he had lost 12 pounds. Before he had entered the Kappa Gamma Delta sorority house, he clocked in at 6’1, 176 pounds. Now he was only 5’9, 164. He was now only 4 inches taller and 26 pounds heavier than Harper, a girl whom he had previously dwarfed. But John was ignorant of Harper’s growth just as he was of his own shrinkage; he had been distracted by Harper’s insatiable appetite sexing him into senselessness last night. Nor was he aware that the “pink panther” punch was something far more sinister, and ancient, than he imagined, and which had contributed to his shrinking. As John lay there, he realized that he could still smell Harper on her sheets and pillows…the woody, creamy scent…with a hint of spice…sandalwood. He felt a throb of affectionate emotion as he saw her laughing face behind his eyelids.
After about half an hour of simply laying there with his eyes closed, recounting the weird frenzy of the previous night’s party, John was finally able to sit up and look around. Harper’s bedroom looked fairly ordinary now…it was odd…hadn’t there been a bunch of lit candles the night before? Like, dozens and dozens of them? Why had she taken them away? It also struck John as a bit strange that he hadn’t heard a single voice anywhere in the sorority house since the moment he had woken up. His own fraternity house was constantly buzzing with activity, and there was always someone talking or laughing or moving around or…or something. But, for the half hour he had been awake, John had not heard a single, solitary sound coming from inside the house. The distant white noise of traffic hanging indistinctly in the air was the only sound he heard. It was weird…very weird.
‘Well,’ mused John, putting his feet on the floor, ‘I guess the girls at Kappa Gamma Delta are pretty invested in their studies.’ He suddenly remembered that yes, this totally made sense, because KGD was a sorority for young women who were studying medicine. Of course the house was quiet!
‘Everyone’s probably at the library or something!’ chuckled John to himself, standing up. ‘Or…the lab…or, wherever.’
His mind went back to focusing on Harper, and what a surprisingly…ravenous and…and animalistic sex fiend she was. But as he stood up, John felt a little unsteady on his feet, and he fell back down into a sitting position on the bed. He thought back to how hungry her eyes had been when she had his dick in her mouth, sucking and pulling on his cock head with her lips like it had been the tastiest lollipop in the world…he thought back to how insistently and passionately she had ridden him, and how, even after that first insane session, she had come back for more, rousing him from his sleep, only to fuck him back down into unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. He felt a throb somewhere deep in the base of his cock, and he hardened a little, thinking about Harper and her beautiful hazel eyes.
His arousal seemed to give him a little jolt of energy, and he stood back up, this time managing to keep his balance. Looking around, he found his clothes all folded neatly in a little pile on one of Harper’s nightstands.
‘Oh my god she is just precious,’ thought John as his heart welled up. ‘All that crazy sex last night, and she bothers to fold my clothes for me before she goes to class.’ He felt a sudden jolt of panic, thinking that he had missed his Friday morning class, but then almost immediately he relaxed, remembering that it was Saturday. He unfolded his shirt first and slid it on, appreciating that it too smelled of Harper’s spicy, woody scent.
‘Jesus,’ he thought, chuckling, ‘She washed my clothes too? This girl is a keeper for sure.’
But something wasn’t right. The t-shirt was looser around his torso. Puzzled, John looked down. It was his shirt all right. Last night it had fit perfectly, but now it was definitely too big for him…like, a whole size too big.
‘I guess it got bigger in the wash,’ John mused. But that explanation didn’t satisfy him — clothes didn’t get bigger in the wash — they shrank. John stood there for a few seconds, puzzled. But after a few moments he just shrugged his shoulders and unfolded his jeans.
‘I guess they use some weird detergent here or something,’ he thought. ‘Strange geeky premed girls.’
But in the midst of these thoughts, he suddenly paused in the middle of putting on his jeans. He had suddenly remembered the other sorority girls…and he felt his cock inflate again. Good god, were these girls even real? It had all seemed so surreal, so weird, that John began to seriously wonder if the party had all been a dream. But there no way it had been — it couldn’t have been a dream, because the images flashing through his mind were so stark and palpable that there could be no question that they had transpired. His memory flared up and he was bombarded with a host of images: that incredibly tall, curvy amazon, with the piercings and the buzz cut…Vera, that was her name…guarding the punch bowl…her deep-set green eyes, her full lips smirking down at him. Oh god, and what about those two woman guarding the door?? John unconsciously parted his lips as his breath began to come forward in slight little pants. What were their names?? One of them had the same name as a Disney character, he remembered…Ariel! That was it! God she was something else — long black hair, pale skin, and those coal-black eyes burning down into his. The other girl…the one with the long spills of white hair…and her pale hazel eyes…like, Jesus she had some curves — they all did! John couldn’t remember her name.
