Festival
by Number 10

It was just after dawn, and the young men of the village came out of their houses and slowly gathered at the main crossroads. From there began a road leading north. No simple highway, it was the path to today's destination and the highlight of their year. It was called Festival.

Festival had its origins in a chance meeting thirty years before. Three young men from the village were returning home from a long journey, and decided to stop at a river to bathe and cool off. There they met three women from a different village. This village consisted of humans with extraordinary size and girth; none of the women were less than forty feet.

The men found them naked and playing in the water. They watched, then carefully waded in. The women came to investigate and quickly took the men under their wings. The rest of that day was enjoyed by all, and they agreed to meet the following year.

The word spread in both villages, and the numbers grew yearly. Now, all of the unattached men from the village attended, as well as the much larger women of the giant village. The elders of both villages tolerated Festival because it allowed the participants to blow off steam, to have some fun before settling down with a same-size mate.

Festival meant fun, community, peace, music, food, and sex. Everyone's hair came down. There were few rules - mainly to respect each other and to shun violence and bad feeling. Most people abided by them, and problems were rare.

Among the knots of men heading for Festival, three friends walked together and chatted. Tom, Jeff and Dan were all looking forward to the day and night to follow.

'You think Calliope will come this year?' Dan asked.

'Don't know,' replied Tom. 'You know she didn't show last time.'

'Yeah, but Maggie and Sweet Jane did,' said Jeff. 'Man, I love those fine ladies.'

'Amen,' said someone with reverence. Then there was silence.

The three came up behind two other men who walked more slowly. One was telling the other about a dream he had the night before, a dream about the ladies of Festival.

An intruder who had been eavesdropping veered over. 'Huh. Dreaming about women, eh? That's weird. Maybe you are one yourself, or you're getting in touch with your feminine side.'

The man whose dream was being dissected glared at him. 'I'll tear that little shit's head off! Let me at 'im!'

His friend restrained him and said a few calming words. Jeff, who had heard everything, spoke to the intruder.

'Shut your face, Goldenrod. A little early to be stirring up trouble, isn't it? Just mind your own damn business.'

Goldenrod, a skinny, yellow-haired kid with a gap in his front teeth, smirked at them like an uglier version of Alfred E. Newman. 'Feminine side, feminine side,' he brayed ''Nuff said.' With that, the annoying Goldenrod darted away to bother someone else.

'Man, I can't stand that idiot,' said Tom. 'He really shouldn't be allowed at Festival.'

'Yeah,' agreed Jeff. 'But hey, all we can do is ignore him. Right?'

'Right,' said Dan, and they all quickened their pace. It would only be a few miles now.

The riverside was a perfect setting for Festival. The slow, wide river curved around the clearing, with here and there clumps of birch trees and few maples and poplars that provided shade. The early afternoon sun shone and a breeze came off the water. The musicians had already arrived and were setting up with their backs to the forest. Next to them a large oak tree stood. Resting against it was an enormous, unusual stringed instrument. It was larger than any of the musicians.

The ladies began to arrive. A regiment of about a dozen giant women walked the clearing, looking for spots to rest. Their village was farther away than the men's, but their long legs got them there quicker.

Other set up tables with food: bread, cheeses, fruits and vegetables. The women always brought the food, not because they were women, but because the men could never carry enough to satisfy the giantesses appetites.

Two of the women, a very large one and a shorter, slighter woman exchanged pleasantries with the musicians.

'Hey, guys,' said the big woman, 'Maggie's here! You can start playin' now!' The guys laughed as they tuned their guitars. 'You know my sister, Sweet Jane.'

The musicians looked at Jane, who seemed curiously melancholy.

'Sure we do. Nice to see ya, Jane' said the lead musician, a heavyset man with a gray-white beard. 'You too, Maggie.'

The ladies sat down and listened to the first tentative notes, hugged their knees and awaited the arrival of the men.

An hour later the atmosphere had changed greatly. The men were all present and each one made the rounds. There were always many more men than women at Festival, but the women were friendly to all. Sharing was understood.

Already a small crowd was forming around Maggie. Everyone liked her. Her shaggy mane of reddish-brown hair framed her wide face and a mouth that was always ready to smile. Her nose was broad and somewhat long but it fit her face well. She also had the largest eyes of all the women. Maggie wasn't fat but she did like to eat, and was very well endowed.

