Mind over Matter



As Chef once said in an episode of South Park, "There's a time and a place for everything. And it's called college." My rooommates and I took this advice to heart. When I first chose to follow this philosophy, I thought the only thing that would suffer would be my studies.

A little background- My name is Jake, and I was a physics major at Northwestern University. My sophomore year, I moved into a house off campus with some friends I met from the dorm. There were six of us all together, myself, Rob, Chuck, Brad, Ann, and, last but not least, Chrissy. With four guys and two girls living together in a house, you might think our parents would be upset about the coed living situation. However, they were quite unconcnerned. Much to the dismay of myself and all my fellow male housemates, our parents were right not to be concerned. Both Ann and Chrissy were quite attractive, but, it seemed, they were also quite uninterested in any of use, beyond the "really good friend" level.

But that's not to say we were complete angels, either. Much to the contrary, in fact. As most of our friends either had small apartments or were still in the dorms, we seemed to have been secretly elected to be the party house of our group of chums. And we took that role up with a great zeal. Nearly every weekend we had a party that lasted from Friday night until Sunday night, and they were quite killer. Unfortunately, they were also quite expensive. We had all become dependants of modern chemistry, and alcohol, pot, shrroms, coke, LSD, hell, on weekends when cash was short, even kerosene, flowed freely.

It was one of those weekends when we were low on cash that it all started. It was about 2:30am Saturday, and we had already run dry. The last drops of beer were out of the keg by midnight, and the floor in front of our liquor cabinet was littered with busted bottle of Bacardi and Everclear, the only remindrs of our once proud liquor collection. By 1:30 all that was left in the bong was a pitiful little resin ball, and at 2, there wasn't so much as a Camel Light left among us.

So, at 2:30, we were vegging out in the living room, watching the Star Wars Trilogy and trying to figure out if there was anything else to drink or smoke in the house. Thats when Chrissy got up and left for the bathroom. She was in there a good ten minutes, and when she came out, she had a huge grin on her face. I seemed to have been the only one to even notice her absence, as everyone else was glued to the tv. I, however, had kept my eye on her the whole night. The fact is, I spent most of my time with my eyes on her. I didn't know what it was about her. She wasn't all that spectacular. Long, dark, curly hair, and average chest, and she was only five feet tall. She did have killer legs, but it was a very rare occasion when you would see those, as most of the time, like tonight, she wore jeans. I figured it was probably just the fact that I always get horny when I'm high, and since whenever I was in the house, I was high, but, whatever the reason, she always drove me crazy. I got up from the La-Z-Boy (not an easy task with the chemicals floating around between my neurons), and walked over to her.

"Looks like you found something. Want to share?" I asked.

"Sorry, but it's all gone," she giggled, and tossed me a medicine bottle, but as she tossed it, she almost fell over. She put her hand on her forehead and said "Oh damn. I think I need some fresh air." Then she walked out the back door into the cool April night.

I picked up the bottle and looked at it. It was a regular prescription bottle, brown plastic with a label from the school hospital's pharmacy, with the name of some doctor that looked Russian and a name of the the medicine that made no sense to me. (I'm a physics major, remember).

I sat there staring at the bottle for about fifteen minutes, not looking at it, but looking through it, finally feeling the shrooms take hold. I had tripped to Star Wars more times than I could count, so I ignored the rest of the room, and tried to become one with the bottle. When I looked up, the room was empty. My forehead tingling, it felt like a pond that someone had just thrown a pebble into. My arm floated up by its own accord and brushed at it, and a post-it note fell down. I picked it up, and stared while I waited for the letters on it to finally come into focus. After much squinting, I finally figured out what it said - "Jake. Dave came. He's got blow. Basement."

I dropped the bottle and started getting up from the kitchen floor where I had been sitting crosslegged. My bones cracked and my knees felt like they were rusted as I started towards the stairway to the basement. As I was walking, however, Chrissy stumbled through the door. She fell flat on her face just inside the doorway. I tried to help her up, but it was a struggle. She felt heavier than I she looked like she should. I got her onto the La-Z-Boy, and as I looked at her, I thought something looked... Different.

Shortly afterwards, she got to her feet again. I stared. She looked taller. Her clothes seemed to be hugging her pretty tightly. I dind't think she was weraing a crop top at the beginning of the night, but now her I could see her navel. And as I looked down, I saw that her ankles and the bottoms of her calves were vsible, as if her pants had ridden up, or maybe even gotten shorter. I got up to give her a hand, And as I stood next to her, I noticed that I was looking hr in the eyes. But that couldn't be possible. After all, I'm 6'1", and she was just 5' tall.

"Damn, I think I overdid it. I think I'm gonna hit the sack," she said.

"Chrissy, I must be tripping something wicked, cause I'd swear you look as if you've grown about a foot taller," I said.

"Really?" she asked. The expression on her face was hard to explain, half surprise, half a partially hidden smile. she walked out of the room and went to her bedroom.

As I stood there, trying to figure out what could have caused such a strange trip, I heard laughing coming up from the basement, And Rob screaming in a high voice, trying his damndest to impersonate Beavis. I thought about going down for some coke, but decided that, like Chrissy, I had probably had more than enough for the evening, and headed back to my room.

As I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling and waiting to pass out, I heard crashing coming from Chrissys room. Concerned, I went over and opened the door. My mouth dropped as I saw what had to be the most amazing hallucination I had every seen.



Part 2

It was easy to see what was causing the crashing in Chrissy's room.

"What the hell!" I said. Chrissy turned her head to look at me. She was at me with one eye, however. The other half of her face was hidden behind her knee. She was curled up into the foetal position. Normally, a short girl like Chrissy would hardly take up any space when she's standing, and clsoe to none at all when she was curled up like that. However, this was not a normal circumstance, because Chrissy was taking up the whole room. Her bare foot was pressed against the dress at one side, her shoulder and head bumping the ceiling, her elbow pressing against the opposite wall. Splinters on the floor were all that were left of the bed and chair that were the only other pieces of furniture in the room, and the dresser that her foot was pressing against was about to go the same way.