But then another image came into view: the Kappa Gamma Delta dance floor, the strobe light beaming in rhythm through the purple fog that crawled across the ground…the scene was already eccentric enough, but what really came to the forefront of John’s mind were the black, indistinct shapes of people on the dance floor — the short, skinny men, barely moving in place as they “danced” with the tall, luscious amazonian women. It was so strange! ALL of the men had been smaller, and ALL of the women had been taller, bigger, thicker…and their dance movements, the aggressive and elaborate curves and passes they had been making in the air with their hands in time to the strange beats of the ambient music…well, it all seemed very odd to say the least. But what a night it had been! And his sex with Harper — it was by far the best he had ever had. As he pulled up his jeans, John was willing to dismiss the strangeness of the sorority for the intensity of the pleasure he had experienced.
But just then, he buttoned up his jeans and realized that they were loose around his waist. And not only that, but there were several extra inches of the legs that were crumpled up around his bare feet.
“Now wait a minute,” John said out loud, exasperated. “What the fuck? What the — these fit fine yesterday! What’s going on!?”
In vain, he tried to pull his jeans up again and rally them around his waist, but it was no use. The jeans were several inches too big for him, both in the waist and in the legs. Frustrated, John caught up his belt, which Harper had coiled carefully up into a little snake-like circle, and threaded it through his jeans. When he tightened it, he saw that the customary belt hole that was worn from use was several sizes too big, and so he had to tighten his belt further, until he found himself buckling through the very last hole, the smallest size available on his belt. Only then did it fit his waist.
“What…the hell?” John said again. And then, with a sickeningly cold shudder, he remembered his friends all talking to him about the rumors swirling around Kappa Gamma Delta…and how guys who went into the sorority house came out…smaller. John looked down at himself, standing there in Harper’s bedroom in his now-oversized clothes, and for a moment he was about to have a panic attack. He felt his chest and his throat tightening, and for several seconds his breathing became heavy and labored, as the muscle of his heart began to burn behind his sternum.
“Wait!” he suddenly said aloud to himself, “Wait!!” He held out his hands in the universal “stop” motion, and made an effort to take several deep breaths. “Come on, what am I doing here?” he said out loud, forcing himself to laugh. “Freaking out over my clothes!? Hahaha come on! It’s nothing! It’s no big deal! Something weird just happened with the wash, and that’s it! Hahaha, come on, are you seriously afraid that…that…you know? Come on! That’s impossible!”
John was not in the habit of talking to himself, but in this particular instance, his instinct to panic had been so acute that he unconsciously resorted to reassuring himself out loud. It helped — he saw his fears for what they were: silly gossip, spread by a bunch of dudes who weren’t lucky enough to be invited to a KGD party themselves. John decided to not think about all those short skinny men, and their tall, buxom, dominating, and amazonian dance partners. He decided not to think about the oddity of his clothes not fitting. He decided instead to focus on Harper, and specifically on seeing if he could score another date with her. Even in the midst of all those other beautiful, gigantic women, Harper remained the shining light to him. He pulled on his socks and shoes, paused for a second when he realized that they, too, were a bit too big, and then chuckled, shoving down all his irrational fears into his subconscious as he left Harper’s bedroom. Still though, something pricked at his mind a little — his shoes too?? How were they a little too big?
But John had decided not to think about it, and he descended the stairs slowly, still weak from the previous night. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he got a nasty shock. He was not alone in the house. All around the main room of the sorority house lay dozens of small men, some of them just around 5 feet tall, and some of them not taller than 3 feet, all splayed out on the floor, unconscious. Just seeing them all in the daylight came as quite a jolt to John, and he was able to see, even though they were lying down on the floor, that they weren’t just short. They were skinny too, with some of the shorter men appearing to suffer from an alarmingly advanced state of…what was it?? Anorexia?? Or something like it, surely…their thin little arms and legs looked like they could be snapped like twigs. They all looked like they had fallen unconscious during the party last night. With a shudder, John noticed that a number of them were completely naked. A faint sweet smell, a hint of a raspberries, hung in the still air, and seemed to contrast with the lewd, obscene, silent scene before him.
For a moment, John felt sick; he felt like he had stumbled into somewhere he didn’t belong. Very quickly, he felt his panic start to rise again. He had to get out of there. He ran up to the heavy front door, and with difficulty managed to pull it open, bursting out onto the front porch. He had to turn and check his steps to keep from tumbling down the steep stairs, and in doing so, he saw that the enormous white-haired amazon who had stopped him last night at the door was sitting there on the porch, casually stirring a large black cauldron of steaming liquid as her long white hair fluttered lightly in the gentle breeze. The cauldron was heated from below by what looked like a large bunsen burner that burned a vibrant shade of red, even though the burner itself did not appear to be connected to a gas line. The huge woman looked up mildly at John and smiled, her light hazel eyes narrowing pleasantly.
“Well hello there John!” she said cheerfully as she stirred. “You’re the first of the boys up today, I see. Not really surprising, I guess…although…I heard that you and our little Harper had quite a time last night.”
“I…uh…what? I mean yeah — y-yeah, we did,” said John in a stumbling way, uncomfortable with how this huge, beautiful woman was casually airing out his private time with Harper. He suddenly wished that he could remember this woman’s name.
“You remember my name?” asked the woman, right on cue. John felt his heart start to beat faster as he racked his brain. For several moments the buxom amazon just sat there looking at him, a genial smirk on her face, as she continued to stir the cauldron.
