EIGHT MORE BLOCKS

Part I

by willie

Eight more blocks. Eight more blocks to go before I could park my dump truck,

hop into my pick-up, and head home where I had about a dozen cold ones waiting

for me. Eight more blocks of two lane bumper to bumper traffic. I was in the

truck lane. I was tired of stepping on and off the stiff clutch. I was tired of

other smaller cars cutting in front of me. I was tired of the traffic. I was

just plain tired. It was Friday evening after a long work week. I should have

been halfway home to my icy cold Millers, but because of the damned traffic, I

was still in my ten wheeler with eight more blocks to go.

I glanced out my window as a dull blue Ford pulled up next to me, it had

obviously last seen any car wax about ten years ago when it was brand new. The

driver was an older woman wearing slacks that hang off her scrawny legs. I

quickly looked ahead. In the seat of my truck, I sit much higher than the people

in cars who pass me. I have a clear shot, not of their faces, but of their

thighs. They can't see me at all. When they look out their passenger side

window, all they see is the faded and scratched brown paint of my truck door.

I make it a habit to look into cars as they pass me. Actually I don't even know

I'm doing it. Driving a truck all day can be quite boring. Looking into cars

that pass me by helps break the monotony.

Usually what I see doesn't thrill me. I can usually see the person's face from

my side window as their vehicle approaches mine. If it's a man, I don't bother

looking. If it's a woman, I look every time. Even ugly women can have nice legs.

One out of every ten women deserve a second glance. Usually they're wearing

pants. If they aren't wearing pants they are either too fat or too thin to

warrant a second look. Every now and then, though, I get what I refer to as a

winner.

The Ford moved on and an older version VW beetle replaced it. It's a man,

probably a throw-back from the sixties. I could see an air freshener hanging

from the rear view mirror. I was curious to see if he has long hair, but looking

in his window, I can only see his worn blue jeans. I looked up to find the

traffic in my lane moving again ever so slightly. Again I lifted my left foot

off the clutch and pressed the accelerator slightly with my other foot. The

Caterpillar 3208 engine under the hood inched me forward. Seconds later I

stepped on the clutch again, not to shift into second, but to take it out of

gear. My lane has once again stopped dead.

In my side mirror I saw a red Porsche approaching slowly. The woman behind the

wheel appeared to be a knockout. Her lane was moving, barely, so I waited for my

chance to catch a thigh shot. My patience pays off. Not only did she catch up to

me, but the traffic stopped with her right next to me.

I looked out my window and I saw the most perfect set of thighs I have ever laid

eyes upon, the uppermost part covered by a white skirt. They weren't skinny

thighs. They were not fat ones either. They were succulent. Just like I

preferred them. If I ever got married, or if I ever even got a girlfriend,

that's what I would want her thighs to look like. As I sat gawking, I noticed

the owner of the Porsche and of the thighs seemed to be holding her legs

together quite unnaturally, like she was squeezing them together for some odd

reason. Unfortunately the skirt kept me from seeing all the way to the crotch,

so I couldn't tell what if anything she was squeezing. I figured she probably

needed to go to the bathroom. If she did, she was in trouble because this

traffic appeared to be going nowhere fast.

Her lane crept ahead. In seconds she was two car lengths ahead of me. After

being passed by a Chevy pick-up and then a blue Toyota, both driven by men, My

lane started moving again. The left lane had come to a stop. With any luck I'd

catch another shot of the chick, probably a rich chick, in her Porsche. As I

drew close, and was able to see into the passenger side window again, I could

see the mystery driver pull her skirt down like she knew I was looking at it.

This time I only got a quick glance. As I drew even with the Porsche, the left

lane moved ahead. I did see enough to convince myself that the driver was

definitely squeezing her thighs together. My curiosity was beginning to get the

best of me.

It seemed that traffic was all of a sudden moving better. I once again caught up

to the Porsche. Although my lane was moving faster at that point, I kept my

truck right next to the Porsche. I kept my eyes eighty percent of the time on

the thighs below me and to my left. I had to devote twenty percent of my

attention to the road ahead of me. I didn't want to kill someone over an awesome

set of thighs that I wasn't even able to see all of.

As I drove along, I noticed something was moving under the skirt of the woman

driving the Porsche. Something alive was under her skirt all the way up near her

crotch. The thought of a little white mouse nestling against its owners soft

white thighs came to my mind, looking for warmth and comfort. What kind of woman

would let a mouse crawl around her crotch. I instantly felt repulsed. I looked

away. Thank god I did.

The traffic in my lane had stopped again. I planted my right foot on the brake

pedal, simultaneously hitting the clutch with my left. My thirty five thousand

pound truck came to a screeching halt inches away from the white plastic bumper

of the Subaru in front of me. Its owners eyes from the side mirror looked like

those of a rabbit caught in the talons of a street wise cat. I took a deep

breath and looked to my left. To my surprise, there sat the Porsche with its

perfect thighs on the gray bucket seat.

This time what I saw made me gasp. The skirt of the driver was pulled all the

way up. She had on white panties. Her dark pubes showed through them in a furry

mound above her milky white thighs. That wasn't what I gasped over. Sticking out

of her squeezed together thighs was the kicking lower half of a person.

It was the kicking lower half of a tiny person. A tiny man who was probably no

bigger than five or six inches. His body was buried head first up to his waist

between the luscious thighs of his apparent captor. I didn't know if my lane was

moving or not. I couldn't take my eyes off what I was witnessing. If my lane

moved, some nasty impatient asshole would surely beep at me to get moving. In

reality, the whole line of cars and trucks behind would have to lay on their

horns to break the spell my eyes were under.

I watched as driver owner of the Porsche whacked her tiny prisoner on the bottom

with the long red fingernail of her middle finger. The woman's thumb helped the

middle finger built up enough potential energy to pummel the tiny man's bottom.

His efforts didn't subside as her gorgeous finger turned his bottom into a

bright shade of red.

My jaw was hanging somewhere near my beer belly when the driver of the Porsche

obviously got fed up with her un-co-operating prisoner. She grabbed him by his

kicking feet with a whole hand full of shiny red nails and pulled him out from

her thighs. Her car then jumped forward. Her lane was moving again.

Multiple horns brought me back to reality. They came from behind my truck. There

was a five car length gap between my steel bumper and the plastic one ahead of

me. I popped the clutch and floored it. I wanted to catch the Porsche that was

now twenty feet ahead of me. I had to see if what I just saw, or imagined I saw,

was real.

