Dawn of the Amazon (very tentative title)
By The Wordmaster
An Undisclosed Location
Thursday, April 11
Time Unknown
----------------------------------
Dr. Linda Morris carefully calibrated the electron field. If her calculations
were correct, exposing the serum she had developed to the proper amount of
radiation would yield the formula the Department of Agriculture had been seeking
for years: a miracle drug that would increase the world's food supply.
Unfortunately for Dr. Morris, and the entire world for that matter, strange
doings were about to transpire, as they usually do at the most inopportune
times. As Linda worked busily, she was overcome by her seasonal allergies and
heaved a mighty sneeze, splattering a minute amount of the growth serum into the
air. These tiny drops, which would not usually pose a threat, struck a passing
fruit fly, a species of insect which, as any college Bio student can tell you,
is prone to variations in its genetic makeup. Flying in a slightly more erratic
manner than before, and already taking on a fiendish green glow, the fruit fly
exited the lab's open window.
Meanwhile, Dr. Morris continued her experiments, unaware of the terrible
tragedy she had inflicted upon all mankind...
The Everglades, Florida
Saturday, May 25
3:13 PM EST
-------------------------------
"The Everglades is well-known for its wide variety of plant and animal life,"
droned the tour guide. "To your left, you can see a large stretch of
uninteresting swampland. To your right, a slightly smaller stretch of equally
uninteresting swampland."
As the tour guide continued his speech, Mrs. Marla J. Hubberts turned to her
husband. "This is the stupidest vacation you've taken us on yet, Walter! When we
said we wanted to go to Florida, we meant Disneyland, not..." at a loss for
words, she gestured at the steaming wilderness around the boat. "This!" she
concluded. "It's a hundred and ten degrees, humid beyond belief, and I am
miserable!"
"Mama! Mama!" interrupted the youngest of the Hubberts brood, little Amy. "Sumfin'
bit me!" She lifted her arm to her mother, exposing a raised red welt. A
sinister looking green fly buzzed away from the scene as Marla inspected her
five year old daughter's injury.
"There, you see, Walter? This vacation has been nothing but trouble! Your
little girl is going to die of malaria before this week is up, mark my words!
And another thing..." her tirade stopped short as she heard a tearing sound,
almost like fabric ripping.
All eyes on the boat turned towards little Amy, who suddenly didn't seem so
little after all....
Atlanta, Georgia
Monday, May 27
11:17 AM EST
-----------------------
"Please take this time to locate the emergency exit nearest to your seat,"
Allison continued her safety lecture, keeping her phony stewardess smile
plastered on as she spoke. "In case of a water landing, your seat cushion may be
used as a floatation device. Should the need arise -- OUCH!" She slapped at the
insect that had bitten the back of her neck. Already a large welt was forming.
Somewhat dizzily, she continued her speech, but her breathing was constricted as
her uniform seemed to tighten around her. "E-excuse me..." she mumbled.
She staggered down the aisle, stumbling over her high heels, which suddenly
seemed a few sizes too small. Heads turned to follow her slowly swelling form.
Her skirt rose higher and higher up her thighs, revealing her more than shapely
legs. A sudden POP! rang out through the cabin as a button flew off her blouse.
Her expanding chest quickly sent more buttons spraying outwards. Passengers
shielded themselves from the hail of fasteners, then gaped in amazement as
Allison's head bumped the cabin's ceiling. Her clothing hung from her nearly ten
foot frame in rags.
The passengers stared at the giant stewardess. The giant stewardess stared at
the passengers, then fainted dead away. The plane shook when her body hit the
floor.
Montgomery, Alabama
Thursday, May 30
9:47 PM EST
-------------------------------
"C'mon, baby! Just a little lovin' fer good luck!" Biff Strickland rubbed his
callous hands along his girlfriend's shoulders, inching them downwards towards
her bountiful breasts, hidden beneath her cheerleader outfit. "Alabama State's
football tryouts are tomorrow, and I wanna be in top condition. So... how's
about a little late night exercise?" He leaned in for a kiss.
Amber turned away, staring out the passenger side window of Biff's car. "Aw,
lay off, Biff. I'm not in the mood."
Biff growled, his thick football player's neck tensing up. "Amber, I'm only
gonna ask once." He leaned in close, his beery breath making her cringe. "Then
I'm gonna get mean."
