Giantess Stories: GIANTESSES OF THE APOCALYPSE Part 1

 

 

 

GIANTESSES OF THE APOCALYPSE

Part 1: Winston King

By Astrogator

The band launched into the opening theme, the lights went up, and the balcony

camera zoomed back. "It's the Gordon Crawford show, starring America's favorite

nightowl, Gordon Crawford," crooned the announcer above the roar of the crowd.

"Tonight's guests are Buddy Wells..."

There was thunderous applause.

"Diana North..." the announcer continued. The applause rose and was joined by

wolf whistles.

"And author Winston King!" The applause dropped to a perfunctory clapping.

"And now...here's Gordon!" The camera zoomed in on the curtain across the stage

and seemed to search for the first sign of the appearance of America's favorite

 

nightowl.

Gordon Crawford suddenly pranced onto the stage from the wings and bowed

deeply as the curtain rolled away behind him to reveal the sparse set with its

familiar desk, chair, and couch. "We've got a great show tonight, folks," said

Crawford. "So don't go away. My first guest tonight is the author of the new

blockbuster bestseller, Giantesses of the Apocalypse. I just finished reading it

last night and I have to tell you I was stunned. We'll be talking to author

Winston King in just 60 seconds from now, so stay with us, you won't want to

miss this one. Take it away, professor!" The band launched into the theme and

the camera panned briefly around the wildly applauding studio audience until the

red light went out.

There was a flurry of activity on the stage as Winston King was ushered to

the chair, Crawford seated himself behind the desk and makeup artists applied

final touches to King and Crawford.

King, the author, was a man in early middle age with streaks of iron gray in

his temples. He sat easily and confidently in his gray suit and gazed out toward

the invisible audience masked by the glare of the studio lights. He had the

ruddy, healthy face of a well conditioned athlete, and the pressure points of

his clothes revealed the powerfully muscled limbs that lay beneath them.

Crawford, by contrast, was a slender man with aristocratic features that

collapsed into an elfish grin at the slightest provocation. The five second

warning came, and Crawford composed himself for the cameras. When the camera

came on he stared straight into the lens and said smoothly,"We are talking

tonight with Mr. Winston King, the author of the new bestseller, Giantesses of

the Apocalypse." Crawford turned toward his guest and continued without pause.

"Tell me Winston, what inspired you to write your book in the dry matter-of-fact

style of a textbook?"

King laughed indulgently and replied,"I am not a professional writer, I am

afraid. Before all this began, I was a second year student in medicine. When I

sat down to write my book, I wrote it in the only way I knew how. I hope the

style did not put too many people off; I wanted to reach as large a readership

as possible so..."

"Let me assure you, I was not in the least bit put off," Crawford

interrupted. "The textbook style seemed to give the whole book a chilling

reality. Whenever we have a writer on the show, I always try to read their work

beforehand, and I have to tell you that usually I am lucky to get farther than a

 

few pages before I drop off to sleep. But when I got into yours, I simply could

not put it down. I kept reading until I finished it at four o'clock this

morning. I am not a regular reader of science fiction, but..."

This time it was King who interrupted. "You don't understand," the author

said with obvious distress. "My book is not a work of fiction. I was writing

entirely from personal experience!"

There were a few titters from the audience. Crawford's face crinkled up in

his elfish fashion; he looked out toward the crowd and pointed. "So, you read

the book too?" His face suddenly turned into a mask of exaggerated gravity and

his voice dropped an octave as he turned back to King and demanded,"Are you

telling me that everything in this book is true? Are you telling me that you

were captured by a flying saucer and held prisoner by 50 foot giantesses for

fourteen years?"

The audience was silent and breathless as it waited for the answer. King's

ruddy faced managed to turn even redder as he struggled for some way of

answering the question without unleashing the flood of pent up laughter he knew

was coming. "That is a rather sensational way of putting it, but yes, that is

exactly what happened." The primal roar of laughter washed over him and he fell

silent as Crawford mugged at the audience.