I was catching up to the Porsche, shifting through the stiff gears. I had the

pedal to the medal, tentatively. I knew traffic would stop again at any moment.

I needed to catch the Porsche one more time. I was almost up to its shiny bumper

when something flew out the passenger window and hit the ground just ahead of

me. Instinctively I knew what it was. I took my foot off the accelerator but it

was too late.

When a person runs over a squirrel in a small car, the driver feels and hears an

obvious thump (or sometimes a thump thump if he's lucky enough to have front and

back wheels hit) as the tire deflects up and down in its bone crushing journey.

If that same car hits something as small as a mouse, or a six inch tall person,

The driver feels it, but to a much smaller degree.

Now let's say a ten wheel dump truck hits that same mouse, or six inch tall

person. The driver of the truck doesn't actually feel the suspension bounce. The

wheel never even misses a beat. He doesn't hear a thump or even a sound of any

kind other than the constant drone of rubber on blacktop. He does, however, feel

something in his stomach. He feels a sickness that makes him want to pull over

and spill his guts. He feels a desire to crawl into the nearby bushes and just

die. He knows he has just run over another living creature. That's exactly how I

felt. I knew I just squashed a tiny man.

This time I wanted to catch that red Porsche for a different reason. This time I

was mad. I felt anger boiling inside me. What right did this person, whoever she

was, have to lay the guilt of another man's life on me, no matter how small he

was. I was determined. The front of my truck was inches from that pesky little

Subaru that somehow was in my way again. I wanted to run it the fuck over and

then flatten the Porsche and its screwy driver next to it. I didn't care if I

lost my commercial driver's license. I wanted revenge.

When I pulled up next to the Porsche and pulled my eyes away from the license

plate in front of me and glanced to my left, I felt myself deflate. The wind

that had brought me even with the Porsche left my sails quickly. It seems our

Porsche driver had a sun roof. It seems she opened it while I was staring down

the bumper of the Subaru. It seems when our eyes met, through that opening in

the roof of her car, that she was just as angry as I was.

I had never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. She had long raven black

hair that whipped out behind her like a flag in the wind. She had high cheek

bones and thick lush lips, painted bright red, that were pressed into a scowl.

Her long forehead, not accustomed to being uncovered by the thick flowing mane

of hair, was wrinkled with anger. Her expression softened as her lips parted and

she yelled something in my general direction.

I drive for a living. The last thing I need when I'm sitting in traffic is some

loudmouth bitch giving me shit. Even though I couldn't hear what she said, I

yelled back. "Stick it up your ass lady."

She then gave me the finger with that same long nailed middle finger she spanked

the tiny man with. In my anger, I had briefly forgotten about the tiny man. I

looked forward at the car ahead of me. Then a thought hit me that made its way

past my stomach all the way to my balls. If this woman had a tiny man in her

possession, maybe I shouldn't be messing with her. She could be a witch or a

sorceress. With her raven hair and deep dark eyes, she looked like a sorceress.

I decided I was not going to look back into the Porsche.

Both lanes began to move again. My lane moved faster and I inched ahead of the

shiny red Porsche, whose color matched that of both the lips and the fingernails

of its driver. Somehow, traffic was moving again. In seconds I was three car

lengths ahead of the Porsche and I was just about to my exit. In my side mirror,

the reflection of the Porsche moved into my lane three or four cars back. I

became slightly alarmed.

I had shifted up to forth gear, which in this traffic was a miracle in itself. I

moved into the exit ramp and downshifted one gear. The four cars behind me

followed down the ramp. The red Porsche was the last in line. "Just a

coincidence", I said out loud. Or was it?

After two miles and a right hand turn, The Porsche was still behind me two cars

back. I saw the driver's long dark mane blowing behind her. My truck yard was

just up ahead. If the Porsche followed me inside, I figured I might wet myself.

But as I turned into the lot, the Porsche flew by. I wasn't able to see the

mystery woman's face when she passed by. I let out a sigh of relief and parked

my truck.

As I climbed into the comfort of my pick-up, I figured I must have let my

imagination get the best of me. I couldn't have really seen a tiny man. There is

simply no such thing. As I put the key into the ignition I concluded that I did

indeed imagine the whole thing. It's been a long week, with far too many hours

behind the big round steering wheel. My tired eyes were simply playing tricks on

me. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If I had imagined what I saw,

then why was I still feeling like I had seen a ghost?

I fired up my truck's V8 and headed out of the lot, listening proudly to the

sound of gas being guzzled by its powerful two hundred horses. I planned on

going straight home after parking my rig, but as I drove past Pappy's Place I

couldn't help but pull into the parking lot.

Pappy's Place was one of the many small watering holes in this part of the city.

Actually, it was a couple of miles outside the city, which suited me just fine.

Being in the city all day long was bad enough. Hanging out inside its limits, if

I didn't have to, was unthinkable. Pappy's Place was my favorite place to suck

down a few cold ones.

Pappy was an older well liked fellow who ran his bar for longer than I can

remember. He saw me come in and immediately grabbed a icy mug. As I sat down,

Pappy slid an ice cold draught in front of me. "How ya doing there big rig?" he

asked me. That's what most of my friends call me. I'm six foot two and two

hundred thirty pounds. A good bit of it is fat.

"I'm not sure", I answered as I looked around the bar to see if anyone was in

earshot. "I am sure I need this beer."

"What's wrong?" Pappy asked in his raspy but warm voice. "You look a little

spooked".

"I am", I said. Then I went on to tell him what I thought had happened. When I

was finished telling my tale. I looked from my empty beer mug into Pappy's

weathered eyes. "Well what do you think?" I asked him.

Pappy put his bony fingers on his grizzly chin. I wondered just how many times

his old wrinkled hand pulled down the tap. He was holding his chin the same way

he grabbed the tap. After forty or so years of serving brewskies, so I had been

told, his hand probably grabbed everything it touched like it was grabbing a

tap. "I think you need a fill up", he answered

I pushed my mug toward him and he grabbed it with his fingers in that same tap

clenching way. "Yeah, you're right", I said.

"How about a sandwich?" he asked. I immediately felt hungry. Pappy's roast beef

sandwiches were the best around.