Amber suddenly flinched. "Ow! Damn bugs!"
"Quit stallin' and gimme some sugar," Biff demanded. He grabbed Amber and
pulled her across his lap, pressing his lips into hers. She struggled as he
fumbled with her top, causing him to laugh. His laughter died, however, as her
struggles grew increasingly more powerful. Before he knew it, Amber's enormous
body filled his car, and he was staring directly into his girlfriend's gigantic
face.
"Well, well, little Biff," she chuckled, grabbing him around the waist.
"Still want a little 'exercise'?"
Biff's terrified screams echoed throughout the parking lot, mingling with his
titanic girlfriend's moans of pleasure.
The White House
Sunday, June 2
10:13 PM EST
----------------------------
"Mr. President! Mr. President!"
mumble... moan...
"Mr. President! Wake up, sir!"
mmf... mumble....
"Sir! Something terrible has happened! There's been another report of a
mysterious, unexplainable growth!"
"Wha? No, no! It can't be!"
"I'm afraid so, sir. What do you suggest?"
"This is too big a problem for any of our people to handle. We need a... a...
superhero! Yeah, that's it! A superhero! Quick, get me Washington's list of
superheroes!"
"Umm... yes sir."
The presidential aide left the bedroom of G.W. shaking his head. "We're
doomed."
The Library Of Congress
Sunday, June 2
10:42 PM EST
---------------------------------
"Superheroes? He wants superheroes?" the head archivist asked incredulously.
"That's what he said," replied the aide, rubbing the bridge of his nose,
trying to ease his migraine headache. Working directly for the President was
beginning to take its toll on him.
"Did you tell him that superheroes don't really exist?"
"I don't think that would help."
The archivist sighed. "All right, I'll see what I can dig up."
The Library Of Congress
Sunday, June 2
11:51 PM EST
--------------------------------
"Well, here's a list of everyone with a superhero-sounding name I could find on
the Internet."
"Thanks. I'll deliver this to the President right away."
"Yeah, sure. And while you're there, try to get rid of his comic book
collection."
The White House
Monday, June 3
12:19 AM EST
------------------------------
"How about this one, sir? Action Jackson?"
"No, no, doesn't have quite the ring a true superhero needs. Y'know, like
Superman. Says everything you need to know right in his first name: he's a man,
and he's super." President Bush mused a bit. "Superman isn't available, is he?"
"Dear God, sir!" shouted the aide. "Would you just pick somebody?"
"Fine, fine," grumbled G.W. "Get me..." he ran his finger down the printout,
stopping at random. Reading the name, he paused a most dramatic pause.
"The Wordmaster..."
Chicago, IL
Monday, June 3
3:41 PM CST
--------------------------------
I was awakened from my much-deserved afternoon nap by a sharp rapping at the
door. I heaved an agitated sigh. If they weren't interrupting my afternoon nap,
they were interrupting my morning nap. Or my evening nap. Or my post-breakfast
siesta. A growing boy needs his sleep, and although I wasn't growing at the
moment, it's always best to be prepared for anything. Grumbling, I made my way
to the front door where I was greeted by two men wearing dark sunglasses and
three piece suits, practically carbon copies of each other. If I were one of
those paranoid, X-files watching, Dungeons & Dragons playing, dateless losers,
my brain would be yelling "CONSPIRACY! GOVERNMENT COVERUP!" As it was, I had
more realistic things on my mind.
"Well, hey there little fellas!" I began. "A bit early for today's signing,
aren't we? Well, lemme go get my autograph pen..."
"Are you The Wordmaster?" the one on the left interrupted.
"Who wants to know?" I grinned haughtily.
The two exchanged glances, then coldcocked me.
O'hare Airport
Monday, June 3
6:02 PM CST
---------------------
"OK," I began, exasperated, gingerly running my fingertips over the huge bump
forming on my head. "Run this by me once more."
"America needs your help. What we are about to tell you is for your ears
only," started the agent on the left.
"The Department of Agriculture, seeking a serum that would increase the size
of fruits and vegetables, mistakenly allowed the viral strain to escape, and now
it's spreading, causing those infected by it to grow to approximately twice
their normal size," continued the agent on the right.
We hustled through the airport, heading for our flight to Washington.
"And what exactly does that have to do with me? I mean, aside from involving
giant women."