Crawford gestured for silence, then turned back to King, his manner suddenly

gentle and sympathetic. "Tell me, Winston...you don't mind me calling you

Winston, do you? Good. Tell me Winston, you are an intelligent man. You know

that this is an incredible book. You must have realized that if you told your

story this way that you would be laughed at. Why is it so important to you to

tell this story that you are willing to put up with ridicule?"

King was no longer at ease, nor was he confident. His right hand clenched and

unclenched slowly, mechanically as he spoke. "The simple fact is, that I wanted

to warn people of what is coming. They have many advantages over us. They are

bigger, stronger, smarter, more technically advanced, and they are longer lived.

But the greatest advantage they have is that they know everything about us, and

we know nothing about them."

"Please tell our audience, what they are going to do," Crawford prompted.

"And when."

"I don't know when it is going to happen," King replied sadly, shaking his

head. "But I know what it is going to be like. I saw them do it to another world

much like ours. One day, without warning, they will arrive with a fleet of huge

starships. The ships will park themselves in orbit around our planet and release

smaller fighting craft. These fighters will then spread out over our entire

world according to a carefully drawn, well coordinated plan. As each vessel

arrives on station it will begin to use it's energy beam weapons to destroy the

foundations of our civilization. They work systematically and thoroughly. First,

they destroy the power generating stations, then the communications networks,

then factories, dams, military installations.."

"I suppose our military is going to just be sitting on its hands while this

 

happens?" Crawford interjected, a trace of elfish grin twisting his mouth.

"Not at all," King replied smoothly, his momentum unchecked. "I am sure that

the military will do it's best. But it will be no more than an annoyance to the

invaders. Our planes will be swept from the sky, our missiles will be

incinerated in their silos. When we have fired all our shells and bullets at

them, we will stop, because there will be no munitions factories to make more.

They will destroy our transportation systems, all of them. Railroad tracks,

highways, bridges, airports, harbors...all will be swept away in a few weeks.

They will burn all the crops and slaughter the cattle."

"And what is the purpose of all this destruction?" Crawford asked. "What is

their strategy?"

"It's really quite simple and effective," King told him. "When it is all

over, the population will be huddled into the cities with dwindling food

supplies. When the last of the stockpiled food is gone, which will take only a

few months since no more is being produced, mass starvation will set in. The

invaders will wait a little while until almost everyone is truly desperate, then

they will land near the cities and set out food to lure the people to the ships.

As the starving people come to them for food, they will be rounded up, sorted

out, and weeded out. A few, a tiny fraction, will be given food and released.

Many will be taken into the ships, and the rest will be mercifully destroyed."

"But won't most of the people be dead already by then?" Crawford wanted to

know. "After all that destruction, how many could survive?"

"Almost everybody," was the reply. "They are very careful not to slaughter

populations wholesale. Their purpose is to capture the population more or less

intact. Any deaths during the pacification are accidental and incidental."

"I see," said Crawford thoughtfully. "But why? What is the purpose of it all?

Will they take our world from us and live here themselves?"

King shook his head. "No, when they are finished, they will probably go away.

They will not return for thousands of years. Not until our population has been

rebuilt and we are ready for harvesting again. They will leave enough people

alive to reseed the planet."

"Will they eat us?" Crawford asked, grinning toward the audience.

"No, not exactly." King had relaxed somewhat as he told his grim story. The

audience had been listening quietly most of the time as he spoke which indicated

that even if they did not believe him, they had a certain fascination with the

apocalyptic picture he was painting.

"The Giantesses are not vicious or cruel or vindictive. They do not hate us,

they acknowledge a kinship with us. Our problem is that they are vastly superior

to us in every way, so vastly superior they can neither sympathize nor empathize

with us. What we think or feel is irrelevant to them."

"Will they keep us as pets? Is that what they want?"

King took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "In order to understand why

they do what they do, you have to understand something of their biology. As I

mention in my book..."

"Did you say biology?" Crawford asked, half rising from his seat. "In that

 

case we had better bring out every man's favorite biology, Diana North!"

Crawford led the applause as the young starlet wiggled onto the stage and headed

for the chair amid whistles and cheers.