"Sure", I answered enthusiastically. I hadn't had much lunch. Just a crummy PB&J

and a bag of chips. "I'll have two. So what about my story?"

Pappy smiled, and walked over to his dinner setup. "Probably just your

imagination." He cut eight strips of tender looking roast beef and put the

slices on two soft rolls. He added two pieces of provolone to each and drenched

them with molten hot gravy. I watched the cheese melt into the hot gravy. My

salivary glands were aroused. "Probably just your imagination", he repeated. "At

least I hope it was." He put the plate in front of me. The juicy sandwiches

looked almost as appetizing as the thighs of the dark haired woman, but smelled

better. My nose joined my salivary glands.

"What do you mean", I asked then bit into the first hot roast beef sandwich,

fitting a quarter of it into my mouth. My taste buds joined the party.

"I've been serving people since long before you were born, Sonny, maybe before

your father was born, bless his soul, a good man he was, and I've heard many

many stories - some strange some not so strange. About every eight years or so,

make it closer to ten. I get stories about a witch, a raven beauty, who shrinks

men, uses them and throws them away when she tires of them. The last man who

told me of such an encounter told me the year the Reds swept the A's in the

series. I'm a diehard RedSox lover. I remember things in baseball terms. 1990 it

was. I heard three such stories that year."

I looked at my plate and realized I must have been hungry. My first sandwich was

history and my second was half gone. My appetite was going quickly. I finished

my second beer and listened to Poppy finish. The door opened and closed. A

couple entered and sat at the bar across from me.

"Funny thing is", Pappy finished. "All three stories were just like yours." He

then turned to serve his other customers. I pulled fifteen bucks out of my

pocket and put it next to my plate holding a half eaten sandwich. My appetite

wasn't just gone. I felt like I was going to puke. I needed some air.

"See you next week", I said over my shoulder as I exited the bar. I heard Pappy

tell me to have a nice weekend before the door swung shut behind me. Although

the sun was making its final dive toward the western horizon, it was still quite

bright out compared to the inside of Pappy's Place. My eyes took a few moments

to adjust as I hurried toward my Dodge. I wanted to go home.

As I approached my driver side door, something happened that sucked every ounce

of air from my lungs. The two sixteen ounce beers that left me feeling just

slightly woozy instantly vanished from my blood stream. A dark haired woman

stepped out from the other side of my truck and quickly cut me off. It was the

driver of the porsche.

I froze. My throat constricted. I couldn't breath. She held up her right hand.

It was tightened into a fist, her long red nails buried into her palms. I was

overcome with fear. I couldn't move. It felt like some powerful force had me by

the throat. I wished I had used the men's room before I left as I felt wet

warmth work its way down my legs.

"Stick it up my ass", was all she said. She then smiled a wicked smile, like she

had me and I had no chance of escape. She relaxed her fist, opening up her hand

slightly. I gasped in a breath. She closed her fist again, trapping the air

molecules inside my lungs. I was mesmerized by her closed fist. I wasn't able to

take my eyes off it. I didn't see her other hand rise and open in front of me

until it was too late. Her left also hand closed into a fist as I slowly passed

out.

I awoke. I felt dizzy, like the beers I had at Pappy's re-entered my system. The

front part of my body was cold, freezing cold. My back, along with most of my

arms and the back of my legs and head, was alive with warmth. After a few

seconds of lying with my eyes sealed shut, I realized I was lying on something

warm and alive. In fact it was moving ever so slightly under me. I slowly broke

the seal entrapping my eyes and forced them to focus. What I saw made me quickly

close them and re-enter the dream I must be in.

The warmth I was lying on moved, encasing more of my body in itself. I forced my

eyes open again. My first attempt at placing my surroundings failed. Nothing in

my memory surfaced. I blinked and tried again. Something quite large was moving

above me. Something equally as overwhelming was moving below me. I blinked

again.

I saw mountains, horizontal mountains, red horizontal mountains sticking out

above me. The color sparked a memory. I looked past the mountains. I saw a wave

of shiny black hair encompassing an oval of white. The white oval transformed

into more of a circle as two dark orbs appeared. Under them I saw more red. I

saw what looked like a set of giant red lips. Above it were the two nostril

holes of a nose. I felt movement below me and it hit me. Adrenaline took the

place of blood as I realized where I was and how bad my predicament was. I was

lying on the thighs of the driver of the porsche. I was no longer six foot two.

I was about the length of her thighs, lying between those same thighs with the

back of my head in her crotch, staring at her face from below, and under her

control.

My fight or flight instinct took over. I couldn't flee so I fought. I bucked and

twisted and tried to sit up, but despite my efforts I wasn't able to free myself

from the thighs that held me.

"You had better calm down, little fellow", the dark haired women said down to

me, her evil smile looming above. "You don't want to make me mad."

That only made me struggle more. No woman, no matter how big she was, was going

to tell this tough guy what to do. That is until she got physical. She loaded

her middle fingernail against her thumb and held it over me. It didn't scare me.

I was a marine. I could take pain. At least I thought I could. The first whack

landed across my chest. The nail of her middle finger knocked the wind and the

life right out of me. It also left a red mark that covered most of my chest.

Somehow I kept fighting. Her next blow was across my face. It left me senseless.

I fought to stay in control. My struggles slowed, but as my senses returned, so

did my anger.

"You just don't get the hint, do you little man? You will give in." She

emphasized the "will". She then let me have one right where it hurts the most.

She nailed me right in the crotch and she didn't miss the mark. I would have

folded in half if her thighs weren't holding me straight. My stomach and throat

met. I mean they met up close for the first time in my life. I had been hit in

the balls before, but nothing compared to the blow my family jewels just

received. Needless to say my struggles ended abruptly.

The dark haired woman's right hand came off the steering wheel and quickly

descended upon me. It wrapped its warm fingers around my chest and lifted my

lifeless body up to the most gorgeous giant face any man had ever seen. I was

sure of this. Although my eyes were fixed on hers, my side vision told me that

we were still in Pappy's parking lot. She hadn't begun to drive yet. My amazed

eyes moved from her deep dark eyes to her warm sensuous red lips as she began to

speak.