"You've been singled out by President Bush himself as just the superhero
needed to stop this impending crisis."
"Superhero?" I asked, dumbfounded. Now, I'm not the kind of person who
generally follows politics, but from what I'd seen on SNL, Georgie Bush wasn't
the brightest bulb in the... um... how does that one go? Well, you know what I'm
trying to say. "Look, you got the wrong guy! I'm no superhero, I'm an author.
See, WORD-master. Get it?" I chuckled at my own display of wit.
One thing you learn real fast about government agents: they have little or no
sense of humor. They exchanged another glance, then coldcocked me again.
***
I awoke in a white room. A very white room. Everything, the walls, the floor,
the ceiling, the chair I sat in, was a staggeringly bright white. I looked
around for some clue as to where I was, but some joker had replaced the handy
setting headers with three asterisks. Looks like I was in the dark for a while.
I rose, running my hands along the walls, looking for a door. Whoever
designed this room sure made it pretty hard to find the exit. After inspecting
all the walls, I found no trace of any hinges, any knobs, any seams, or any way
in or out. Wait a second! My fingers had encountered a small imperfection. I
leaned in closer, trying to identify it as a secret switch or a --
SLAM!
Safety tip: if you're not sure where the door is, don't go leaning in close
to walls. Odds are, it's gonna end up being right under your forehead.
I staggered back, clutching my throbbing head, as two men in labcoats entered
the room.
"Mr. Wordmaster, sir? Are you all right?" they exclaimed, rushing to my side.
"Just fine," I managed to choke out.
"Excellent. Let's get you down to the lab."
I was marched down a long hallway and into a bustling lab. Scientists, all
clad in identical white lab coats, tinkered endlessly on their little projects.
I was taken before one doctor, a stunningly beautiful brunette, and introduced.
"Dr. Morris, meet The Wordmaster."
She extended her hand. "Pleased to meet you. I understand you'll be saving
the world."
I shook her hand, grinning sheepishly. "Well, that's what they tell me. I'm
really gonna need a lot of help."
She smiled winningly. "Well, that's why I'm here. You've been briefed, I
assume?"
"Pretty much. Some pathetic excuse for a scientist let some growth virus
escape, and now everybody's in a tizzy trying to find a cure."
Dr. Morris's smile slipped. "Well, more or less. It's not really a virus,
it's an insect spread condition, not contagious unless through a certain breed
of fly. We do need a cure, which you're in charge of finding for us. And as for
that 'pathetic excuse for a scientist'," she paused dangerously. "That was me."
Gulp. "Geez, did I say 'pathetic excuse'? I meant, um, shining... example?"
Dr. Morris smirked. "Don't apologize. It was quite careless of me. But, back
to the matter at hand. What we need you to do is find one of the infected
persons, draw a blood sample," here she held up a rather large hypodermic
needle, "and bring it back to the lab."
"A blood sample? Might that be a bit... dangerous?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Extremely. Thus far, every infected person has been
very unwilling to cooperate. That's why we're going to equip you with the best
we've got." She snapped her fingers. "Boys?"
My two escorts materialized, carrying an impossibly large amount of...
well... I wasn't quite sure what it all was.
"Now, here we have what appears to be an ordinary black leather trenchcoat.
In fact, it is bulletproof, waterproof, flameproof, and to a certain extent,
crushproof. It also comes with a wide variety of pockets to hold the numerous
other toys we'll be giving you. All of which," he leveled a serious gaze at me
before continuing, "are on LOAN, and are to be returned in full working order at
the completion of your mission."
He and his companion went down the line of equipment: sunglasses featuring
both X-ray and Infrared vision modes; gloves with the latest in micro-fiber
technology, able to grip any surface; boots guaranteed to never leave
footprints; a package of small, yet extremely powerful explosives disguised as
Tic Tacs; a high-power laser beam disguised as a ballpoint pen; and anything
else they thought might come in handy. They urged me to try on the complete
ensemble. When all was said and done, I looked like a five year old kid dressed
up as Keanu Reeves in the Matrix for Halloween.
"Have you guys ever heard of the concept of subtlety? I mean, don't you think
I'll draw quite a bit of attention in this get up?"
Dr. Morris shot me a withering look. "It was either this or the spandex
leotard and a cape."
"Oh, cool! I could've had a cape?"
"Do you want a cape?"