I just stood there, wondering if she noticed the enormous hard-on I had, and wonering if I should even care. This was something I had fantasized about for months. I had alway had fetish for giant women, and whenever I saw Chrissy, especially in shorts showing off those amazing legs, that fantasy went into overdrive. To amplify that matter, I had even convinced myself that Chrissy shared my fetish. I could have been deluding myself, but whenever the Coors commercial with the giants playing in the Rockies she always had to comment on how much she liked the commercial, and whenever we went to rent videos, she always spent a little extra time at the shelf in the sci-fi area that had Attack of the 50 foot Woman and Village of the Giants on it. I had always wondered if I should approach her about the subject, and, if so, how.

Well, none of that mattered now, because there she was, in all of her at least thirty feet of glory. I had no idea what to do, so I just sut the door and went to my room, where I immediately passed out.

I woke up Saturday at about three the following afternoon in a puddle of my own vomit. "What a fucking party." I mumbled through lips that were dry and stuck together. As I walked to the kitchen, tripping over bottles and bodies that were still passed out, a few fuzzy memories of the previous night snuck their way into my head. I made a pot of coffee, figuring my roommates should be waking up any time soon, and they would have hangovers at least as bad as mine. I went for some aspirin but before I mad it to the bathroom I remembered that we had taken it all the preious night. That was when I remembered Chrissy's medicine bottle, which quickly led to what I saw in her room. "Holy shit." I said, my throst cracking as I finally found my voice. I dropped the mug onto the kitchen floor, where the coffee mingled with spilled beer and the mug shattered,although even the shards of ceramic didn't look out of place with all the litter on the floor from the night before.

Just then, Chrissy walked into the room. Looking normal sized, wearing boxers and a T-shirt. I stared at her, and she must have noticed, because she started to blush. Then I relaized that when I saw her the other night, or at least thought I saw her, she had completely outgrown her clothes, and was completely naked. At that thought, I could feel my cheeks get a little hot, too. She went to the fridge and got out some eggs. Even though we weren't looking at each other, I still felt awkward, so I went to the lving room. As I walked past her room, I peeked inside her door. Whatever really happene the last night, it must have been rough, because all the furniture was trashed, and there were several holes in the plaster of the wall. I could feel my cheeks start to glow again, and continued into the living room and turned on the tv to try and break the silence. I had just settled odwn in the chair to watch the Frugal Gourmet on PBS when I remembered that I never did get my cup of coffee. I went back into the kitchen, wondering what would happen if Chrissy was still there. Sure enough, she was. So were Chuc and Ann, so I figured I was in safe territory. I grabbed a new mug of coffee.

"Damn, woman! Somebody's hungry!" Ann said. I looked over to the tabl and saw Chrissy sitting there, surrounded by food. She had a plate covered in a mound of scrambled eggs, a mxiing bowl filled with Cheerios, at least a dozen slices of taost, and an empty saucepan that had a little goo aroun the edge that could only have been cooked outmeal. I watched as Chrissy devoured the eggs. in what seemed to be a matter of seconds, the plate was clean. she had just started to movw on to the toast when Brad walked in, a case of Leinenkugels under one arm and two boxes of donuts under the other.

"Breakfast of champions!" he announced, then went on to explain "cover fo last night wasn't bad. Enough to get house beers for the rest of the weekend, at least, and maybe a couple lids, too. And Dave said last night that he could hook us up-"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, however, as Chrissy tackled him, ripping a box of donuts from his arm. I looked back at the table, but there was no trace of the feast she had been munching on a minute before.

"Somebody's got the munchies this morning," Ann joked. "Were you holding out on us last night?"

Chuck walked over to Chrissy and patted her shoulder. A wave of extreme hatred ran through me as he leaned next to her and said "Where's a cute little girl like you put it all?"

Chrissy answered, "Well, I gotta keep fed. I'm a growing girl, after all."

I grabbed a beer out of the case Brad had carried in and took my coffee back into the living room. Whatever happened last night, there was definately something strange about Chrissy, and it was making me hornier than Larry Flint at a mud wrestling championship.

I had sat through the Frugal Gourmet when Rob walked into the lving room from the kitchen. From the look and smell of him, I guessed that he had just woken up. He was carrying the remains of the case of Leinies that Brad had brought and tossed me one.

"Thanks." I said, secretly glad that I wouldn't have to go back into the kitchen to get another beer and see Chrissy again.

"No problem," he said, opening his own beer and taking a swig. "Man, you seen Chrissy? she's eating up a storm. I swear, she must have emptiied half the damn fridge."

"So what if she's a little hungry?" I snapped back.

"Sorry, man. We gotta get our hands on some more pot so you can chill," he said.

We watched the New Yankee Workshop and This Old House. We were out of beer and I was about to get up to go to the kitchen for another coffee when Chrissy walked in.

"Jake, we have to talk," she said, and went out the front door. I followed her outside. She looked around, and when she was sure no one else was around, she beckoned me closer. I walked up nect to her and she whispered in mye ear. I didn't notice what she was saying at first, as I was too distracted by the fact that I didn't have to lean down to hear her whispering.



Part 3

Chrissy noticed that I wasn't paying attention to what she was saying and slapped me right in the face.

"Sorry," I said. "I must have been a little distracted."

"It's understandable," she replied. "Now pay attention. This is important. I need to know what happened last night."

I told her about what had happened at the party the previous night, although I ended my recount where she went back to her room. I felt unsure of whether or not I should tell her whatI thought I saw in her bedroom later on.

"That's all?" Chrissy asked. "I.. I know this may sound crazy, but, well, I thought that. I thought that you were in my room later on... And... I.. damn, it must have been one hell of a party, because I thought that I was growing. I could swear I remember you walking in on me, and I was, like thirty feet tall or something. It was one hell of a hallucination, that's for fucking sure."

After she told me that she thought it happened too, I felt less awkward about telling her that part of the story, so I told her what I saw.

"You don't suppose it was real, do you?" she asked.

"Well, I just don't see how it's possible. That much mass has to come from somewhere, and besides, you're not a giant now, are you?" was all that I could say, although, deep down in my heart, I was hoping I was wrong.

"I guess you'r right. Weird that we'd have the same hallucination, though. Have you ever had that happen to you before?"

