Sluts Amok

by SmallFrye

Gary Bell made a big mistake.

His brother-in-law, Peter Vandercleft, was the biggest porno producer in the San

Fernando Valley. Living in a sleazy relative's guest house in order to cut down

on expenses, however, was not Gary's big mistake.

To keep Peter off his back about utilities, and to help pay for esoteric tomes

of a scientific and/or magical nature, Gary had become a production assistant

and gotten to know some of the Peekablue Video contract girls. A few of them

were genuinely nice, but the most successful porno stars were insecure,

manipulative bitches. Gary stayed away from the bitches, and chatted the nice

ones up. This wasn't Gary's big mistake either.

When a video shoot in Peter's house ended, Krystal Tipps, Ruby Ravage, Kalahari

and JC McIlhenny all needed rides home. Before they piled into Gary's AMC Pacer,

Kalahari had to pee. Gary let all four girls into the guest house, where he

ended up demonstrating the Prototype to the others while Kalahari drained her

desert.

Before long, he was standing naked in the pale palm of Ruby's tan hand,

surrounded by four faces the size of Diamondvision screens. The piss-stop -- now

THAT was Gary's mistake. For the four monsters, who seemed 200 feet tall to the

two-inch Gary, were Peekablue Video's top talent.

"Let's call him 'Mr. Dinky,'" Krystal giggled, "because he's little, okay?"

Ruby's enormous, brown-black eyes flicked toward Krystal's unfeeling china-blue

orbs, but the muscular Latina held her tongue.

Redheaded JC, as always, deferred to Krystal. "Hello, Mr. Dinky," she grinned,

putting on her shy, Catholic-schoolgirl smile.

JC's kind face hovered over Gary for a second. She licked her chapped lips.

Then, glancing at Krystal, she plopped her freckled chin into Ruby's palm,

throwing Gary against JC's toothpaste- and tobacco-scented smile. As Ruby's

giant fingers wrapped around the redhead's chin, JC rammed her tongue out,

pressing Gary into the Latina's palm.

"Mmmmmgh...." His view was limited to her open mouth, a garage-sized caricature

of seduction.

"Unnnh...ohhh...!" the cavern before him roared, as JC made her best porno

noises. The other girls' laughter almost deafened him. The tongue slathered him.

Crying for help, Gary was rolled across Ruby's palm by JC's lower lip then

pressed between both lips and lifted up. The young redhead tilted back, and,

smiling around her toy, opened her mouth.

"Bye, Mr. Dinky," Krystal's babygirl voice boomed.

Gary looked past JC's extra-huge teeth, down her cavernous throat and sobbed. He

knew he'd never get out of this. As the tongue lifted, drawing back into its

leviathan mouth, a jolt went though his entire body. Before he knew what had

happened, he was hundreds of feet away, dangling by a leg before Kalahari's

broad, dark face.

"You know you don't want to deep-throat Mr. Dinky," Kalahari's raven-black

eyebrow shot up. "You won't ever get him back." Krystal joined the monstrous

woman in deafening laughter.

"Why not?" JC shot back. "He can't do anything for me."

Ruby growled, drawing herself up to her full six-three in heels. "Listen, you

guys. I think..."

Gary screamed in Kalahari's fingers. "Shh! He's saying something." Kalahari held

him to Krystal's ear.

Hysterical, Gary shouted at the top of his lungs. Krystal convulsed with

laughter into Ruby. "I heard him! He said, 'my name is Gary, my name is Gary.'

like I care, little boy!"

"Please, Mr. Gary, get your cousin to give me more money," JC batted her eyes.

Her freckled hand reached for Gary, but Kalahari cupped him to her ear.

The black giant tilted her head to one side and removed her hand, stranding Gary

in her ear. "What? WHAT?" Kalahari shouted, smiling at the others. "He says

Peter's his brother-in-law, and I think that really matters. Heads up!"

Kalahari flipped her head upright, launching Gary across the room. The poor

magician/scientist bounced off the collar of Krystal's leather jacket, rolling

down her pale cleavage into her tube-top, wedging between her impossibly huge

boobs -- each the size of a parking structure.

Krystal yanked on her tube top and started to wriggle, watching Gary sink deep

into her flesh. When he was out of sight, she began to jump up and down, giving

a little babygirl squeal with each bounce.

As Kalahari and JC clapped along, JC giggled. "Poor Mr. Dinky, he's useless. To

think I almost swallowed for him."

Then JC was two inches high.

Ruby stood by the Prototype -- a cookie tin with a few unmarked knobs and

buttons. She watched her three fellow sluts running around on the wood floor,

panicking. Ruby didn't move a muscle. She realized Gary was just a speck now,

either pinned under one of Krystal's untethered tits, lost in her normal-sized

clothing or killed when he fell from her cleavage-trap.

"Like I was saying." Krystal, JC and Kalahari looked up and trembled as the

skyscraper musclewoman boomed, "we need Gary to show us how to work the

Prototype. Is he still alive?"

Gary gasped for air as he dropped into Krystal's hand. Three enormous faces,

distorted by fear as much as by perspective, drew near his bruised form. A mile

beyond them, Ruby licked eager lips that, to him, were big enough to engulf a

city block. My God, Gary thought. If she hasn't reset the Prototype, I'm a

sixteenth of an inch tall.

"Sorry, Gary," Krystal bellowed. "Sorry," the others chimed in, knocking him

down.

Kalahari shouted up to Ruby. "He's okay!" Gary covered his ears.

"You're too small for Ruby to hear, remember?" JC spat at Kalahari. Krystal's

hand closed around Gary as the shrunken ladies waved Ruby down to their level.