Jane resembled her sister slightly, but her face had something else; a calm glow that soothed and relaxed the men. She was very kind and would help anyone who needed it. Her hair was dark and tied behind her elegant neck. Her pretty brown eyes, usually shining, seemed a bit vacant.

Tom, Jeff and Dan now made their way to Maggie's circle. As they did, Sweet Jane returned from some errand and took her place next to Maggie. Suddenly, another male popped up nearby. It was Goldenrod.

He eyed the two sisters. 'Hiya there, Maggie. Jeez, you're huge. Did you put on weight?'

Maggie looked at the young man with slightly narrowed eyes, but kept her smile. 'Oh, and it's SO great to see YOU TOO, Goldenrod.'

Sweet Jane gazed with dull eyes at the young man. He looked back at her and snorted. 'Hey Jane, cat got your tongue? Whatza matter with ya?'

Goldenrod wasn't the only one. All the men noticed the change in Jane. Last year she had been talkative and full of laughter; now she hardly said a word. Although surrounded by sunshine and good humor, she seemed to be enclosed by an invisible box of rain.

The men began to protest. 'Hey, back off, Goldy.' 'Leave her the hell alone, jackass.' 'Asshole!' and other choice words.

Maggie was businesslike. 'Okay fellas, who's up for a swim? The water slide opens in five minutes!' A big whoop went up from the men and most of them headed for the river. The music now was slow and restful, the guitars and harmonies creating a mellow mood.

Jeff looked at Sweet Jane. He had an idea. 'You guys go ahead,' he said to Tom and Dan. 'I'm gonna stay around here.'

'Are you nuts?' said Dan, incredulous. 'Water slide, man, water slide!'

'I know. Knock yourselves out.'

The two friends hurried off to the river as Jeff strolled around the clearing. He wondered what he could do to help Jane. He looked at her but failed to catch her eye. Once again he noticed that despite her considerable beauty, there was something amiss. He decided he would ask the other women and try to find out what happened to Jane.

The water slide was Maggie's specialty. While the other giantesses were content to let the men play on their massive bodies, Maggie used imagination. She sat by the river, her clothes now removed, her buttocks planted on the riverbank. She plunked her feet into the warm water and spread her legs wide. Then she leaned back on her elbow and applied a light coat of special oil to her chest, stomach and abdomen. Her thick bush of pubic hair had been trimmed for the occasion.

'All right, I'm ready. Who is the lucky guy to go FIRST?' Thirty hands went up. 'Lemme see.' Maggie closed her eyes and picked a guy at random. Holding the squirming man close to her face, she asked, 'Ready? Okay, honey!' She held the man against the hollow of her throat for a moment, then let go. And whoosh! the surprised man slid down the smooth, giant body like a bobsled on glare ice. At the end her soft pubic mound created a jump that sent him flying, then down into the water with a tremendous splash.

'Woah! That was great! I'm going again!' The man's reaction was typical, and the next hour found Maggie indulging the men and having a fine time herself.

By the time Maggie and the men came back, the sun was setting over the river, reflected in shimmering waves. The warm breeze stirred the bronzed autumn leaves and a few fluttered downward.

The musicians were now in high gear, doing longer jams and pushing their rhythms and melodies into new dimensions. The effect on the men was electric. They should have been exhausted after the water slide but the music brought them right back, ready to go again.

Everyone had eaten their fill and began to dry off. The giantesses, following Maggie's lead, began to disrobe by various stages. A tall, buxom blonde lay near the center of the clearing with a man on each nipple. Others joined in. Some of the women were content to watch, or just talk and drink wine with the men.

The musicians had taken a break and all was relatively quiet. Some of the men started talking about Calliope. Calliope had been very popular at past Festivals. She had an intelligent, attractive face, and shoulder-length, wavy, light brown hair. They remembered her as being very thin but shapely. Calliope always refrained from sex, but she flirted with the guys, read them her sensual poetry and talked with them into the small hours. Many were surprised when she stayed away the previous year. No one knew the reason.

Dan spoke for everyone when he said, 'I can't figure her out. She just stopped coming. Why?'

Tom piped up. 'Maybe she got old.'

No one had an answer to this. Tom may have been right.

As darkness approached, the men began to build the huge bonfire. It had to be big enough for everyone to sit around. Also, it would be the only source of light.