"No, but I've heard of mass hallucinations before." I replied. "Mayeb we had been talking about something that made us both have the same trip." I started to wonder if I had told her about my fetish the other night. I couldn't remember doing any such thing, but then again, I killed a lot of brain cells that night. I had even started to convince myself that even her current height was nothing but a hallucination from the chemicals still invading my body.

"Yeah... But.. I'm not exactly normal right now. Don't tell me you didn't notice. When I woke up this morning, none of my clothes seemed to fit properly. And It feels like I've grown even more since then." She said. Her face betrayed no expressions. I had always thought that of all the people in the house, we were closer to each other than anyone else. I prided myself on having what I thought of as a a deep understanding of Chrissy. But at this point, not even a hint of her thoughts was being conveyed through those beautiful green eyes of hers.

"I thought it was just aother halucination. But yeah, you do look like you're about six feet tall.. What the hell happened?"

"I'm not sure," Chrissy responded. "But I need your help. I haven't got anything to wear, and I'm going to need to go get some new clothes. I feel kind of weird asking you this, but I was wondering if I could borrow som clothes. I think we're about the same size now."

I led her back to my room, and let her have the run of my closet. She pulled on a pair of jeans over her boxers. They were a little loose at the waist so she borrowed a belt. "Maybe I'll grow into them." she joked. I looked down and saw that while they may be too big at the waist, thy were none to long, in fact a good six inches of her ankle was showing. Then she took of her tee shirt and went rummaging in my closet again.

My jaw dropped at what I saw. As I said befor, I had always been fantasizing about Chrissy growing into giantess, and I had even taken the obsession to the point of doing math about it. (I'm a physics major, remember. I know it's sad, but math occupies a good portion of my mind all the time). Living together, sharing a washing machine, you find out stuff about people. I, for instance, found out that Chrissy had a 32B chest. Not that impressive, I know. But I had often wondered, what if she were six feet tall, and in perfect proportion. Ad an extra 1/5th onto her bust measurement, and you come up with a 38 inch chest, and that's exactly what she ad. She was still trying to keep up some modesty by wearing one of her old bras, but it was no where near sufficient to contain her present girth. It was pulled so tight it was digging into her back, and looked to be on the point of rupture. Her massive mammaries were bulging out of the cups, beautiful pale pink orbs rising up and seeming to defy gravity. I tried not to stare, but it was impossible. Luckily, her back was to me as she went through my clothes, so she couldn't see the look on my fac or th bulge in my pants. After a short while, she found a tee shirt that fit her a little better than the one she had just discarded and a flannel. She took some time putting them on, giving me a chance to try and fill my head with thoughts of baseball instead of of her newly enhanced body. She turned around.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"Incredible" was all I could get out.

"Thanks," once again, the reply was accompanied by that strange expression on her face. "Do you think you could give me a ride downtown to do some shopping?"

"Sure." I said. As we walked out ot my car (Only myself and Brad had cars at the house ,so we always ended up giving everyone else rides. Normally, I would get a little pissed at having to drive everyone around, but this time I considered it the greatest priviledge I could possibly receive.), she stopped outside the bathroom.

"Hang on a sec. I need to get something." she said, and she went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. I could hear the squeaking of the rusty medicine cabinet door opening and closing. She came out and we went to my car.

We drove to downtwon Evanston and I took her to the mall. We spent an hour and a half going from store to store. She had to buy mostly men's clothing, although there was a trip to Victoria's Secret. I waited outside, thinking that maybe she wouldn't approve of me following her around as she bought her new lingerie. More than once, I told her that I thought the clothing she was buying looked to big.

"Who knows if I'm done growing yet?" she would always reply. Our final stop was at Eddy Bauer's, and she walked out of the fitting room wearing a new set of clothes. Men's khakis that were dragging on the floor, a pair of loafers that looked as if she would walk out of them, and a new flannel that she had to roll the sleeves up on to let her hands show. She tossed me my clothes, paid for her new outift, and we left the mall. One thing about her new outift. With everything so baggy, she didn't look nearly as tall as she had before. I thought I had figured out why she had bought most of her clothes a few sizes too large now. Maybe our roommates wouldn't notice the change she had undergone. But that was doubtful, and they certainly would notice her attitude, which also seemed to be changing. We went back to the car. As I turned the igntion, I said "So back to the house?"

"First I need to get a refill on my prescription. Be a dear and drive me to the university hosptial." I shivered with fear and excitement as I remembered the pill bottle she had emptied last night shortly before her growth spurt.



Part 4

We arrived at the hospital. I went over to her door and opened it for her, a chivalrous gesture I found myself surprised to be performing. But she had waited until I opened the door to get out. I watched as she got out, slowly. First one leg dropped to the ground, then the other. Of course pants will ride up when your sitting down, but the cuffs seemed a little higher on her legs than they had before. As she stood up, I could swear that she was even taller than before. She walked past me and, sure enough, my eyes were at about nose level, and the tee shirt she was wearing under the flannel definately seemed to be hugging her chest a little bit. We walked into the pharmacy entrance at the hospital, me following a littl behind her, admiring her amazing body and wondering how much taller she was going to get. Six inches? A foot? It shouldn't seem possible, but I found myself beleiving it nonetheless. However, if my mind had ever ventured into the real realm of the size she would attain, and I'm not certain it didn't, I would have dismissed it as utterly preposterous.

Once we were inside, she walked up to the desk and pulled out a medicine bottle, and set it on the desk. I could hear pills rattling in it as she set it down, and realized that whatever she took last night, she had been lying when she said she was all out.

"I need a refill" she told the pharmacist at the counter. The pharmacist took the bottle and started typing on her computer.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you're not due for another refill for two months. Have you been taking one pill a day?"

"Well, it didn't seem to be working, so I upped the dosage," Chrissy purred.

"Ma'am, it says here you are taking this as part of a study by the University. I'm afraid if you don't follow the dosage instructions properly, you'll invalidate the study." the pharmacist snapped.