"Now that I have your attention, my little friend", she whispered to me. "I'd

like to give you some advice." I looked beyond her mesmerizing lips, past her

pearly white teeth, and into a dark cavern as she spoke. Inside that cavern

lived the troll under the bridge, the werewolf in the closet, the vampire under

the bed waiting for me to go to sleep. Behind those luscious lips that I

envisioned my face buried inside, and those sharp mancrushing teeth, that I

hoped to avoid, was the devil himself, or herself, waiting for his chance to

chew me up and steal my soul. My supply of adrenaline was slowly rebuilding.

"But first let me introduce myself. My name is Cassandra. My friends, the ones I

haven't killed, call me Cassie."

"My first bit of advise for you", Cassie continued, "is don't piss off a witch."

I opened my mouth to say that I really didn't do anything but look at her

(thighs), but she quickly stuck the pinky finger of her other hand into my

mouth. I gagged as her nail ticked the back of my throat. "I'll do the talking",

she said sternly. "I have to deliver this car to the other end of the state and

bring back another. Even witches need money. That's a twelve hour drive and

you're going to be my companion. In other words, the drive will take all night

and you are going to help me spend the time. How we spend it is entirely up to

you. What do you say?" she asked me.

I couldn't answer. Cassie still had her finger in my mouth. Tears were streaming

down my face, from the tickling of my uvula, before she slowly began to slide

her finger out of my mouth. I tried to spit the end of her long smooth nail out

through my over stretched lips, but she felt it and slowed her finger to a

crawl, bringing my agony and my rebuilding anger to a head. "Well, little tough

guy", she repeated. "What do you say?"

There were many different things I might have said. "I'll do whatever you want"

was one of them. "I'm sorry for offending you", was another. Sucking up would

sure make the next twelve hours or so more enjoyable, or less unbearable, but

that would have been too easy. The only thing my mouth could come up with was,

"FUCK YOU, YOU UGLY OLD WHORE."

It didn't take another middle fingernail across the face to realize that was a

mistake. In fact, I knew I was in trouble the moment my lips closed. The

question was, what made me say such a stupid thing. As I swam in a sea of

semi-consciousness from the blow across my face, I figured out why I was so

obstinate. The level of alcohol in my blood stream before I was shrunk was

probably close to .05, not even close to the legal limit for a person driving a

car. It was almost double the legal limit for someone driving a truck, but my

truck was parked in the lot. When I shrank, the alcohol didn't shrink with my

body. I should have been instantly inebriated, but the amount of adrenaline my

body produced when I saw Cassie in the parking lot counteracted the alcohol. I

didn't feel drunk but the beer muscles remained. I was too drunk to know I was

beaten. Of course, by the time this revelation was revealed to me, it was too

late. I was on my way down.

Eight more blocks

Part II

by willie

This time Cassie didn't put me between her thighs. What she did this time was

intended to break my will for good. She laid me face down on the seat next to

her. I hoped she'd lift her hand off me so I could attempt a getaway, but I

wasn't surprised in the least when she didn't. Instead she lifted her right

thigh enough to slip my feet and calves under it. She then grabbed my head

between her thumb and forefinger and wrapped my unlimber body backward around

her thigh. This time the pain attacked my back. She bent me backward to where a

man's body was not meant to go. I tried to be tough but I yelled in pain anyway.

I felt her warm right thigh against my butt then my back then the back of my

head. She guided my arms up over my head and between her two thighs. My face and

head were between her thighs also. I wasn't able to talk or breath, although I

tried to scream. Cassie laughed at my muffled attempt.

"So now what have you to say to me?", she asked loosening her powerful thigh

muscles enough to expose my mouth and ears.

"Please let me up", I screamed. "I'm sorry. I'm soommph." Cassie cut me off in

mid sentence with her thighs.

"You'll be more than sorry", she said. She then gave me another whack on my

balls. The pain exploded in all directions, overpowering the ache in my back

neck and shoulders. A combination of half digested roast beef sandwich and warm

beer shot up my esophagus but had nowhere to go. I quickly swallowed the burning

mixture before it went down my windpipe and choked me to death. The fire burning

in my throat added to my level of discomfort.

Cassie let me inhale one breath and exhale one scream before she clamped tight

again. My lungs were beginning to burn also. I hoped Cassie knew that I needed

to breathe more than once.

I felt the leg I was wrapped around move from the brake pedal to the

accelerator, then for the first time since I found myself in this predicament, I

felt movement. We were on our way. Cassie left me alone for about ten minutes

while she maneuvered her Porsche over the side roads leading to the highway. I

guessed it was ten minutes. Time moves differently when one is in agony. She

allowed me to breathe twice in that time period. I hoped that if I stayed calm

and Cassie allowed me to breathe every three or four minutes, I just might not

be smothered to death.

Once Cassie was on the highway and had her car in high gear, her right hand was

free to play with or torture the exposed front of my body. I don't know if my

back was getting numb or if it was stretching to conform to the position it was

in, or maybe I was too preoccupied with breathing, but I wasn't noticing the

pain as much. That is, until she touched my stomach.

I was trying to relax and remain as calm as humanly possible when I felt the tip

of a cold smooth fingernail land on my fat stomach and slide along it. A tingle

instantly shot up my spine tightening up my back muscles and sending a bolt of

pain along with it. I was sure that if I was ever released by the crazy witch

that had me wrapped around her right thigh, I'd be stuck in this position for

the rest of my life.

The round nail tip was joined by another, then by two more. They moved about in

gentle swirling motions around and across my nipples, playing a symphony on my

chest, all the while sending convulsions throughout my body. One, probably the

one at the end of the pinky finger, played alarmingly close to my genitals

tickling its way down one leg and up the other. The tip of Cassie's nail was as

wide as my thigh and I feared it could easily separate me from my manhood if it

chose to take a path along the inside of my legs.

Time passed. Cassie's relentless fingernail assault on my stretched frame

continued. My spine slowly conformed to the position I was in. The pain I had

experienced when I was first put into this precarious position had turned to

pleasure. At some point Cassie freed my mouth so I could breath at will. My eyes

were still pressed into her left thigh so I still could see nothing. My ears

still were unable to hear any external sounds.

The gentle hum of the engine, as it raced along at cruising speed, sent a deep

rumble through the accelerator and up Cassie's leg where it entered my mind

through my deprived ears. I slowly drifted into another realm of consciousness.