King obligingly rose from his seat and moved down to the couch.

Crawford read a brief announcement about Diana North's coming public

appearances, then said,"Diana was reading Winston's book before the show and

asked to meet him so I thought I would bring her out a few minutes early. Is

there anything you want to say to Winston, Diana?"

The starlet turned toward King and put her hand on his. "I just want to say I

love your book, Mr. King. And I want you to know that I believe you, no matter

what anyone else says. It makes me feel good to know, when I look up at the sky

at night, that all those stars are ruled by giantesses who have never known a

moment of fear of men. Giantesses before whom all men can only tremble in fear."

Several men in the audience began to boo loudly. The booing roused some members

of the audience to attempt to cover the boos with sympathetic applause. She came

out of the chair and strode across the stage, the boom mike following her just

out of camera. She pointed to a man in the audience and said,"God is a Giantess!

She has made a just universe and there will be a judgment day for you. I will be

glad when she sends her angels down here to humble you and destroy this sick

civilization men have built!"

The bulk of the audience was delighted with this scene. They laughed, and

cheered and applauded as Diana walked back to her seat smiling. Crawford rose to

his feet and applauded lustily as she sat down, and when the crowd grew quiet

again he said,"But Diana, how can you believe Winston's story and not be

frightened by it? We're talking about the end of the world!"

The young woman shook her head with a flurry of blonde hair swishing across

her shoulders. "It does not sound like the end of the world to me," she said.

"To me, it sounds like the cleansing of the world and the rebirth of life. Of

course, there will be a lot of suffering, but the human race will have another

chance to live happily on this planet for thousands of years. What are the lives

of millions when measured against something as great as that?"

"And what if you happen to be one of those 'mercifully destroyed' persons

that Winston mentioned?" Crawford asked with a wink toward the camera.

Before North could reply, King straigtened up on the couch where he had been

slouching quietly and said,"That is not likely at all. Miss North is a very

beautiful woman. The Giantesses will want to keep her in the gene pool, since

they are the ultimate benefactors. They prize beauty in all forms; that is a

universal feminine characteristic."

"I believe you were going to tell us about giantess biology," Crawford

reminded him. "A lot of people in the studio and at home have not read your

book, yet, so they may be getting a little confused. Why don't you do that now."

King nodded. "Yes. As I started to say earlier, I call them giantesses for

two reasons. First, because in spite of their physical size, they appear in all

 

external respects to be women. Secondly, there are no men among them."

"And why is that?"

"The reason there are no men," King continued,"is because they can only bear

daughters. In order to conceive, they must cross breed themselves with other

races of human beings. There is no doubt in my mind that the giantesses are a

branch of the human race. They probably evolved from normal human beings

somewhere millions of years ago as the result of a chance mutation. Originally,

they lived on a single world in a symbiotic relationship with normal human

beings. After they developed space travel, they seeded hundreds, maybe

thousands, of inhabitable worlds with human beings to assure themselves of an

ample supply of males for their own reproduction."

North nodded. "So you see, we are one of their gardens," she explained

helpfully. "They brought us here, nurtured us, and have watched over us for

thousands of years. When they return, it will only be to harvest the fruits and

flowers, pull the weeds, and clear the way for the next growing season. Isn't

that a lovely vision? Isn't that a beautiful destiny for the human race?" There

was a scattering of applause which was snuffed out by a single jeering boo.

"But Diana," said Crawford, clearly taken aback. "Millions, perhaps billions

will die!"

"But the human race will live on," North said breathily. Her ample bosom was

heaving with exultation. "We will not destroy our world or poison the air and

disappear from the face of the earth. They will not let it happen." There were

tears in her eyes as she turned to King and asked,"Isn't that right, Sir?"

King lowered his head briefly, then looked her straight in the eye and said

gently,"Yes, they will come in time. They always come in time."

The young woman joyfully threw her arms around King and kissed him full on

the mouth as the audience clapped and cheered. "This looks like the beginning of

a beautiful relationship," crowed Crawford as he stood up and joined in the

applause. "But right now, I am interested in another kind of relationship."