Finally the fire was lit. Jeff saw Sweet Jane staring into the flames, and decided to approach her. He hadn't found out much during his earlier quest. The other women would say only that she experienced a personal loss. One of them had said that Jane lived alone, bleakly and by choice. Clearly her life had taken a wrong turn.

Jeff put his hand on her knee. 'Would you like some company?' he asked. Jane nodded, and Jeff climbed up and sat upon her thigh. He then watched the flames with her, and Jane's hand rested on her leg right beside Jeff. Jeff looked at Jane's face and studied it. When Jane caught him looking, she smiled slightly.

Gradually, all of the women settled around the fire, with the men taking their places among them. Maggie, sitting Indian-style, had five men between her crossed legs, all pleasuring her inner thighs. Suddenly, she sat up straight.

'Okay, I need one more. Who's it gonna be?' She grabbed the nearest bystander and plopped him down before her womanhood. 'Yup, you'll do. Let's feel your lips and tongue, and make sure you drive me wild.'

The new man was puzzled at first, then he enthusiastically complied. Maggie could do no wrong. She didn't exactly follow the rules, but that was OK by everyone. 'That's Maggie,' people said after hearing about her latest escapade. It was always said with a smile.

As the night wore on, the interaction increased, the music sounded better, the wine tasted even richer. People were starting to dance and sing to the music.

Jeff was silent for a bit, but soon he got Jane talking. In a calm voice, she talked about her life and her recent past. Jeff listened, nodding. There was plenty of time. He was surprised to find himself sitting in her hand, close to her face that was lit by the flickering flames. At this range her beauty had a powerful effect on him. It seemed the spell would last forever.

Naturally, Goldenrod broke it.

'Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane,' he yelled up at her. 'When are we gonna see your tits? Better yet, when do I get to suck on 'em? Come on, baby, open up!'

Jane was shocked. Everyone was shocked.

Goldenrod now had the stage, and was savoring it. 'You know,' he said to the crowd, 'I'm not even sure is Jane's a girl. How do we know? We need proof.' He turned back to her. 'Prove to us you're a woman. Show us those tits.'

Sweet Jane started to open her mouth, but it was Maggie who spoke.

'Goldenrod, come see me. Come see big ol' Magnolia. I have a surprise.' Maggie reached over and extended her hand.

Goldenrod, haltingly at first, walked into the waiting hand. He smiled nervously.

Maggie held the man in her palm, and raised him to slightly below her chin. 'Now, do as I tell you. Curl yourself into a tight li'l ball.'

'But why...'

'Do it, honey.' The affection was gone from her voice now. This was a command.

The young man grabbed his knees and assumed a fetal position. Maggie encircled his body with her index and middle fingers and thumb. Then, like a starting pitcher for the San Diego Padres, she wound up and hurled Goldenrod in the direction of the river. He sailed into the black night and everyone held their breath until they heard a faint ker-sploosh. It was far away and he would have some job getting back.

A brief silence, then whistles, cheers and applause from the men filled the air. Maggie inclined her head and did a mock curtsy. The women laughed and smiled too, but the biggest smile was from Jane. Jeff was amazed. All the tension and sadness had left her face. It seemed to him that Festival had improved greatly from that moment on.

The musicians were getting ready to play again when a rustling sound came from the forest. Everyone looked. The shape was hard to make out by firelight, but it seemed to be a giantess. A new giantess.

'Oh my God,' someone whispered. 'It's Calliope.'

And it was. Calliope walked past the bonfire and sat next to the musicians. Then to everyone's surprise, she lifted the huge stringed instrument near the oak and set it on her lap.

'It's called a mandolin.' Jane told Jeff in a low voice.

Calliope nodded at the musicians, who then began a new tune. It had a gentle, country sound to it, with simple yet thoughtful lyrics. Everyone swayed with the music. A voice sang out:

'Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.'

At the first word, Calliope began to play. The sound her fingers made was haunting and evocative. No one knew Calliope had this gift, but she had many talents and this was one more.

The song continued, and all at once a line stood out for Jeff:

'If I knew the way, I would take you home.'

Jeff and Sweet Jane looked at each other, and it was clear they were thinking the same thing.

Now the song was nearly over and everyone sang along. No one knew the words, but it didn't matter. The men sang out in clear, strong voices, the women more quietly. They blended perfectly as the sound swelled and the mandolin's poignant notes, over everything, soared high above the Festival.