I still felt Cassie's nails moving over my exposed body, but the feeling seemed

somehow far away, removed from my body. I felt like my soul had left my body,

without severing the links to it, and was moving toward a place where there was

no pain or pressure from ordinary life, a place where one didn't have to wake up

and go to work, a place where there were no bills, where food was free, where

pleasure was constant. I was having my first out of body experience when I felt

an extremely severe sensation travel up the cosmic link, that separated me from

my body, and force its way into my outflowing brain.

All at once I felt vertigo seize me. I fell at an alarming rate, not from the

sky, but from some other dimension. I landed hard. My mind was overflowing with

inputs from the various parts of my body. My spine was once again screaming. The

muscles around it were in spasm. My lungs moved in triple time. My heart raced

quicker than the engine whose gentle vibration moments ago had helped me

approach nirvana. Through it all, Cassie's fingertips played Tchaikovski on my

chest and legs. For a brief second I wondered what caused the avalanche of

emotions. Then it happened again. Cassie's pinky nail moved over my balls and up

the underside of my penis.

I was instantly encased in goosebumps. I had felt the presence of my other brain

earlier, the one inside my manhood that did much of my thinking, trying to put

its two cents in, but the intensity of the neural activity coming from the

sensors in my chest drowned it out. Now it wanted to be heard.

Not only was it heard, it took control of my whole body. The brain in my head

turned to putty. It was no longer in control. It was. though, still in charge of

receiving the various messages from the rest of my body. With each message, my

big brain transformed more and more into mush. Another severe sensation from my

groin shot up my spinal chord as Cassie did it again. I felt a volcano begin to

smoke. My number one brain, although useless, knew an eruption would not be such

a good idea. My number one brain knew where it was, along with the rest of my

body. It knew I was wrapped around the thigh of a lunatic woman who appeared to

be, and probably was, a witch. She did indeed have the power to shrink me. She

also did not want me shooting myself all over her and her car. My number one

brain knew all this but could do nothing to stop it.

Another strong feeling of lust shot into my cerebral cortex, followed by news

from every muscle in my body saying the same thing. They were convulsing in

unison. The combined energy of their actions aimed toward my groin. One more

touch from Cassie onto my other brain and it was going to be over.

It took a couple of seconds that seemed close to an hour, but the inevitable

happened. Cassie slowly worked the smooth round nail of her pinky finger over my

balls and up my steaming volcano again. What did she think would happen? She

must have known that no man, no matter what position he was in, could withstand

such treatment. I erupted violently, over and over again, sending molten hot

white lava all over Cassie and her car seat. I was on my seventh spurt when my

ecstasy turned to agony.

Pain. My other brain was out cold and the one in my head had control again, not

that it wanted it. More pain, severe pain on my sensitive still spurting penis.

Cassie was angry. She hit my spent, now tiny, manhood with the nail of her

middle finger repeatedly. She loosened up enough to allow me to hear.

"You little shit", she screamed as she nailed me again. "I didn't give you

permission to do that." She spread her legs further releasing my arms. My body

whipped forward, over her thigh, and toward the seat I moments ago came all

over. My spine and back muscles yelled out in new found pain as my face

catapulted into the hard plastic center console between the bucket seats. My

nose felt like it was mashed into my face. Cassie then wrapped her long fingers

around me, lifted me up and threw me hard into the other seat. I landed face

first on the hard leather and my nose yelled out again. I tasted blood. "I ought

to make you lick that up, you little shit", Cassie screamed at me as I lifted

myself up onto my hands and knees. I didn't stay in that position long.

"Where do you think you are going, shithead", I heard just before something huge

hit my back forcing my chest and face back into the car seat. I was instantly

winded. I tried to gasp for air but Cassie slapped her hand on me again. I felt

her hand lift off me only to feel its force for the third time. This time she

left her palm on my burning back, all the while grinding my face into the hard

leather with her fingertips. After a minute or two or five she lifted her hand

off me. I didn't move. I waited, through the pain, for her to slap my beaten

body again, but it didn't happen right away.

I always knew there was a letdown after an orgasm, an anticlimax so to speak.

What I just experienced redefined it. I had descended from heaven to hell at a

speed Captain Picard would have envied. I lied still, except for my heaving

chest moving up and down in an attempt to refill my empty lungs with air. I was

afraid to move. I prayed Cassie's anger would subside.

Her anger did subside, but not until she gave me one final whack, this time with

her closed fist and to the back of my head. I saw stars. I even think I blacked

out, but only for a moment. "Now don't do that again", she said in a much calmer

tone. I could tell she had calmed down some, but I was still too afraid to move.

After a few minutes, I felt Cassie's warm hand again. This time she gently laid

her right palm on my back. At first I flinched, but when I felt its gentle

nature I reluctantly relaxed. The warmth from her palm rekindled the burning on

my back, but I didn't mind. Her hands, when she was using them nicely, were

instruments of pleasure. I had to remember to control my sex drive.

I was thinking of fat old men to help keep my returning hard-on in check when

Cassie's fingers' led by her long tickling nails, worked their way under my

right side. Her thumb slid over my back and under my left side. She squeezed

softly and lifted me up to her face. I was reacquainted with her beauty. She had

indeed the most perfect face I had ever laid eyes on at any size. I saw her

drawn together lips part slightly as the moist tip of her tongue emerged and

made a quick pass, leaving her painted lips a shiny red. Her tongue disappeared,

hiding behind her white teeth that even in the dark of night glistened,

reflecting the dashboard light. She quietly spoke to me.

"Now we can't have you doing that all night. Now can we?" Cassie spoke,

directing her attention from me to the road ahead and back to me again. I shook

my head. My legs dangled. My manhood saluted. "I could solve the problem by

removing it." she took her left hand off the wheel and pinched my problem

between forefinger and thumbnails that all of a sudden felt sharp as a steak

knife. I gulped and shook my head harder.

"You're right", she continued. "That would make more mess." Cassie closed her

lips for about fifteen seconds as she guided the car around a long slow bend.

"I'll just have to put you where you will behave."

Now what, I thought. I didn't have to wait long to find out. Cassie quickly

lowered me down and dropped me on my back on top of the crack that separated her

thighs. I felt another let down when her soft palm let me go. I felt security in

here hand. She moved her legs apart and began pushing me down in between her

thighs with her long nails. I felt her super warm thighs take me. I smelled her

smell. I felt my manhood take volcano form again. I started thinking of fat old

men. It wasn't working.