"If I'm gonna be a superhero, I'm gonna need a cape. Or at least a utility
belt."
"Oh, we've got something even better than a utility belt!" Exclaimed a
passing technician. With a great flourish, he produced two bright yellow elastic
bands with alligator clips on the ends.
I stared for a moment. "What the hell are these?"
"Utitlity suspenders! They perform essentially the same function as a utility
belt, but with twice the carrying capacity. Plus, they're quite stylish!"
I looked back and forth between the suspenders and the technician's grinning
face. Finally, I shouted at the top of my lungs: "Has anyone in this lab ever
heard of a little thing called 'Fashion Sense'?"
***
I was hustled outside to a sleek, black limo which was to take me to my
destination. Once there, my mission was clear: Find a giant person, stick them
with a big needle, pull out some blood, and return to the lab.
I said it was clear, not easy.
Amber Dudzak's House
Montgomery, Alabama
Wednesday, June 5
1:36 PM EST
-------------------------------
According to the list of known growth instances, Amber Dudzak was one of the
earlier cases. And we all agreed that it would be smartest to track down those
who had had time to adjust to their new heights. With that in mind, I knocked on
the solid oak door, waiting for someone to answer.
"Let's see," I murmered to myself. "How does one address a ten foot tall
cheerleader? 'Hello, Amber, my name is The Wordmaster. Might I trouble you for a
pint of blood?' No, that's no good. 'Gee, Amber, you look like you could stand
to lose a little weight.' No, that's probably not a good idea. Hmmm.... 'Hey,
Amber, whaddaya say we get down, get nasty, and get it on?' Hey, I am a
macrophile, after all."
It suddenly occured to me that I had been standing on the Dudzak's front
porch for over five minutes now, well beyond the time it usually takes a family
to answer the door. I knocked again. Another long wait, but still no answer. I
shifted my weight nervously, took some deep breaths, and rationalized that since
I was now a secret agent, breaking and entering really didn't apply to me. Then
I kicked the door down.
Entering the Dudzak's was reminiscent of wandering onto the set of Fight
Club. The house was in complete disrepair. Lamps were smashed, furniture was
overturned, very large holes were gouged into the walls. All in all, it was
plain that somebody had gotten extremely angry and extremely violent. Given the
extent of the damage, that somebody could only be Amber herself. I began my
search for any survivors or witnesses and was not disappointed. Huddled in the
hall closet, bound and gagged and trembling in fear, were Mr. and Mrs. Dudzak.
Amber Dudzak's House
Montgomery, Alabama
Wednesday, June 5
2:43 PM EST
-------------------------------
"...and then she stomped out of the house. We haven't seen her since," concluded
Mr. Dudzak, gently rubbing his sobbing wife's shoulders.
"So, let me see if I've got this straight," I began, scribbling furiously in
my notebook. "Amber came home from her date with Biff. She seemed unusually
happy and unusually... ahem... tall. She stayed here for a week, during which
she displayed much more self-confidence and strong-willed behavior than normal.
All right so far?"
Mrs. Dudzak nodded. "She was such a sweet girl," she said brokenly. "But then
this happened and she changed so much. She made us... do things for her." She
shuddered. "It was like we were nothing to her."
I nodded. "Well, that seems understandable. A ten foot teenage girl isn't
likely to pay her parents much mind."
"Anyway, after we refused some of her more... outrageous demands, she
exploded. She locked us in the closet and took off. That was three days ago."
Mr. Dudzak wore a look of terror and worry. "Please," he locked eyes with me.
"Bring my daughter back."
I stared at the forlorn parents for a moment. "I'll do my best."
Montgomery, Alabama
Wednesday, June 5
8:47 PM EST
-------------------------------
It had taken quite some time, but after a brief investigation of the town I
discovered two other families in similar situations. Their daughters had been
bitten by the bug and they had lost all respect for authority. I shook my head
as I strode purposefully down the street. Kids these days. Each family told the
same story as the Dudzaks: their daughter had disappeared to parts unknown. It
had taken hours of searching and more than a little palm greasing, but I finally
got a lead as to where the titanic teens could be hiding out. And so, I made my
way to the local abandoned warehouse, reflecting on the fact that if cities
would only eliminate these warehouses, they would eliminate a good deal of
crime.