This did not make Chrissy happy. She grabbed the bottl off the counter. "Look, lasy, I already know this shit works. The study is done, so givwe me the fucking pills!" she shouted at the woman behind the counter. The small group of people who were waiting for their own prescriptions to be filled looked up from their three year old copies of Newsweek the waiting room had provided. The shouting had gotten their attention, but what Chrissy did next kept their eyes glued to her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a hip flask. As she opened the cork, the smell of Jim Beam wafted towards my nose. Then she opened the medicine bottle, threw her head back, and poured it's entire contents into her mouth, followed by a hefty swig of whiskey to wash it down. I had often heard that you shouldn't take alcohol along with any other medication becuase it might enhance the side effects. Hell, that was something that I usually counted on to get me through Sundays. But i had never seen it act that fast.

A moan escaped from Chrissy as the pills slid down into her belly. Within seconds, I became aware of the fact that she was growing. her head started to inch up higher and higher. Her brand new jeans had ridden so high up that her luscious calves were showing beneath the hems, and as I looked further down, the loafers that had previously seemd to be far too big for her were forming red lines on her sockless feet where the leather was starting to bite into her flesh. Her untucked flannel rose higher on her back, and before long I could see the smooth pink flesh of her back between her shirt and her trousers. a sound like a hand being rubbed over stretched wet rubber caught my ear, and I looked down to see that here trousers had stopped riding up, the cuff being caught on the bulge of her calf and unable to go any higher. The denim over her calf was starting to become shiny, and soon burst open, exposing all of her glorius lower leg. Another ripping sound made me look up to see that the sleeves had been torn off her shirt at the shoulders.

I was shocked, and there was only one thing I could say. "Damn, Chrissy. You keep this up, you ain't gonna be wearing a stitch!"

She turned around to face me, but as she did, her head butted against the ceiling. A small shower of plaster cam down as she finished turning her head towards me. The sight was amazing. Her new pants had been reduced to tight cutoff shorts, and the flannel was a ragged vest hanging off her shoulders. The white tee shirt she wore was stretched skin tight across her torso, the bottom of it ragged and just barely below her massive (hell, *everything* on her was massive now) breasts. She smiled at me and turned back towards the pharamacist, shoving a bare arm across the counter and picking the woman up by the neck of her shirt. At first I thought she had stopped growing, as her clothes seemed to have stopped tearing. Another shower of plaster from the ceiling proved me wrong, however. It seemed her clothing had started growing along with her now.

"Give... me.. the fucking PILLS!!!!" Chrissy shouted at the pharmacist.

"I can't." she choke out.

"FINE! I'll get the myself." and with that, Chrissy dropped the pharmacist. kneeling now, she crawled across the floor to the double doors beside the counter that led to the mixing room. I watched her go through the doors, her body so wide it pressed against the wall on either side of the door, cracking the drywall and widening the opening. My eyes, as well as those of everyone else in the room, were fixed to her retreating backside, her incredibly gorgeous ass in those incredibly tight shorts, those amazing legs that, as you may have noticed, I can't stop talking about, and her feet which had long since reduced her loafers to something that looked like it had been a dogs favorite toy for a half dozen years.

I couldn't see what happened in that room, being too afraid that I might be trapped in their by her repidly expanding body to follow. But I herad a lot of screams and shouting, signifying that the room was not unoccupied. The screaming stopped, and at first I feared the worst, wondering if Chrissy really could have killed the people in there. But then out came two men in lab coats, running to beat the devil. Without hesitation they ran straight from the doors they had just exited out the door of the pharmacy and into the parking lot. Up until now, all of my companions in the waiting room had been shocked to the point of immobility, but at this point the spell was broken, and they, too, all fled out the door in terror. As I stood alone in the room, wondering if I shoudl follow their lead or stay behind to see if Chrissy needed help, I heard her voice from the mixing room.

"Jake. I think I' mgonna need a hand here." she said.

Meekly, I crept through the door and into the room. Shelves and racks were twisted and bent into shapes that looked more like they bleonged int the univrsity's art museum than in the hospital. Borken glass littered the floor, mingling with pills of all shapes, sizes, and colors, and puddles of fluid that reeked of ether. I thought I might have been getting a contact buzz from all the chemicals, because as I looked further in the room, I saw Chrissy, her clothes still ragged, but her body back down to a more managable size. She was next to a cardboard box filled with egg shaped white pills that looked liek the ones she had taken just two minutes earlier. I walked closer and realized my eyes weren't decieving me, Chrissy had once again returned to a height which seemed physically possible for a human being to achieve. She stood up and carried the box over to me, and I noticed that, no, she still hadn't shrunk quite down to her original height, being now about 6'3" She handed me the box, which was about the size of a shoebox, and walked over to where she had been and grabbed another.

"Come on, let's get home." she said.



Part 5

We drove back to the house in silence, my eyes constantly flicking between the road and Chrissy. She simply stared out the window, distracted. When we pulled into the house, she got out of the car wordlessly and began walking towards the house, a box of the pills she stole under each arm. She still hadn't changed out of the clothes she had been wearing at the hospital, and I wondered what my roommates would say when they saw her.

Before she got to the front door, I decided it was time to find out exactly what was going on. I ran up to her and placed my arm on her shoulder.

"Hang on a-" I started, but before I could finish my sentencve she whirled around and shoved me roughly to the ground.

"Don't EVER fucking touch me again, asshole." Chrissy said.

"What the hell is wrong with you?," I asked. I was rubbing the back of my head where it had struck the ground. "Are you going to tell me what the hell happened back there?"

The anger drifted out of her face like a fog burning off in the morning sun. "Sorry Jake. But you can understand, I've ben through a lot. I just don't feel like talking."

"Well, sorry," I said, standing." But I've been through a hell of a lot today, too, and most of it was your fault. I think you owe me an explanation."

Once again her visage was stained with anger. "I don't owe anybody a damn thing. God I need a drink."

"Sounds like you need a couple J's. I can see why you might be pissed, but you got to just chill until we can figure out how to get you back to normal."

"You think I want to be back to normal?" Chrissy snapped. "Look at me! I'm fucking huge! And I can tell from looking at you that you think that this new size looks good on me, too. But look at what happened at last night, and at the hospital. You know damn well they weren't just ahllucinations. I was a god damn giant! Those people were scared as hell and running for their lives. I could have done anything I wanted. Do you know how it felt when I went though that door? The walls were crumbling around me! It was like they were made of fucking paper! I could have torn the damn hospital down from the inside out if I'd kept growing! Do you know what it's like to have that kind of strength, that kind of fucking power? Hell no. And you sure as fuck don't know how it feels to have all that power for just a few seconds and then be forced to put up with this?" she gestured down her body with her hands, then threw the door of the house open and stomped inside.