Kneeling like a mountain in a knit dress, Ruby placed her eyes about three

inches from the other girls.

Krystal opened her fist and smiled prettily. Ruby spotted the little pink mite

that was Gary. Her face relaxed.She stood.

Her footsteps crashed around the guest house, until she returned with a short

swatch of scotch tape. "Put him on this, with his head sticking off the edge."

Carefully, she positioned the tape over her blood-red right pinkie nail. Gary's

head was a flea-sized bump at the edge.

Ruby gently stuck her pinkie nail in her ear. "Say something," the world seemed

to order Gary.

"What do you want with the Prototype?" the faintest voice in the world said to

Ruby. She scooped up her fellow porno stars with one hand and gave them an

exaggerated wink.

"What else? To take over the industry." Still holding her pinkie to her ear,

Ruby put the three girls up under her dress and into her dampening panties. She

grabbed Gary's keys and the Prototype with her left hand, and strode out the

door.

The wind whistled past Ruby's tan ear at hundreds of miles per hour. Her voiced

boomed through the hurricane. "Tell me, you little prick. Can this thing make us

grow?"

Part II

Before his wife OD'ed, Peter Vandercleft was loud, rich, and venomously witty --

the life of the party. When the party ended, Peter found himself a recovering

junkie with a business to run. He became an especially ruthless, bitter man in

an industry that bred the type. Some said he was still grieving his wife; others

said Peter simply missed all the heroin.

Peter idly put Nancy, a cherubic Asian, through what was commonly known as the "Peekablue

entrance exam": An aspiring porno actress would be fondled and mercilessly

fucked by Peter himself, alone in the basement studio with a camera running. The

plotless, set-less tapes were becoming popular, leading Peter to complain loudly

and often that he paid too much for crews and talent.

Nancy was repulsed. Repulsed by the suggestion that she lose twenty pounds and

get her boobs done. Repulsed by the creep who now mounted her, thoroughly

revolted by his hands in her hair, down her back, spreading her ass cheeks.

She'd been a porno actress named Kitten Chow for a half hour, and already hated

it. Fuck college, Nancy thought. Starbucks wouldn't kill me. I could have my

tuition in, say, two years.

As Peter withdrew and came on her back, she winced in shame. The blood pounded

in her ears, seeming to make the whole room pulse. He got up and shut the camera

off. "Shower if you want," Peter grunted, and turned to leave.

"Mr. Vandercleft? I don't think this is for me," Nancy moaned. "I'll just take

my two hundred bucks now, and let's forget about doing it again."

Peter helped her up, then backhanded her across the face, leaving a welt. "Fuck

you. You want your money for this, you show up for the next shoot tomorrow."

Nancy glared at the man walking away, pulling his zipper up. Her anger seemed to

make the basement, then the whole house, shake. The walls bent and swayed. An

earsplitting crash, then another. Nancy trembled in rage--

-- And a muscular, tanned leg crashed down into the basement, sending beams

flying.

"Peter? Are you down there?" A deep voice laughed.

The bare foot, almost as long as Nancy was tall, shoved debris around, exposing

Peter as he scrambled through a fallen grid of lights. A hand like a cargo winch

slammed down around Peter's waist. The gracefully extended pinky almost struck

Nancy as it cruised by. Nancy saw a three-inch wide dab of clear tape on the red

pinky nail. A tiny man, a third of an inch high, was plastered onto the outer

edge of the tape.

Clear as day, the young Asian woman heard the bug-sized man screaming for help.

Then, as quickly as it had come into view, the pinky mail wrapped arounf Peter

Vandercleft and lifted the struggling producer out of Nancy's sight.

Nancy grabbed for her clothes and ran up the stairs. The deep voice rumbled

outside. "It's time to negotiate, cabron. Excuse me -- cabronito," rumbled the

deep voice. When Nancy shot out of the front door, she was stunned. A gigantic,

naked musclewoman sat spawled on the spacious lawn, clasping Mr. Vandercleft in

her fist, forcing him to confront breasts the size of coffee tables. The

creature must have been 35 feet from head to toe.

Nancy imagined she could see the tiny man still on the monster's pinky nail. She

felt woozy, and sank to her knees.

"You're gonna up my contract, mister. I don't want to hear how my tits need

surgery," growled the giant. She brought his face to a brown, jutting nipple

bigger than his head. She bounced his face off the nipple once -- twice.

"F-fuck you, Ruby," was all Peter managed before the tan giant dropped him. He

fell fifteen feet to the grond and scrambled away. Like a cat playing with a

mouse, Ruby's pupils dilated. She let him think he was escaping, then swung a

foot only slightly smaller than a refrigerator into his legs.

Ruby held Peter down with the ball of her foot and clucked. "Gotta be quicker

than that," she boomed. She scooted her tremendous, shapely rear closer and

stuck her right pinky in Peter's face. "Get a camera, or I'll make you smaller

than this one." Peter ran into the house.

Ruby lay back on the cool grass and stretched out, laughing. "I'm the biggest

thing in porn!" She hugged herself. A look of worry crossed her broad face. She

brought her right hand to her eyes and checked on the little pink speck attached

to her nail. "Move," she commanded, then, satisfied, stretched her hands behind

her.

By the door, Nancy had her head between her knees. She knew it was only a matter

of time before the huge, athletic ogre of a woman saw her. She felt clear headed

enough to stand, but her legs just wouldn't obey.

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Giantess Stories: Sluts Amok by SmallFrye      Gary Bell made a big mistake

His brother-in-law, Peter Vandercleft, was the biggest porno producer in the San Gary Bell made a big mistake. Gary Bell made a big mistake. by SmallFrye b

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2021-08-01

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