I reached my destination as the sun was dipping below the horizon. Crumbling
brick walls hunkered dejectedly in the shadows, framing a heavy door made of
rusted metal. To the left of the door, a yellowed piece of paper fluttered in
the gentle breeze. "Ring bell for entry," it read. I cocked my head, staring at
the doorbell beneath the note. I was equipped with the latest in spy technology,
able to break into any impenetrable fortress, and the enemy was just inviting me
in? This would never do. After a bit of pondering, I came up with a plan.
I slunk around the building, keeping in the shadows, humming the "Mission:
Impossible" theme all the while. Once I reached the back, I turned to face the
wall before me. Pressing my gloved hands against the cracked bricks, I felt the
microfibers woven into the leather grip the rough surface. I pulled upwards,
lifing my body off the ground. Changing my tune to the theme from Spiderman, I
continued climbing the vertical face of the building.
"Spiderman, Spiderman! Does whatever a spider can! Umm... something,
something, la da da da da dee da..." I let my song trail off, partly because I
was on the roof. Dirty plate glass windows leaned heavily against their frames,
smoke swirled around the roof, and I could just make out a muffled voice coming
from inside. I wiped some of the grime off a window and peered in. Bingo! The
trio of amazonian girls was directly below me, squabbling over something. Their
faint voices reached my ears as I wracked my brain trying to remember what I had
learned about them from their families.
"I dunno, Amber, is this really such a good idea?" This question came from a
young, delicate Asian girl, Karen Huang, aged 18. She stood 5' 4" before being
infected, which meant she was now a solid 10' 8". She wore what appeared to be a
bedsheet wrapped around her as a makeshift toga. It did nothing to hide the fact
that beneath that fabric lurked some dangerous, delectable curves.
"Geez, Karen, lighten up. There's nothing to worry about!" These words
rumbled from the magnificent chest of a voluptuous redhead. Melissa, 11' 4",
bust size god-only-knows, was dressed in an old bathrobe. Designed for a large
man, she wore it as if it were a tiny teddy. The hem fell at her upper thigh,
and her prodigious chest prevented her from closing it entirely. Every time she
moved, tantalizing peeps of her cleavage shifted into view.
"Melissa's right, Karen. This town is practically ours already. Who's gonna
stop us?" Amber was apparently much more free with her body than her companions.
She made no attempt to cover her 11' 6" frame and stood completely naked, her
blonde hair cascading down her back, lightly brushing her soft ass cheeks as she
paced. Melissa and Karen seemed distracted by her nakedness, but for different
reasons. Melissa lowered her eyes in distaste, but Karen inched closer to
Amber's beautiful body. Slipping out of her toga, she wrapped her arms around
Amber's neck and leaned upwards for a passionate kiss.
"You're right, Amber. I was just a little nervous." She ground her breasts
against Amber's, causing the blonde to moan in pleasure.
"Soon, baby," she panted, "we'll be calling the shots." Her hand quested
southwards, gripping Karen's buttock and giving it a quick squeeze.
My eyes bugged out of my head and I bit my knuckles to keep from revealing
myself. Giant lesbians! It was a macrophile's dream come true! I slapped myself
to regain my senses. These women were a menace! It was my mission to find a cure
for their gigantism. And I wasn't about to let any peepshow distract me from --
dear lord! Those girls were limber! No, no! Stay focused. Keep it together. Get
in, get a sample, get out. Get in, get a sample, get out. I repeated this to
myself several times as I backed away from the window to get a running start.
Sprinting forwards, I leapt through the glass and plummeted earthwards.
I struck the ground heavily and quickly rolled to the side to avoid the
shower of falling glass shards. As I rose to my feet, brushing dust from my
overcoat, I saw the girls break apart in surprise.
"Good evening, ladies," I began in my smoothest tone. Motioning to Amber and
Karen, I said graciously, "Oh, please, don't let me interrupt."
Now, years of reading and writing giantess fiction does nothing to prepare
you for the real thing. These girls stood only eleven feet tall, a fraction of
the height of my fantasy women, yet as they walked towards me I practically
broke my neck trying to see their faces. I had expected joy and awe inspired by
beauty. Instead, I was trembling with fear. These girls could snap me like a
twig and think nothing of it. As they advanced, their pretty faces twisted into
grimaces of anger.
"Who the hell are you?" sneered Amber.
I drew myself up to my full, unimposing height. "They call me The Wordmaster.