Once seated again Crawford turned to King who was holding hands with North

and said,"I would like you to explain how it is possible for a six foot tall man

to impregnate a fifty foot Giantess. But be careful, this is a family show."

The audience tittered and King chuckled confidently. "It's not hard at all,"

he said. "They do most of the work. All you have to do is relax and let it

happen. Once the giantess becomes sufficiently aroused, she simply picks up the

male and inserts him into her body. If there is an egg in the proper position in

the upper portion of the uterus..."

The audience screamed and giggled. King looked out at the audience and saw a

laughing woman poke her sullen looking husband in the ribs. "After a few

seconds, a series of powerful contractions of the walls of the vagina begin

which tend to draw the male deeper into the giantess's body," he said, looking

out toward the crowd. "Naturally, the male struggles to extricate himself. The

struggles of the male causes extremely pleasurable sensations to the female and

heightens her state of arousal. As a result of the heightened state of arousal,

 

the contractions become stronger and more frequent and the male's struggle

increasingly desperate. In most cases, the male will quickly become exhausted

and he will be drawn into the uterus where his body soon becomes attached to the

uterine wall. Tubular fibers force their way down his throat to provide him with

air and nourishment. Another tubular fiber becomes attached to his penis to

carry away semen.

"The Giantess's reproductive system feeds certain hormones to the male which

put him in a state of nearly continuous orgasm and steps up the rate of sperm

production. The sperm is conducted away to the vicinity of the egg."

"Excuse me," said Crawford. "There is one question that intrigued me a lot,

but nowhere in your book did you say whether or not the male was conscious

during all of this."

King looked at him and replied, "No one knows, except those who have been

there, and they never get a chance to tell anyone."

"But you must have an opinion," Crawford prompted.

For a moment, King hesitated, then he shrugged and said,"Well, it can't hurt

to tell you my opinion. In my opinion, they are conscious right up to the end.

The end comes when the egg is successfully fertilized. This may take days or

weeks, but when it happens, the air and feeding tubes dissolve, but the body

remains attached to the uterine wall. The male suffocates within a few minutes

and his body gradually is dissolved and adsorbed. From that point on, the

pregnancy proceeds as in a normal human female."

There was a long silence. Finally Crawford screwed his face up into his

elfish grin and said, "You were a prisoner of these giantesses for fourteen

years. Apparently, they did not find you sexually attractive."

"On the contrary," King said mildly. "I was quite popular and much in demand.

The giantesses enjoy sex for its own sake and do not want every act to end in a

pregnancy. My first mistress trained me as a pleasure male. She taught me how to

conserve my strength and time my struggles with the contractions so as to best

resist the dragging motion that pushes you deeper in."

Crawford's jaw dropped open in awe. "Then you made love to an giantess and

lived to tell about it?" he asked.

"Hundreds of times," King replied. "I became so good, that my mistress

challenged all her friends to try to take me to conception; she even offered a

prize. They all tried, and they all failed. They had a lot of fun trying,

though." The audience laughed.

"I'll bet you had a lot of fun, too," gibed Crawford, with a sly wink.

"I am afraid the giantesses have all the fun," King told him. "If the male

can resist being drawn into the uterus until the female achieves climax, the

contractions cease and he can extricate himself. For the giantesses, this is the

perfect sexual experience because the state of arousal is sustained for a longer

period of time, the final orgasm is more intense, and no bothersome pregnancy

results. For the male, the experience is something like being chewed up and spat

out. This is, of course, the best result he can hope for."

"I guess if its good for her," Crawford snickered,"it's good for him. But

 

tell me, if they are so technically advanced, don't they have artificial methods

of birth control? Why do they rely on such a crude method?"

"You mean the use of trained pleasure males, I assume," King answered. "They

probably do have more sophisticated techniques, but the pleasure male method is

quite reliable, provided certain precautions are taken, and the Giantesses

prefer not to use drugs on themselves when it can be avoided."

"What are the precautions?"