"Oh my God," I muttered to myself. "She doesn't want to be back to normal. she wants to be bigger." I looked up at the sky, imagining myself staring up at her humungous body towering over me. The sky had taken on a deep purple-green hue, the tone that procedes eveing thunderstorms. I went inside.

Chrissy was nowhere to be seen. Having nothing better to do, I walked into the kitchen. Rob, Chuck, Brad and Ann were all sitting around the hooka at the table taking hits.

"You want to join the circle?" Rob asked.

"Why the hell not," I said as I went to the fridge nd grabbed a beer. "We gotta get some more fucking bourbon. There gonna be another party tonight? " I asked as I sat down at an open place at the table.

"No. Our guy's out of town till tomorrow afternoon. But I got a check from the folks in the mail today. They said to go out and have a good time, so I think that's exactly what we'll do Tomorrow." Chuck answered.

"Great," I said. "That'll give us a chance to scrape the puke off the walls from last night."

We all took a hit, then, Brad, choking on the smoke as he exhaled said, "Damn. Got the munchies already." He got up fro mthe table and walked over to the fridge. "It's almost fucking empty!" He said. "Chrissy sure hit it hard this morning." He walked back to the table with a bowl of Jello.

"Any Everclear in that?" asked Rob.

"Only one way to find out." said Brad. He took a spoonful and tasted it. "Nope, it's dry."

"Damn." said Rob. We sat there for a while, eating Jello and taking hits. after we went through two more bowls in the bong, we set it aside and started playing poker.

His face hidden behind his cards, Rob asked me. "Jake, man, you've been down ever since you and Chrissy got back. You two have a fight?"

"Something like that," I said. "Have you guys seen her?"

"You've been here as long as we have, pothead." Ann chuckled. "I think she's been in her room all night."

So they hadn't seen her yet, I thought. I wondered wha they're reaction would be when they finally did. Sure enough, I didn't have to wait long to finds out. A few hands later, the sound of rattling in the fridge and Chrissy's shout of "Damn, isn't there any fucking food in this house?" made us all look up.

We all stared as she went over to the cupboard and started pullin gout cans of Campbells soup. She still hadn't changed out of the clothes that were decimated during her growth spurt earlier that day, and she sure as hell hadn't shrunk any more, either.

Brad, Rob, Chuck and myself all sat there wordlessly oggling her incredible form. Ann, being a heterosexual female and thus not being crippled by the same effect that Chrissy's appearance was having on the males of the house, was the first to speak.

"Damn woman. You weren't kidding when you said you were a growing girl this morning."

Chrissy had taken a can opener to the soup and was swallowing it straight out of the can. After she emptied the can of Creamy Chicken and Rice, she looked over at us, with a wicked smile on her face. "I guess milk really does a body good."

Chuck said "I must be tripping, because you loo fucking huge!" I followed his gaze towards her chest. I hadn't really paid much attention to specific parts of her body, but I suddenyl discovered that it appeared her growth had not been perfectly proportional, as her massive jugs were definately both fuller and more protruding than was the norm for her previous body.

Dan ascooped up another ten or so unopened cans of soup in her long arms and carried them over to the table, setting them down in front of her as she took the last empty chair.

Rob, being a premed student, was the first to notice the ridiulousness of the situation. "This can't be happening. You can't fucking grow a foot and a half in one day!. Besides, it is physically impossible for almost all 21 year old women to experience another growth spurt. The bones have already fused and further growth is just impossible."

Chrissy said, "Yeah, that's what the doctors told me, too. Shows what they know."

"Chrissy," I croaked. "What were those pills?"



Part 6

Chrissy laughed. "Why, those pills were the greatest thing that ever happened to me, that's what."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," I said.

Sighing like a teacher with a student who just can't quite grasp the concept of long division, she said. "You know money's been a bit tight for me. I saw an ad in the paper for a medical study that was offereing to pay volunteers, so I signed up. They were looking for girls under five and a half feet tall between the ages of 18 and 25 to test a new pill that was supposed to encourage post- pubescent growth. I never was exactly thrilled about my height, so I signed up. As Rob just said, the doctor explained to me that it was probably impossible to grow after my bones had fused, but he thought this new medication would trigger the bones to start growing again. Looks like he was right."

"So you mean this is happening to everyone in the study?" asked Chuck.

"Don't know. I have no idea how many people were in the study. But I can guarantee this. Those other girls won't be growing any more. Jake and I stole the rest of the pills."

At that point, everyon looked at me. I felt as if I had to say something, but the only thing I could think of was, "It's just fucking impossible."

Chrissy shrugged and opened another can of soup and chugged it down. Impossible or not, with each can of soup she swallowed we could see her body getting larger and larger. Not nearly as rapid as it had at the hospital, but you could definately notice her head slowly creeping upward, her chest jutting outward until her breasts were pressed against the edge of the table, the soft flesh of them slightly bowing inward as the table edge tried to halt their movement outward from her body.

"I got to get to bed." Chrissy said and rose from the table. She had to be 6'9" as she stood to her full height and headed towards her room. I looked at my watch through bloodshot eyes, and was amazed at what I saw.

"Damn. It's almost 1. Think I'm gonna hit the sack."

A murmur of consent went through the rest of my roommates, and we all headed to our beds. At first I thought sleep would be impossible, but I was stoned and I nodded off withing minutes of hittin gmy mattress.

Sunday morning passed without incident, probably because Chrissy never left her room. At about 7 that night, Dave showed up with our purchases, and by 9 the house was once again packed with people who had every chemical known to man coursing through their brains. No one had mentioned that events of the previous night, and I had once again convinced myself that the rest of the weekend was just one long wicked trip. Then, at 10, Chrissy made her grand appearance.

She walked into the living room, and every male eye spun towards her. To my relief, she hadn't grown any since I last saw her, and she had changed into some new clothes that, while they were in no way baggy, at least fit her well enough to disguise the true extent of her height. But there was still no possible way to think she was thew dainty little five foot girl she had been just 48 hours ago.