Cassie's fingertips pushed me all the way down to the leather. Her thighs would

have folded over me, entrapping me in flesh if her fingers weren't still between

them. I hoped they would stay where they were. They allowed me to breathe, and I

wanted to breath, even though each breath brought in the strong smell of

Cassie's womanhood. Unfortunately, Cassie's right hand did leave me.

Before pulling away and leaving me lonely, Cassie's hand slid me completely

under her right thigh. The weight of the leg that eventually ended at the

accelerator weighed tons. Its softness, along with the somewhat yielding

leather, kept me from crushing. I did have one other problem though. I couldn't

breathe.

Cassie remedied that problem by sliding her hand under her thigh until her nails

dug into my arm and neck allowing a passageway for air to sneak its way to my

lungs. She did this religiously every minute for the first twenty breaths. After

that, the interval increased. My lungs burned. After I got a breath, they still

burned. Cassie was not giving me enough air to breath. I guess she was

forgetting about me. Out of sight, out of mind. Finally, it didn't matter. The

pain in my lungs, just like the rest of the pain I had experienced during this

long night, left as quickly as it came. I don't know if it was unconsciousness

from lack of air or sleep from the murmur of the V8, but I slowly drifted off to

that other reality, where a different sort of life takes place. Life happens,

but in the end, none of it really matters. At the time it matters. At the time

it can be life or death. At the time the cards can be stacked against you. You

can run yet get nowhere. Your monstrous foe will gain on you no matter how hard

your legs pump. But at the last second, when you know you're finished, when your

soul is about to be consumed by the devil never to die but to serve him until

eternity, that's when you wake up with a start, turn on the light and realize

none of it really happened. It was just a dream.

I had a dream. In it I was captured by a witch, shrunk, and wrapped backward

around the thigh of the leg she was driving with. She brought my exposed manhood

to an orgasm then beat me with her hand. She deposited me, with that same hand,

under the same thigh until I passed out. She then held my lifeless body out the

window into the cold night air with her other, yet equally wonderful hand, to

revive me. That's where I came to.

Part of me was freezing, my face and lower legs. Part of me was warm. Actually,

the rest of me was warm. I slowly opened my eyes. The dark night flew by me.

Cold wind froze its way across my head, standing my short hair on end. Looking

down, which was the direction my face was pointing, I saw a blur of pavement. I

realized where I was when I turned my head to the left and saw Cassie, through

tearing eyes, sitting behind the steering wheel with her left arm out the

window. I followed her left arm over a woman's version of a biceps muscle, to

the fold adjacent to the elbow. I followed the arm over the forearm and wrist to

the closed fist where I found myself. Cassie was holding me precariously out the

window of a moving vehicle doing better the sixty miles on hour.

I watched in fear as she looked over at me. She obviously felt my panic in her

hand. "Awake?", she asked out the window. She then loosened her grip, holding me

only with her fingertips. I no longer felt the security of her palm on my back

or the meat of her fingers wrapped around me. My fear turned to terror. My arms

flailed behind me trying to grab at Cassie's fingers, but all I got was empty

air.

We drove through a warm pocket of air. Despite what was going through my mind,

the warm air felt good. I knew, however from my motorcycle days, that nighttime

held many more cold pockets than warm ones. I knew this warm pocket wouldn't

last long. It ended abruptly.

Again, I was shivering. Cassie sensed it and wrapped her fingers around me

again. In no time they were warm again. Warm and comfortable, but something was

different. Her hand was much larger than it had been earlier, or I was much

smaller. Only my head stuck out of her closed fist with her massive thumb

resting on my head. I tried to move my legs but only my feet could move. Cassie

had shrunk me again. This time I was a little longer than her fist.

"Having fun yet?", Cassie yelled out to me. She was laughing, obviously enjoying

herself. She turned her hand over and opened her hand so I was lying face up on

her palm. I felt freezing air blow over the front of my body. I felt my manhood

shrivel up. I felt my balls fight there way back inside the hole they came out

of when I was still in the womb. I screamed.

"Come on", Cassie yelled out the window to me. "Lighten up." She was obviously

enjoying my terror. She flipped me up into the air a couple of inches her scale,

a couple of feet my scale. Up I went. Back down I came. Thank God I landed in

Cassie's hand. She threw me up in the air again, this time further. I felt the

wind slow my forward momentum. As I started back down, I was sure I'd miss

Cassie's outstretched hand and land critically on the roadway, but Cassie caught

me again.

Once more, Cassie sent me flying, this time about ten of my feet into the cool

summer night. She threw my so high that as I reached my peak and began my

descent, my body rolled over and I was facing down. When I looked where I was

heading, I didn't see Cassie's hand. It had moved forward. I quickly looked

around. My arms began to make little circles in panic mode. I was falling

quickly. I knew I was toast. Then all of a sudden Cassie's beautiful hand shot

under me and her long fingers curled around me.

This time, I landed face down. I quickly wrapped my arms and legs around

Cassie's fingers and squeezed tight. She opened her hand so if I wasn't holding

on for dear life, I'd fall to the pavement. I wasn't planning on letting go.

That is until she started shaking her hand up and down rapidly. She was trying

to shake me loose. I didn't know what kind of game Cassie was playing, but it

sure was one sided.

I held on for all I was worth, but I was loosing the battle. First one leg let

go then the other. My left arm was next to go. My right was right behind it.

Cassie made one final downward gesture causing me to loose my last purchase, but

she didn't let me fall. She curled her fingers into a fist, catching my head

between her forefinger and middle finger. My head was tightly clamped inside her

fist. My body dangled in the wind.

Cassie then proceeded to shake the living daylights out of my swinging body. My

neck, already sore from being wrapped around her thigh backwards, felt like it

was going to snap. She did this brutally to me for miles before she opened her

fist and I found myself once again flying upward.

I don't think I was screaming. I was beyond screaming. I watched my body, as a

third party, soar through the air. I watched myself twirl upward, come to a

vertical stop, and head downward. I waited for the inevitable. I was sure this

time I'd hit the road, but that's not what happened. The car came into view

below me. I was headed for the open sunroof. Inside the open sunroof was the

outstretched hand that owned me. I fell right into that hand and once again I

was safe.