"The main thing is that the male should be well rested, clean, and dry before

penetration," King told him. "Once a pleasure male learns his trade properly,

the risk to his life is actually quite small as long as this rule is observed.

Unfortunately for the pleasure male, the more successful he is, the more sexual

acts he survives, the more desirable he is thought to be as a father. Eventually

he will find himself in the hands of a female who is determined to bring him to

conception. She may use him when he is tired, or just to be certain, coat his

body with a lubricant. In that state it is impossible to prevent oneself being

drawn into the uterus. It will all be over in a few seconds."

"And why were you so lucky? You were with them for 14 years."

"My reputation and value was so great that my mistress would not allow me to

be used except under her supervision. I had some close calls, though."

"Give me an example," Crawford demanded.

"One female tried the old squeeze trick on me," said King. "The way it works

is quite simple. After penetration, the female squeezes her thighs together so

tightly that the male is unable to breathe. This causes him to lose

consciousness for a few seconds and usually that is all it takes. Fortunately

for me I recovered just before it was too late, but it was the closest call I

had, except for the first time, which is always the hardest."

"Tell us about the first time," coaxed Crawford.

King collected his thoughts for a few seconds. "Yes. That was the hardest. It

happened long after I was taken aboard the UFO. I don't know how long exactly,

and I don't know where. Probably on some other planet on some star many light

years away. They had caged me with an older earthman who said his name was

Stone. He was an experienced pleasure male and apparently my mistress intended

for him to instruct me. Stone was a decent fellow, and he tried to prepare me

for what was going to happen as best he could. We spent many hours every day

working out: running, lifting weights, doing push ups.

"Over and over he said to me, 'The worst thing you can do is panic. You got

to keep your head if you don't want to be a father.' In the talk of the pleasure

males, becoming a father was another word for dying. Like dying, fatherhood was

simply inevitable fate. Something to be resigned to, but something to be

postponed as long as possible. I learned a lot from Stone, but it was not until

later that most of it sunk in.

" 'Despair is a form of weakness,' he told me. 'I have seen good men, strong

men, suddenly give up for no reason. You can see it in their faces when it

happens, and you know their next time in the box will be their last.' "

 

"In the box?" Crawford asked with a snicker. "Does that mean what I think it

means?" A roaring guffaw swept through the audience.

King ignored the question and continued with his story. "I now know what he

was talking about. It comes from a loss of self-esteem. One day you feel like a

god, the next you feel like an extension of someone else's sexual organs. You

feel totally helpless and vulnerable."

"That's how a rape victim feels," interjected Diane North, looking

sympathetically at King.

"It's worse, I imagine," said King. "Because you feel that way, not just as

an individual, but as a human being. We are taught from infancy that we are the

lords of creation. Even though as adults we learn how vast the universe is and

how small is our role in it, we still somehow feel that it is all there for our

benefit. We dream of conquering the sea, the sky, the planets, and eventually

the stars themselves. But now, I know that we are merely inferior organisms,

part of the giantesses' life cycle. All our efforts are in vain. That is why the

giantesses' keep us in ignorance and isolation on sperm banks like earth. They

learned that if they lived among us, like the goddesses they are, we would sink

into depression and our population would dwindle. On their home world, there

must have been a constant shortage of suitable males and that kept their own

numbers down."

North leaned toward King and said with obvious concern,"I don't see why you

feel that way. We are not lessened simply because superior beings exist. We are

a part of something greater than ourselves, that is all. They need us, and they

will always take care of us. Not as individuals, of course, but as a race."

King looked at her thoughtfully, then said,"I guess it's different from a

woman's view point. I don't know."

"We are running a little short on time," Crawford interjected. "You were

going to tell us about your first time 'in the box' so to speak."

"Okay," said King. "My mistress was Dejah. One day the lid of the cage opened

and there she was looking down at me. I had been resting after a brief workout,

but I was not tired. She picked me up and took me to her sleeping quarters. She

washed me, dried me, then took me into her bed and set me on her stomach. Then

she began to talk to me."

"In English?" Crawford asked.