As she walked, her jeans hugged tightly to her knees, calves, and thighs every time her legs bent, and her enormous chest bounced up and down in her tee shirt in a way they never had before. I found myself looking to see if I could spot her nipples through the tightly stretched cotton, but discovered that she was in fact still wearing a bra, it was just the shear size of her breasts that allowed them to jiggle as if unbound.

The attention of all the men in the room did not escape Chrissy's notice and she circulated through the room, thriving on the slack jawed stares she was receiving from every male around her. After several minutes, she chose someone I had never seen before, and, pulling him behind her by clutching onto his shirt, she took him to her room.

Jealousy got the better of me, and I found myself leaving the party and standing in the hallway in front of her room. The sweet scent of burning cannabis drifted from under the door, and soon I heard a man's voice screaming, followed shortly by the screams of Chrissy, which sounded, as best as I could tell, like she was in the throes of orgasm. Dejected, I was about to leave when the door opened and the guy she had brought in came running out. He bumped into me and knocked me over. The only words he was able to utter were "What the FUCK?!" as he got to his feet and ran out the house. I peered through the room, by now thinking I would be used to what I would see, but, once again, I saw speechless. Chrissy was still wearing her clothes, or at least what was left of them after her growth spurt had rendered them into rags. I had a little joy in knowing that they had not actually done it, but that soon evaporated as I did some quick mental calculations and realized she was nearly seven and a half feet tall, and still growing. She was eating a candy bar that looked ridiculously small in her enormous hands as she turned to me and said, "I could get used to this." I slammed the door and went back into the living room. Chrissy came out after me, ducking as her head, which was now eight feet above the floor, brushed against the ceiling. I did my best to keep my dignity and did not run, and Chrissy seemed to be in no hurry either. As I reached the living room, I wondered what she would do if she cauvght me, but, in a few short strides, she was at the couch and seated, looking around her nonchalantly.

The stares she recieved this time were not just those of horny men, but the red eyed stares of people who's bodies had just been infiltrated by a mind-altering substance. I looked at the coffee table and saw a clear glass jar half filled with clear liquid and an eye dropper. One by one, people shrugged and turned away from her, dismissing what they saw as an artifcat of their trips.

The springs creaked and groaned as Chrissy tried to lay on the couch, but her body was far to long to fit it comfortably, so she retired to the floor instead and sprawled on the ground. Her beautiful green eyes slowly shut, and a contented smile came ot her lips as she drifted off to slumberland. She stayed there the rest of the evening, and, at 2, when people started to drift out of the house to try and get some sleep before their morning classes Monday, no one payed her any attention. After the house was empty, Ann, Rob, Chuck, Brad and I gathered around her sleeping form.

"Jesus. What are we going to do about her?" Rob said, kicking Chrissy in the rib.

"I'd advise against that," I said.

"This can't be real," Ann said, shrugging. Once again, we all went back to our rooms to sleep, trying to pretend that there wasn't an eight foot amazon laying on the floor in our living room.

Monday morning, I skipped class. Chrissy was up and about, and it looked like she was going to stay at eight feet for quite a while. I went into the bathroom to get ready to leave.

After I was out of the bedroom, I headed for the door. Chrissy Stood, hunched over, between me and it.

"Where doyou think you're going?" she asked.

"Just because you can't go out in public doesn't mean I have to stay here," I said.

"You'll do what I tell you to do." Chrissy said, and she stomped her left foot on the floor.

"Then tel me to leave, because I'm going to anyways. You may be huge, and you may be a hell of a lot stronger than I am, but you ain't the boss of me," I said.

"Fine. Go have fun with your little friends. But bring me back some beer."

After Chrissy moved out of the way of the door, I walked out. I got in my car and drove to campus. But instead of heading to class, I walkd to a pay phone. Pulling the medicine bottle out of my pocket thatI had taken from the medicine cabinet, I picked up the phone.

"Hello. Campus operator? Can you put me through to the office of Dr. Karinsky?" I said into the mouthpiece.



Part 7

I rapped my fingers on the phone impatiently as I waited to be transferred to Dr. Karinsky's office. The phone finally started to ring on the other end, and after two rings I was rewarded with a thickly accented voice.

"Good day. This is Dr. Karinsky. Of what service may I be of to you?" the voice on the other end said.

"Hello Dr. I have a question about your research project."

"I have fear that I can not details of that give out," the doctor replied.

"Listen, doctor. There's something seriously wrong with one of your patients."

"I said before, such matters I cannot discuss with you."

"Fuck you, Doc!" I shouted. "I don't think you realize the implications of your little project."

"Young man," said the doctor, "Vulgarity is not needed. If you are a student of mine, I peomise you I will find out who you are, and you wil not pass. Phone calls which are joking are not happily thought of by the University."

"This is no fucking joke! Something has gone wrong with one of your pateints!"

"And whom would this be?"

"Her name is Chrissy Nelson." I had difficulty staying calm.

There was a pause as I heard him typing on a keyboard in his office.

"The problem would be described how?" asked the doctor.

"I'll tell you how! She's a fucking giant! She's eight goddamn feet tall!" I shouted into the reciever.

"Young man, you are not by any chance on any medication yourself are you which makes you have hallucinations as a side effect perhaps?" The doctor asked patronizingly.

"Listen. I may have tripped a few times this weekend, but I know what I saw. She's a goddamn giant!"

"This is not possible, i will assure you. Such things cannot physically happen. Perhaps you should wiat until you are sober to call me. I have no time for such trivial discussions."

"I know it's fucking impossible, but it happened! What the hell did you do to her?" I was screaming and drawing a crowd now, but the voice on the other end remained calm.

"It is not allowed for me to be gving you information on pateints, but if it will calm you I feel I must. Your Chrissy friend is under no effects from my medication. She is in fact part of the control group on a placebo. Any side effects at all she feels wil be purely psychosomatic, so please do not bother me with complaints about her condition again."