Cassie held me up to her face. She had a look of intense pleasure on her face. I

was borderline catatonic. "How fun was that?", she asked smiling. When I didn't

answer, her smile faded. "Boy do you need to lighten up. "Why are you little

guys always so uptight? Why can't you just trust me and enjoy yourself? If you

did, I might just spare you." I tried to answer, but my mouth just didn't seem

to want to open. "All right", she finished. "Have it your way. We still have a

long way to go and I plan on enjoying myself."

Cassie then grabbed me once again by my head with her thumb and forefinger

again. She whacked my resurgent hard-on, gently this time, causing it to recede.

She then lowered me to her crotch. She shoved me between her thighs again under

her skirt with my face against her white panties. Her aroma was very strong and

I felt myself becoming uncontrollably aroused. I was able to breathe, but for

the first time tonight, I didn't want to. With each breath I took, I was getting

myself further and further into immanent trouble.

Cassie took care of the problem for me. With the slightest muscle contraction,

one so minor that she probably didn't even know she was doing it, she had my

head buried between her thighs with my face, unable to breathe, pressed into her

panties. I felt her dark rough pubes, seeming alive, wrapping around my face

right through the soft cotton, like the hair of the Medusa, trying to turn me to

stone. She kept me like this for a long while, not just until my erection died,

but until my whole body almost died.

Before I passed out, Cassie released me so I was able to catch my breath. By the

time my blood stream was satisfied, I had so much of her womanly smell in my

lungs that I was hard again. Once again, Cassie helped out. Five minutes later,

when I was once again on the verge of darkness, my face was released so the

process could renew itself. Renew itself it did, over and over and over again

through a good part of the night.

Casie was obviously enjoying herself. During the long minutes I had waiting for

Cassie to let me breathe again and smell her sweet smell, I noticed that she was

moving around in her seat more and more as the long night went by. Perhaps it

was just my imagination, but I also noticed, during my short gasps for air, that

her sweet smell was getting stronger. I even felt wetness against my body,

soaking through the fabric of her underwear. I became less worried about my next

breath and more concerned with Cassie's growing arousal. I was afraid where I

might end up. I was the perfect size.

I found out soon enough what my future was. It wasn't long after I realized

Cassie was getting turned on that I felt her fingers again. No they didn't reach

down to pull me out of her thighs and hang me out the window. They reached down

to push me further into the thin wet cotton that barely covered the promise land

I was all ready tasting.

Cassie's fingers were on my back moving in circular motions, stretching her

panties inward with my body. Her pussy lips grabbed me and tried to suck me

right through the material. My time for breathing was over. I was about to die

from asphyxiation, as well as being crushed, as a love toy.

I felt Cassie's fingers move me to the side. At the same time, her panties moved

the other direction. All of a sudden I had Cassie's pussy lips wrapped around

me. The wetness turned to a flood of passion. At that moment, there was no where

else I wanted to be. I felt Cassie's fingers on my back, this time from outside

the wet warm cotton forcing me to pleasure her clit. I felt that clit, soft and

yet hard, on my face. My mouth stretched open as I tried to bite into it, to

swallow it whole and make it part of me as her vagina was slowly making me part

of her.

Eight more blocks

part III

by willie

My body was now completely inside her. My mouth moved away from her clit. Her

pussy lips closed around my head. I saw the last bit of filtered dashboard light

disappear through the cotton as Cassie's pussy swallowed me whole. It didn't

matter. Nothing did. I was where I belonged. I came like I never did before, not

like a volcano but like a solar flair. At the same time, Cassie came. Her

vaginal walls thundered around me. I was squeezed and twisted beyond

comprehension. My arms and legs were pulled off my body. My chest was crushed. I

no longer had to fight for breath. My lungs weren't there any more.

My mind staid in tact as my tiny body was destroyed. Nothing was left but my

hard head with my consciousness in it. Although the rest of my body was gone, I

still felt it's nerve endings sending communications. I felt myself being slowly

dissolved by Cassie's fluids as she screamed her way through multiple orgasms.

As her vagina absorbed me, I felt her orgasms. They mixed with mine. Although my

body was long gone, my mind was still in a knowing state of euphoria. I still

had the power to feel. I felt with all I was made of. My mental energy mixed

with Cassie's as the last of my body was dissolved. We felt the last of her

orgasms together. I was now not only owned by Cassie. I was part of her.

As Cassie was dropping down from her final climax and getting herself back

together, I was able to think about the predicament I was now in. Although we

now shared everything, part of me was still detached. We were one, but then

again we weren't. We were supposed to be. I felt my presence in an alien body. I

had a severe case of mixed feelings, as well as a case of mixed identities. Part

of my existence wanted to become part of Cassie. It wanted to flow through her

boobs and into her nipples. It wanted to be her lips and her ears and her eyes.

It desperately wanted to flow through her womanhood.

There was just one problem. The other part of my existence knew it wasn't right.

No matter how wonderful it felt, it was wrong. My mind was somehow still in

tact. What once was the left side of my brain, the thinking half, won out over

what was the right side of my brain, the artistic half. I decided I had to fight

my way back. Although pleasurable, this was not where I belonged. Cassie may

have broken my will and stole my body, but she was not going to have my soul.

Having no body left, I didn't know if getting back to my own self was possible,

but I intended on trying.

I decided I'd try making my existence inside Cassie less desirable to Cassie. I

was going to try to raise hell and let her know I didn't want to be here. Since

I could sense her emotions, I was sure she could sense mine. I figured the best

place to be to make trouble was inside her head, so I thought about going there

and sure enough, that's where I went.

When I first got inside Cassie's brain, I was overwhelmed with the amount of

activity going on around me. Thoughts whipped by me. Instructions went out.

Responses came in. Just the level of Cassie's emotions were enough to make me

feel dizzy. The emotion I felt the most was a kind of satisfaction. It was a

sexual satisfaction that was interlaced with happiness. It was the feeling one

gets when they just obtained something they wanted very badly. That something

was me.

My confusion turned to anger. I turned the anger into bad energy and I began

throwing it around Cassie's head. I sent a bolt into her inner ear causing

Cassie to hear a ringing sound. I sent one into her optic nerve. She cried out

loud. I sent the last one into her jaw, hoping she'd bite her tongue off, but it

never got there. I would have sent them all night if I could have.

Cassie's life force, which was infinitesimally more powerful than mine was,

quickly put a stop to it. "Two can play that game", came her voice in my head as

she sent a shot of electricity through me so powerful that it sent me flying

toward her lower extremities. I don't know if I landed in her feet or not. I

lost consciousness.