"It was not spoken language," King told him. "It was a form of telepathic

speech. I could hear a voice inside my head. It was a low, feminine voice. Her

lips did not move, she simply regarded me with her vast, green eyes and the

words came into my head. She cupped her hands around me and said...." King fell

silent.

"Go on, what did she say?" prompted Crawford.

"I don't remember the exact words," King lied. "They were just stroking

words. She complimented me on my body and tried to reassure me. She told me not

to be sad because my life would continue in the daughter she would bear me."

"Then she did intend to conceive?" Crawford queried.

"Yes, it became quite clear later that she was determined to do so," said

King. "She continued to talk to me for a long time. It was apparent as she did

 

so that she was becoming aroused. She assured me that I would experience

intense, prolonged pleasure and there would be no pain if I would relax and let

it happen naturally."

"Is that true, about the intense pleasure?"

"I suspect so," King told him reflectively. "Their mental powers may allow

them to see the sensations of the male during the whole process. She certainly

had no need to lie to me, since I had no choice in the matter. I think she was

being kind from her point of view. They are not sadistic, although they do react

to fear on the part of the male by becoming increasingly aroused. This is a

survival adaptation, without which, due to their kindly natures, they would

become extinct."

"How can you call them kindly?" asked Crawford. "They are predatory

monsters!"

"I never saw a giantess physically abuse a male," King told him. "It would

never occur to them to torment a weak and helpless creature; they would find the

idea repellent."

"But you say they routinely kill millions of people!"

"They do it as painlessly as possible and they take no pleasure from it,"

King said. "They suffer no feelings of guilt, either. No more than we do when we

take the lives of cattle to feed ourselves."

King took a deep breath, then went on. "Finally, when Dejah was ready, she

slid me down between her legs. Her huge thighs separated and I saw the labia

open in front of me like a great mouth ready to swallow me. I tried to remember

what Stone had told me and use it. I relaxed, and did not fight the insertion.

Their hands are incredibly strong and you will only tire yourself out. They

might accidently break your arm or a leg if you fight their fingers, and they

don't give time out for injuries.

"Inside, it was warm and moist and a little hard to breath. I curled up into

a near fetal position as Stone had told me and waited for the first contraction.

I'll admit, I was scared. At the time, I felt very little hope of getting

through this ordeal alive, but somehow I managed to keep from panicking. When

the contraction started behind me, I pushed back into it as hard as I could and

took the pressure on my body instead of letting the walls close in behind me and

shove me forward. It worked. The pressure was quite painful, but not enough to

break bones. The pressure tended to squeeze the air out of my lungs and I could

not breathe until the wave had passed. Still, I got through the first one, and

the second one, and then I began to have a little hope. I knew the state of

arousal could not last forever, and if I could just hold out until Dejah

experienced orgasm I would be safe, at least until the next time.

"The contractions gradually began to come faster and faster, and they seemed

to last longer and longer. As I began to tire, the most frightening thing was

the loss of sense of time. I lost track of how long I had been fighting, and I

had no idea how much more I had to endure. Stone had told me to count the

contractions, but that was the first thing I forgot. I had the urge to struggle

and try to push myself back into the opening and force my way out. That would

have been futile, Dejah's hand covered the mouth of the vagina. Instead, I tried

 

to relax and take deep breaths between contractions to preserve my strength, but

staying alert for the first sign of contraction, ready to push back into it and

let it grip me instead of pushing me forward.

"It began to seem like an earthquake was happening as Dejah's body began to

undulate around me. I could hear her heart beating a few yards away, louder and

faster, until each beat was like a clap of thunder. In a way, I began to feel a

certain awe, a certain grandeur in the process I was a part of. I was getting so

tired, so terribly tired. Just one more, I told myself. One more, then I'll

relax and let it happen. It came, and it was the strongest of all. I thought it

would never end, and I grew desperate for air. With the last of my strength I

squirmed and struggled against the tremendous forces gripping my body. That was

panic. I felt myself slipping forward, toward the cervix. Then, suddenly, the

pressure was gone. The contraction was over. I breathed deeply, gratefully, and

waited. I was through fighting and quietly I waited for the next contraction. I

was ready to accept my inevitable fate and the oblivion to follow.