I dropped the receiver and walked numbly back to my car. Could this be true? A sugar pill did this to one of my best friends? Somehow, it almost seemed to make more sense. A medicine couldn't possibly have this effect on a human body, but the mind? Who knows what power the mind has. And Chrissy did definately seem to want to be taller. Did the belief that she was ona pill that would make her taller really have the power to do this to her? And what would happen when she found out that she wasn't even on the growth pill? It started to make more sense to me. If she might have grown to such enormous heights at first after taking the pills, and then even her subconcious relaized such growth was impossible, so she shurnk back down to heights which, while she still should have been physically unable to attain, were nonetheless ralistic enough for her mind to find them possible and allow her to stay there. It even explained why her clothes started to grow along with the rest of her body at the pharmacy when I pointed out she was about to become naked, as her subconcous brought out her modesty and started making the clothes expand with her. But what would happen if her delusion that the pills was causing her growth was shattered?

My mind suddenly was occupied by the image of her deflating back to her normal size like a balloon as I told her the news. The past weekend, I had lived out a fantasy I had never thought possible, but I made up my mind to go home immediately and tell her.

As I drove to the house, another image filled my mind. I imagined that I would pull up in the driveway, only to see the roof slowly crack and split, Chrissy's head and shoulders slowly rising into the sky as she grew ever upward. It must have been some dark part of my mind trying to fight off the actions I had chosen to take, because the thought of an enormous Chrissy slowly emrging from our house, growing until it was completely crushed beneath her inflating form made me so horny that I lost the urgency I had previuosly felt to put a stop to Chrissy's condition, even hoping that the sight that would great me when I pulled into the driveway would match the one my imagination had created.

After I arrived, I waited in my car for a few minutes, watching the roof to see if my newest fantsay would find its way into reality. After ten minutes, I left my car, somewhat depressed. The reasonable part of my mind was screaming at me, but my libido had completely taken control, and there was no way I was going to tell Chrissy what I heard from her physician.

As I walked into the living room, Chrissy was nowhere to be seen. Ann, Rob, Chuck and Brad were all seated neatly in a row on the couch, quietly watching tv. At first I thought they were stoned, but then Chuck turned to greet me.

"Glad to see she let someone out of the house." he said.

"You mean you guys have been here all day?" I asked.

"Chrissy didn't want anyone to find out her little secret," Ann said. "She said it was a new rule of the house that noone could leave, and she made it perfactly clear that she was willing to enforce the rule."

"Yep," added Rob, "You don't argue with Chrissy, not now."

"How big is she?" I asked. "Where is she?"

"God. how big? I don't know. She's in the bathroom now, trying to take a shower. No idea how she'd ever fit in there, though." Brad said. The sound of water I had just noticed suddenly stopped.

"I'd sit down if I were you," said Ann. "And don't say a word. Chrissy's not been in a good mood."

The couch being full, I sat down in the La-Z-Boy. I heard the bathroom door open, and Chrissy walked into the room. I was somewhat releived to see she hadn't grown any more since I had left. Water glistened on her massive form. and dripped out of the dark brown curls of her hair that nag limply down her shoulderblades. She hadn't dressed, but was instead wrapped in several white towels Brad had stolen from the hotel during his spring break trip to Cancun. It took a total of four towels to keep her halfway decent. Two towels were over her bosum, a knot tied between the two resting right in her cleavage, and they were tied again in the back. The other two towels were wrapped around her waist. All in all, it had to be the sexiest bikini I had ever seen, although I'm certain the woman wearing it had a lot to do with that. She walked slowly through the room, obviously putting on a show for the men in front of her, and it did the trick perfectly. I focused on a single water drop and followed as it emerged from under her makeshift miniskirt and traveled slowly down her perfect thigh, puasing as it came into contact with another drop on her knee and then sped down her gorgeously curved calf, slid down her andkle and off the heel of her bare foot into the carpet.

"Glad to see you'r back, Jake," she cooed. She walked teasingly back to her room, giving me a great view of her incredible back, and once again those amazing calves.

"This house is starting to feel a little cramped. I want to go out on the town tonight. Will you drive me?" she asked.

I nodded, my eyes trying to stay focused on her body as the rest of my head bobbed up and down. Inside, a little voice was screaming at me to tell her, but I had no resolve left.

The mock sweetness in her voice disappeared as she glared back into the room as she left and said, "Don't anybody go anywhere. It would make me very angry."



Part 8

We all sat in silence, watching tv and waiting for Chrissy to return. Over three hours passed as we waited for her to return from her room. When she finally did walk balk into the room, she was once again fully clothed, or as close as you could get. She had on another pair of khakis, although even the largest size she had bought was a poor fit, clinging tightly to her legs and stopping halfway down her calves like a pair of capri pants. Another white tee shirt adorned her incredible chest, although it was pulled tight and left her abdomen bare. She was also once again wearing another flannel, although this time the sleeves stopped a couple inches below her elbows and the botTom of the shirt itself was an inch above the waist of her trousers. On her feet were sandals, although I couldn't figure out where she had found any that would fit.

"You ready, Jake?" she asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I said.

I'm certain Chrissy could hear the fear in my voice. From the look on her face you'd think she could actually taste it, and she found it delicous, savouring it like the richest chocalte cake in the world. She winked at me and said, "I think tonight's gonna be fun."

We walked out to my car. Chrissy layed on the grass next to my car while I tried to adjust the passenger seat to go as far back as possible. When I was done, she squeezed through the door and tried to sit down, but still had her knees held up in front of her face. She let out a half growl, half grmble, and got out of the car. As she stood up beside it, the roof of my Volvo was just about even with her crotch. She leaned down and, with a grunt, grabbed a hold of the seat. Metal squeaked and groaned as she started to tug. High pitched twangs signified the heads of the bolts that had been holding the chair in place snapping off, and suddenly she was standing again, and the front seat was sitting on the lawn. She crawled back in and sat herself in th backseat, looking much more comfortable with the added leg room, although she still had to bend over because her head was hitting the roof.

I got in the drivers side and buckled myself in. As I started the car, I looked over to her. "Where to?" I asked.

"Let's try Stub's," she said. "They usually have a decent DJ, and the dance floor has a nice high ceiling."

"Well, most bars have high ceilings here," I said. "Why not the Lounge? They've got Guinness on tap, and the roof will be plenty high enough for you to stand up"

"I don't care what I drink. I want to dance." Chrissy said. Then, that same evil smile that had een occupying her face so often these past few days reappeared and she said, "Plus, they have an poen balcony to the second floor."