“Haha, don’t think too hard!” she teased. For some reason, John desperately wanted to remember…her hair…her long, white spills of hair…white skin…she looked like some kind of warrior princess…like a Viking or a Nordic queen…Nordic…Nor…
“Nora!!” he burst out, his eyes going wide as a smile twisted up his lips.
“Woowwww, very good!” laughed Nora, nodding her head appreciatively. “I didn’t think you’d remember. Most guys don’t remember too much after their first night in our house.”
Without even realizing it, John stepped a little closer to her. Even sitting down as she was, Nora’s great white head came all the way up to John’s shoulders. Unlike the previous night, when she had been all decked out in tall platform boots, her feet were bare, and John could see her toes curling lightly in the delightfully mild September air. He could hardly believe her body — jeans shorts that only reached down the first quarter of her huge, creamy thighs, and a white t-shirt that stretched across her gigantic breasts. She looked so huge, so strong and solid, and yet, undeniably feminine. He quickly decided that she must have been a basketball or volleyball player.
“Umm,” he said timidly, as his mind burned with questions and overstimulation from what he was seeing, “wh-what…what happened to all those, uh…those guys inside there?”
“To them? Oh, the same thing that happened to you,” chuckled Nora as she peered carefully into the steaming cauldron. “They’re just all tuckered out.”
“From…oh…oh, ok,” said John, nodding his head. Somehow he wasn’t satisfied with this answer. Nora bent down and selected a small tincture bottle out of an open case under her chair, and, closing one eye to measure the exact number, very carefully dripped in two drops of deep blue liquid. The steaming mixture, whatever it was, suddenly fizzed and boiled up aggressively, scaring John for a moment and causing him to jump back.
“Haha, it’s ok little guy, nothing to be afraid of,” laughed Nora, crushing up some dried thyme flowers with her hand and sprinkling them into the cauldron.
John smarted at being called “little guy,” since it awoke latent fears inside him, but he did not yet have the courage to ask Nora about the…shrinking rumors directly.
“Wh-what’s…what’s that you’re making there?” he asked instead, stepping back up to the big pot.
“Oh, you know…eye of newt, and toe of frog, wool of bat, and tongue of dog,” said Nora dryly. She let a few moments pass in silence and then turned to him, a sudden smile on her face.
“You know?” she laughed, “From Macbeth?”
“Uhhh…” said John. He had once breezed through the sparknotes on the play for a test in high school, but that was about as far as he had gotten.
“Oh come on, you don’t know your Shakespeare?” chided Nora.
“I mean, uh…he was, he was pretty good at writing plays, right?” ventured John. Nora grinned at him kindly, but then her expression became a bit more serious as she nodded her head.
“Yes,” she said. “And he understood, better than most, the mysterious forces which guide our world. That’s why he’s still so popular.”
“Um…ok,” said John, a bit puzzled and out of his depth.
“But anyway,” said Nora, reverting to her previous, casual amicability as she gestured to the cauldron, “This is a mild schrumpfen tank, and let me tell you, it’s a complicated recipe.”
“Uh, what’s it for?” asked John, a bit weirded out by how Nora had pronounced the word. Was she, like…fluent in German or something?
“Oh, this and that,” she said airily, tilting her head towards him playfully. “Say, John,” she said suddenly, raising one of her eyebrows in curiosity, “Your clothes look a little big on you. What happened last night?”
“Uh,” he said, his heart starting to beat fast again, “I was actually gonna ask you about that. Harper…I think, uh…she washed all my clothes. Very nice of her, of course, haha. But I think the detergent that she, uh, used…uh, I think it made my clothes get bigger.”
“Get bigger?” laughed Nora. “Haha, no that’s not possible. Clothes don’t get bigger in the wash!”
“W-well,” said John, feeling increasingly desperate, “I don’t know what’s going on then, because my clothes definitely got bigger!”
“Well it’s pretty simple, isn’t it?” said Nora. Suddenly she stood up, putting her hands on her huge hips, causing John to take a step backwards. She was just so…big. John found that, even as Nora stood there in her bare feet, he was looking straight into the tops of her enormous, swelling breasts.
“S-simple?” he stuttered.
“Yes!” she said pleasantly, winking down at him. “Your clothes didn’t get bigger — you got smaller!”
“Wh-what!? But…but th-that’s…that’s not possible!” exclaimed John.
“I don’t knowwwww,” said Nora, cocking her head as she looked down on him with wide playful eyes. “You look smaller to me than you were last night!”
“N-no I don’t!” John said stubbornly. He stood up as high as he could. “I’m…I’m 6’1! You’re…you’re just…just super tall!”
“Well,” chuckled Nora, “I am super tall, that is true. But psssshhh,” and here she waved her hand, “6’1!? Pleeease you’re not an inch over 5’9.”
“That’s not true!” cried John, with more energy than he had intended. Nora’s hazel eyes sparkled down at him; she was clearly enjoying all of this.
“Well there’s only one way to find out!” she said. “Go over and stand there with your back to the wall — I’ll measure you myself.”
Giantess World
Chapter End Notes:
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