"But there were no more contractions, Dejah's body had grown still around me,

and the beating of her heart quieted. For a long time I lay there inside her,

peacefully, enjoying the great luxury of relaxation, until a cascade of oily

liquid flowed around me and carried me out once more into Dejah's hand. She

placed me on the bed beside her, leaned over me and planted a great kiss on my

body. 'You disappointed me, little one,' she said. 'But you gave me tremendous

pleasure. You will make a fine father, someday, but that can wait. Rest now,

little one. You have earned it.' " As he spoke, King leaned forward, rested his

elbows on his knees and talked directly into the camera. "The most amazing thing

of all was the strange feeling within me. I loved Dejah. I looked forward to

seeing her, as I did the following night, and the one after that. Her thoughts

speaking inside me sent thrills of delight through my body. I felt happy that I

was able to give her pleasure. I enjoyed the touch of her huge hands and

powerful fingers on my body when she washed me. I savored every attention she

gave me, which was so very, very little.

"Then one night she came and took Stone from the cage instead of me, and I

was mad with jealousy. I screamed and raged at her as she carried him away. To

my surprise, she came back and took me as well, I don't know why. Perhaps she

was touched by my feelings, or amused by them. She took us both to bed that

night. She sat us both on her stomach and told us what fine little men we were.

She told us she wanted to have a child, and that Stone would be the father. She

had Stone a long time, it seems, and now that she had a suitable replacement,

myself, it had was time for Stone to become a father. Stone protested loudly

that he had no intention of letting it happen this night or any other night. She

ignored his words. I don't think they can hear our voices, although they can

sense our thoughts. When she took the jar of grease off the table beside the bed

 

and set it on her stomach in front of us, poor old Stone cracked. He tried to

run down her leg and hide under the covers. Dejah caught him and brought him

back. Gently she spread the grease over his body and tried to console him. I

could not hear what she said to him, for she spoke only inside his head and not

to me, but I could hear his responses. He pleaded for his life without dignity

or self-respect.

"But then he looked into her eyes and saw them liquid with desire and knew it

was useless. Calmly he said, 'Forgive me. I am ungrateful. What will you name

our daughter?' After a moment, he looked at me and said, 'While you are sweating

it out in the weight room tomorrow, think of old Stone. And don't feel sorry for

me. While your sweating, and worrying, I'll be in glory. Sometimes it takes six

weeks to fertilize, you know.' Those were his last words.

"It was all over in a few minutes. I clung, shaken, to the scattered hairs on

her stomach as she writhed and trembled then gave a great gasp as orgasm hit

her. I knew he had lost his last fight, and she had cheated him. Afterward,

Dejah held me against her breast and told me, 'It was sad to say goodbye to him,

but he was near the end of his prime, and I would not see such a good man

wasted. I'll tell my daughter about him, when she is old enough. I'll tell her

what a beautiful, brave little father she had.' " King fell silent and looked

down at the floor. He looked up and added, "Later she showed me a photograph of

Stone that she intended to save for her daughter. It was a flat, lifesize

hologram, showing a young, nude man cringing in a corner and looking up

fearfully into the camera. She even left it in the cage for awhile to keep me

company."

When King said no more, Crawford asked, "What happened after that?"

King laughed. "I am not going to tell you any more," he said. "If you want to

find out what happened next, you'll have to read my new book which is to be

published in April. It's called Escape from the Giantesses."

"Oh ho! You slipped in an extra plug, you dirty dog," said Crawford grinning

at his most elfish. He turned to the camera and said, "Well, that's our show for

tonight, ladies and gentlemen. We are running a little late so we did not have

time to get Buddy Wells on, and I am sorry about that. Hopefully, he'll be on

tomorrow night if we can arrange it." Crawford looked toward the audience

disconcerted when a chorus of titters and guffaws rolled through the crowd. Then

he looked across the stage and saw Buddy Wells standing just onstage in his

underwear holding a gigantic plastic banana.