It didn't take me long after I woke up to figure out where I was. I was inside

Cassie's right ass cheek. Behind me was her gluteus maximus. In front of me was

a layer of fat. I thought about Cassie's brain again, but this time I went

nowhere. "Awake?", she asked. I sensed punishment. She was punishing me. I

wasn't strong enough to do anything about it, so I started sending out more

bolts of bad energy. They were ineffective. All they did was cause her ass to

twitch slightly.

"If you're going to do that", she said, "I have a better place for you. She

moved me. This time I was inside her vaginal walls. No, I was her vaginal walls.

I sent out a bolt and it caused me to quiver. Cassie moaned. I sent out three

more and stopped. Cassie was enjoying it too much. "Why are you stopping?", she

asked. I didn't answer. "Well if your not going to co-operate. I'll have to

punish you some more.

The next thing I knew, I was in her bowels. Cassie had encased me with feces. I

was a piece of shit. I was humiliated to the core of my very existence. Cassie

was enjoying herself immensely at my expense. She laughed out loud. I cried

inside.

Cassie's pleasure was slowly being brought down by my sorrow. She couldn't just

ignore me since I was now part of her. It was after she exchanged the Porsche,

for a BMW Boxer, and started the return trip, that she moved me out of her

colon. She was trying to cheer me up. This time she put me inside her right

forefinger. My face was her fingernail, that same fingernail that tickled me for

hours earlier when I had a body.

"Get used to it", she said out loud to her finger. She was looking at me. I saw

her face like I still had eyes. "It's not so bad." My sorrow didn't change.

"Then how about this?" Cassie lowered her finger to her crotch and shoved it

inside her. I was back inside her pussy again, as a finger this time, and Cassie

was controlling my movements. She moved me up and down, and in an out. She was

working herself back up to sexual enlightenment. If she had another orgasm, I'd

feel it too. I was not in the mood. I wanted to stay depressed. I was thinking

about sending out another bolt of negative energy when I felt myself move from

Cassie's finger into the vaginal wall that surrounded it so tightly. I was now

twitching unmercifully, contracting and releasing. Then I was the finger again,

moving in twirling motions. Then I was the vagina again. Then the finger. The

vagina, the finger, then both. I was contracting and twitching, but I was also

moving up and down and all around. The faster I moved, The harder I twitched. I

gave off wetness. I was saturated in wetness. I was jerking off in a woman's

body and she was no longer controlling me. I wasn't able to stop, as the finger

or as the vagina. I continued on for maybe hours. Cassie had had a series of

multiple orgasms earlier in the evening so it took a long time bringing her over

the edge again.

Finally Cassie's emotions exploded into a shower of skittles. She pulled her

finger out of her vagina and stuck it in her mouth so I could experience her

climax close to its epicenter. I came out the tip of her finger and onto her

tongue. I tasted her juices that I had created. I was so close to Cassie's brain

that I didn't just feel her climax, I was at the very center of it. Colorful

lights moved around me like a non-ending stream of aurora borealis. Wave after

wave of impulses shot up her spinal chord and were absorbed by the mass of cells

and nerve endings above me. It was too much for me to handle. I overloaded and

all was quiet.

This time when I woke up, I was floating inside Cassie aimlessly like a ship

lost at see. I felt sorrow again, deep sorrow, for myself. "Not again", Cassie

said with her mental voice. She sounded like she was loosing hope. "You know,

You are really starting to bum me out." She then sent me all the way down to the

floor of the car. I was her baby toe. "Stay as far away as you can if you're

going to sulk." And that's where I spent the remainder of the drive, feeling

sorry for myself as a baby toe. The droning of the engine had me fast asleep in

minutes.

I did have a dream, a very short one. I dreamt I was back in Cassie's

forefinger. I dreamt she kissed me with her perfect lips and whispered something

about a deal. I dreamt she pointed her finger out the window and shot my being

out of it. In my dream Cassie let me go.

I'm sitting at Pappy's bar eating a hot roast beef sandwich and drinking a beer.

I didn't tell Pappy about what happened a week ago. I haven't told anyone. I'm

not even sure it did happen. It was too far fetched of a story to possibly have

happened. It must have been a dream. I had awaken Saturday morning in my pickup

truck. It was still parked right here at Pappy's Place, around back where I

always park it and where Pappy wouldn't have seen it when he closed up and went

home. I had been asleep on my truck seat. My clothes weren't on me. They were in

a bundle on the floor.

I remember my ride home. There was no traffic. I was unusually wide awake. The

day had seemed so vivid. The colors around me so alive. I went home and actually

got some things done around the house. I had to. If I didn't keep busy, my mind

began working, reminding me of what happened to me the night before.

For eight hours Monday and nine hours Tuesday, I drove my ten wheeler with my

mind never once leaving the thought of Cassie and how she tormented me. I drove

around the city with my head in a cloud. I didn't look at a single set of thighs

until Wednesday afternoon. I was afraid that if I looked out the window, I'd see

Cassie in some fancy sports car smiling up at me. Well I haven't seen her since

last Friday night, if I ever even saw her at all. Now that I have four beers in

me, I'm almost sure the whole thing was a dream. The heat had gotten to me, or

Pappy gave me some bad beef. That's all.

"Well I'll see you next week, Pappy", I say as I head out the door.

Pappy gives me a wave. "Stay out of trouble", he adds. I find my pickup truck.

It is parked in the exact same spot I had it parked in last week. As I reach for

the handle, I hear a familiar woman's voice behind me.

"Do you remember our deal?", the sexy voice asks.

I freeze. My mind goes back to the dream I woke from last Saturday morning.

Something about a deal. Then I remember and again I wet myself. Cassie had let

me go only if I agreed to one condition. I had to agree. I had no choice. The

condition was: We'd pick up where we left off one week later. Cassie was dead

set on breaking me once and for all and stealing my soul. I screamed with a high

pitched voice and reached for the handle to my truck door. I couldn't reach it.

It was too high. My shoulders slumped and my head fell forward as I felt warm

fingers with long red nails wrap around me. Here we go again.

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Giantess Stories: EIGHT MORE BLOCKS  Part I by willie     Eight more blocks

Eight more blocks. Eight more blocks to go before I could park my dump truck, by willie by willie Part I Part I EIGHT MORE BLOCKS EIGHT MORE BLOCKS

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