I'm with..." I fumbled for a moment. CIA? FBI? I had no idea who sent me. "GTS!"
I sputtered, then winced. Man, that sounded stupid.
"Never heard of 'em," Karen glared at me.
"Not surprising," I deadpanned.
"What are you doing here?" pressured Melissa.
"Actually, I just need a quick blood sample from one of you." I drew the hypo
needle from my pocket and raised my eyebrows expectantly.
The three exchanged a glance I was getting very familiar with. I raised my
hands and gestured for them to wait. "Hold on a sec," I said, removing my
sunglasses and placing them in my coat pocket. Taking a few deep breaths, I
cracked my kneck and shot the girls a quick glance. "All right, I'm ready."
The giantesses shrugged, raised their fists, then brought them down on my
head.
Abandoned Warehouse
Montgomery, Alabama
Wednesday, June 5
Time Unknown
--------------------------------
I awoke in Melissa's crotch. My face was cradled between her pale thighs; her
fluffy red bush lay directly before my eyes. The pungent aroma of her womanhood
made my eyes water.
"So, you're awake," she smirked down at me over her naked breasts. "Hope you
slept well." Loud moans of pleasure reached my ears, and I struggled to see
where they were coming from. Melissa clamped her thighs tightly around my head,
preventing me from moving. "It's just Karen and Amber," she said. "They've been
having fun all night. It almost makes me want to join them. But now," she leaned
closer to me, her hot breath caressing the back of my neck. "I've got my own
little boy toy." She gave her thighs a powerful squeeze, causing me to let out a
muffled scream. "You know what I want."
Only somewhat reluctantly, I began to lap at the enormous pussy before me.
Melissa's already damp lips grew even wetter as my tongue darted and jabbed at
her clitoris. She began to writhe, grinding her sex into my face even as I
pressed myself closer so as to probe deeper into her cunt. Screaming and
moaning, she bucked her hips wildly, releasing some of the pressure on me. I
looked upwards at her O-face, rivulets of cum dribbling down my chin. As I
continued my ministrations, I craftily snuck my hand into my trenchcoat and
pulled the needle out. Reaching around her thighs, I jabbed the needle into her
plump buttock, increasing the tempo of my licks to distract her attention.
Melissa was so overcome by pleasure, she never noticed me pull roughly half a
pint of blood from her succulent ass. I hid the hypo in my coat again, pausing a
moment to savor the warmth of the liquid against my chest.
Abandoned Warehouse
Montgomery, Alabama
Thursday, June 6
3:32 AM EST
-------------------------------
All told, I brought Melissa to climax three times that night. Of course, she had
to tell Karen and Amber about my skills as a lap dog, so by the end of the night
my tongue was cramping up severely. At last, worn out past exhaustion, the three
girls curled up and went to bed. Somewhat groggily, the scent of pussy forever
imbedded in my clothes and nasal cavity, I quietly made my exit.
Undisclosed Location
Thursday, June 6
4:57 PM EST
------------------------------
"And that, my friends, is the tale of my daring escape," I concluded with a
flourish. The assembled scientists, all male, might I add, applauded my skill
with information gathering, breaking and entering, and most of all lovemaking.
"Yep," I sniffed. "It's not easy to please a titaness, let alone three. I
certainly can say that I was definitely the man for this job. Yessir, if ever a
giantess storms this place, you just tell her The Wordmaster's on duty. I
guarantee she'll go weak at the knees just hearing my name!" I glanced around at
my audience, which had grown strangely silent. Turning, I found myself face to
face with the beautiful, and apparently unimpressed, Dr. Linda Morris.
"Well, Mr. Wordmaster, sounds like you had quite a time. But we have more
important matters to discuss. Come with me." She began walking, and I couldn't
help but notice her ass sway rhythmically from side to side.
I looked up at one of the aides, shooting him a glance all men must learn to
be successful: the "does this chick dig me" glance. The aide shook his head,
mouthing the words 'ice queen'. I nodded sympathetically and continued following
Dr. Morris. Once we reached her office, she took a seat at her desk, styled
after so many famed CEO's desks: tall, heavy, solid mahogany, and, above all,
imposing. Before her sat a vial of glowing green liquid and the hypo full of
blood I had absconded with.
Dr. Morris gestured to the green liquid. "This is what started it all, Mr.