"The Giantesses are coming! The Giantesses are coming! Get your dildoes here!

Get your dildoes here!" the comedian chanted as the crowd roared with laughter.

"Buddy Wells ladies and gentlemen!" shouted Crawford. "A man who will do

anything for a laugh!"

Crawford stood up and led the thunderous applause. Crawford then gestured

toward Diana North and Winston King. They rose obligingly to their feet and

joined in the applause. At that moment the band started to play the closing

theme softly. "I want to thank tonight's guests Buddy Wells, Diana North, and

 

author Winston King. Let's have a special hand of applause for Winston King, one

of America's most unique entertainers!" The thunderous applause rose and

Crawford dragged King to front stage center for a bow. "Thank you and goodnight,

everybody," Crawford shouted at the camera. Then he turned to the bandleader and

said,"It's all yours, Professor!"

The band broke into a loud, rollicking dixieland version of the closing theme

as the balcony camera zoomed back, the credits rolled, and the curtain flowed

shut. Behind the curtain, Crawford shook hands with his guests and headed for

the dressing room. Stagehands descended on the set and began to cart it away,

rolling up carpets, and cables.

Amid the activity, Diana North and Winston King stood looking at one another.

"Well, I guess I better go look for a taxi," she said tentatively.

"Do you need a lift?" asked King. "I drove my own car. It's in the studio

parking garage. I'll be glad to take you anywhere you want to go."

"Even your place?"

"Especially my place."

As they walked from the studio to the parking garage King said,"Would you

like to go somewhere else first, maybe have a drink or something? After all, you

hardly know me."

"But I do know you," said Diana. "You told a very revealing story in there

tonight."

"You didn't really believe it, did you?"

"Not really, although I found myself wanting to," she replied.

"Maybe I still want to a little bit."

They reached the parking level and started down a row of cars. "Why do you

suppose that is?" King asked her. "I painted a pretty frightening picture in

there, at least I thought I did. What is it about the reality you know that

would make you prefer that one?"

"You would have to live my life, as a woman, to understand," she said. "Would

you be afraid to walk eight blocks to your hotel down the streets of this city

at this hour of night?"

"If I were as attractive as you, I might be," King replied. "Do you hate

men?"

"No, I don't, but I detest the world they have created. I wish there were

some stronger power to keep them in check." She stopped and stood facing him.

"You will admit it now, won't you? Now that we are alone. There are no

Giantesses. There is nothing out in space but death and blackness. It was all

just a fabulous dream."

King shook his head. "No, you are wrong. This is the dream."

Then King froze and thought: Now what made me say that?

Then he knew.

***

King awoke feeling the usual twinge of regret. He rubbed his eyes, rolled

over on the hard floor, and sat up. He looked around the cage for food, but it

had not yet been brought. He thought about the dream for a moment, how real it

had seemed. He had had that dream more often of late, in many different forms.

He struggled to cling to details, but already they were fading from his mind. In

many respects, this dream had been happier than most. Always, in the dream, he

was home, and always he told his story to people who did not believe. Always it

ended with the prospect of sympathy and love, just out of reach.

King stood up and walked to the bathing section of the cage and took a dip in

the pool. Afterward he dried himself and ran over in his mind the exercise

program he would undertake today. Thuvia would probably want him tonight, so it

was important to allow himself enough time to rest before she came for him. He

stood in front of the mirror studying his body. His hand went to the iron grey

at his temples and his eyes studied the still powerful muscles that rippled over

his body when he moved. He massaged his firm flat stomach feeling for the

slightest evidence of fat; turning sideways he studied his profile.

"I am nearing the end of my prime," he said to his reflection. "We must not

waste such a good man."

THE END

Giantess Stories: GIANTESSES OF THE APOCALYPSE Part 1

The band launched into the opening theme, the lights went up, and the balcony By Astrogator By Astrogator Part 1: Winston King Part 1: Winston King GIANTESS

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]

 

 

Update cookies preferences