Wordmaster. A single drop of this serum is potent enough to double the size of
any infected. Could you imagine the effect of an entire vial?" Her long fingers
reached out and gently caressed the flask. I noticed for the first time how
delectable her hands were. Soft, delicate palms and long, well-manicured
fingers. My mind began wandering into its traditional fantasies. What would it
be like to sit in the palm of that hand? To feel those fingers caress me as they
caressed that vial? The warmth of her sking, the slight dampness of her
persperation. "Tempting, isn't it?"I started. Her eyes locked with mine. It was
almost as if she were reading my mind. "But of course drinking the growth serum
would be foolishness."
"Y-yeah," I stammered. "Foolishness."
She stared at me intently. "Do you know why I sent you for this?" She raised
the blood sample.
I looked about confusedly. "To find a cure."
"To find a cure," she laughed. "Now, why would I want to do that?" She rose
from her seat. "This serum is power, don't you see? Complete and utter power!
Well, not complete. For you see, Mr. Wordmaster, size isn't everything. Sure, to
be gigantic is one thing, to tower over my puny subjects, to have them obey my
every command. But it's just not practical. What would I eat? Where would I
bathe? What would I wear? Well, I suppose clothing would be optional." This kind
of talk was stirring up mixed feelings within me. Here was a beautiful woman
openly admitting she wanted to be a goddess, but I was morally obligated to
prevent this at any cost.
"Do you know what this blood could really do?" she asked me. I shook my head.
She continued to speak as she poured the sample into the vial of growth serum.
"This blood will unlock the true potential of the serum. The power not only to
grow, but to control that growth!" She circled around the desk and lay her hands
on my shoulders, beginning a deep massage. I flinched at her touch, but her
ministrations quickly soothed my raging mind. "I will be a giantess when
necessary, Wordmaster, dominating the earth, but reducing my stature to a more
manageable size when not crushing buildings or..." she leaned down to whisper in
my ear, "pleasuring my miniature lovers." My heart raced as she reached her hand
around me for the vial. She brought the flask to her lips. 'Stop her!' screamed
my mind, but I was paralyzed, transfixed with what was unfolding before me. She
tossed back the liquid in one gulp and began to grow.
Undisclosed Location
Thursday, June 6
7:20 PM EST
------------------------------
I found myself in the rubble that was once a bustling lab. The events of the
past hour were a jumble of mixed images and fuzzy memories. Dr. Morris had
grown, which I at first found extremely exciting. But when she didn't stop, I
grew frightened. At twenty feet, completely nude, she burst from her office and
began to hunt down lab technicians, crushing them under her massive feet,
squeezing them in her powerful fists, humiliating them and destroying them,
growing all the while. I fled, seeking safety, but there was no where to go. My
fantasy had taken a major blow. The cruelty of this woman was astonishing. She
rose and rose, through the roof, then through the clouds, then went stomping
towards the nearest city. Her parting words were simple, yet terrifying:
"SEE YOU REAL SOON!"
I cursed myself for not stopping her when I had the chance. How could I have
been so stupid? I had unleashed a terrible evil upon the world. And as I stood
there, in the smoking rubble that rested in one of her footprints, I vowed that
I would be the one to bring her down.
To be continued........
by you!
For those who haven't figured it out, this was meant to be an intro to my next
project: a multi-author composition story. I am inviting any and all authors to
help me write the conclusion to this story.
Here's a general outline: Picking up where this one left off, Dr. Morris goes
off and creates an army of giantesses. Realizing that GTS authors pose a
significant threat to her operation, she has them all kidnapped and imprisoned.
A daring escape scene follows, leading to the climactic final battle sequence.
Folks can write a scene where they're captured, in prison, whatever. Giantesses
can be gentle or violent. Sex scenes are welcome. Wherever you want to go, as
long as you have to. If you're interested, e-mail me at [email protected] for
confirmation. Act now, as this offer won't last long!
The Wordmaster
Sitio recomendado:Giantess videos
Giantess Stories: Dawn of the Amazon
Thursday, April 11 An Undisclosed Location An Undisclosed Location By The Wordmaster By The Wordmaster Dawn of the Amazon (very tentative title) Dawn of the
giantess18
en
2021-08-01
Acording with the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (“DMCA”), Pub. L. 105-304 If you believe that your copyrighted work is being infringed, notify our team at the email [email protected]