I tried to turn my response into a joke, but the laugh I let out betrayed my nervousness. "You think you're gonna grow so big you need a three story high ceiling?"

I looked back into the back seat. Her pants were so tight that even the pockets were pulled so tightly that you could see the outlines of what was in them. And I could clearly make out the outline of what appeared to be two medicine bottles like the ones that had started this mess. My sTomach fell as she smiled and said, "You never know. It's happened before."

When we arrived in downtown Evanston, I drove around looking for a parking place as close as possible to the bar. For some reason, I had foolishly decided to try and have as short a walk as possible to limit how much Chrissy was seen out on the street. Foolish, of course, because even if she wasn't seen outside, there was no way noone would notice an eight foot tall amazon in a crowded bar.

The walk was short, and, being a Monday night, the streets near the bar were relatively empty, so we managed to get to Stub's without incident. Music and smoke drifted out of the door into the cool air, and I walked through, followed by Chrissy.

As my eyes adjusted to the smoky darkness of the bar, I turned to look in back of me. Chrissy was bent over to get through the door, and her shoulders bumped the side. I stared once again at the beautiful giantess and started to fantasize about her starting grow while she was stuck in the doorway, until it started to crack and bend around her until a voice brought me back to reality.

"Hey, buddy," the bouncer said. "I need to see some ID."

I fumbled for my wallet and gradually produced the requested drivers license. I offered it to him and noticed that his stool was set off to the side of the entrance, allowing him to see only people after they had entered but not thse who were coming through the door. So he hadn't seen Chrissy yet, I thought. I wondered what would happen when he asked for her ID and the licence listed her height as 5'0".

"FIve bucks cover," he said as he handed my ID back to me. I replaced it in my wallet and pulled out five singles. Chrissy had still not come through, but I heard someone on the street screaming. I tried to make conversation.

"Good band tonight?" I asked.

"We ain't never had live music, asshole," the bouncer said. "Now move along, there's more thirsty people behind you."

I walked all the way into the bar and turned to see what his reaction to Chrissy would be. After she was finally inside, she stood to her full eight foot height. The bouncer looked up from his cashbox, but found he was staring right into a gorgeous abdomen. I watched as his head tilted upward in slow motion, his eyes following Chrissy's massive torso up, pausing on her breasts, then going up again. When he was finally looking her in the face, he had difficulty talking.

"ID, please, ma'am," he struggled to say.

Chrissy scowled. "Do you really need to see my ID?" once again, the smile. "I'm a big girl, you know."

The bouncer was taken aback. "Yes, y-y-you c-certainly are," he stuttered.

"I trust there's no cover," Chrissy said.

"Not for you," the boucner replied. Chrissy walked away, but the bouncer's head continued to stare up into the space where her face had been. Chrissy walked over to me.

"Let's dance," she said in a tone that was more of an order than a request.

I drained the mug I had bought and set it on the bar counter. "Gotta drain the main vein first," I said.

"Don't stand me up. I don't like being stood up," Chrissy said.

"I'll meet you on the dance floor," I said.

I watched as Chrissy turned and walked into the next room where the dance floor was. I could hear a multitude of laughter and voices coming from the other room. No matter how dead the street was, a lot of people were going to be noticing Chrissy in here. Jealousy started to creep up on me again at the thought of her in that room with all those strangers staring at her, but i really did have to piss. I went to the mens room to do my business. As I was drying my hands, I said to myself "Don't want to keep Chrissy waiting." I was walking out the door of the mens room when two guys who were obviously inebriated to the point of physical impairment stumbled in laughing.

"Dude," one of the slapped me on the shoulder, "You gotta check out the chick on the dance floor. It's fucking crazy!."

His friend added "I ain't never seen a chick so big!", holding his hands cupped upward in front of his chest to indicate exactly what it was that he found so big.

I left without saying a word as they began throwing up on the floor, wondering what Chrissy was doing now.



Part 9

As I walked into the room with the dance floor, I was temporarily blinded. After the dim lights of the bar area, the bright flashes and colored lights of the dance floor made me momentarily thinking I was having a flashback.

As my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I looked around for Chrissy. It wasn't hard. She was literally head and shoulders above the crowd that had gathered around her.

As I walked towards her, I went past a booth where a couple of girls were sitting talking. I caught a little of their conversation.

"Look at the little slut! I tell you, if Steve and Jason don't get back here soon, I say we leave their sorry asses."

"She ain't exactly what I'd call a little slut," the other girl said. "You know Jason's got an eye for girls, and especially tall girls. It's your own damn fault for bringing him to the bar. He's gonna cheat, I tell you."

"Just as long as it ain't with that, that monster over there. I mean, she's gotta have implants!"

"Implants may give you a chest, but honey, they don't make you tall like that."

I walked past them and into the throng that had gathered around Chrissy. There had to be four dozen men surrounding her, drawn like moths to a flame. I edged closer and closer to her until I finally reached the center of the circle of bodies.

It reeked of smoke and Polo as I was shoved side to side by the swaying people, all trying to do their own dance and catch the eye of the amazon, and none havig room to do so. I noticed that, despite the fact that all these men obviously wanted to be much closer to Chrissy, they maintained a five foot distance between themselves and her gyrating body. Slowly, I crossed the invisible boundary until I was standing in the center of the circle, halfway between the people and Chrissy. My idea had been to approach her, but I was trampled as a dozen or so of the braver men, given courage by my bold move, left the circle and gathered around her, some so close they were actually touching her hips as she danced.

She looked down at the people and smiled. "Hey there little guys!" she said. "Wow. I've never had so many guys want to dance with me before. It's so hard to choose..."

A short guy was rubbing against her thigh as she searched for a dance partner. He couldn't have been much more than five feet tall, and would have been the perfect dance partner for her before this weekend. As it was, however, he looked absolutely ridiculous. She picked him up in her arms and held him, his face buried in her massive chest, his feet dangling inches off the floor. I was certain she chose him just to accent her height.

"I better keep you close with me," Chrissy told her little dance partner. "Your so tiny if I don't keep an eye on eyou I might accidentally step on you."

The man's body went limp, and I realized he was suffocating, smothered by her tits. When Chrissy realized this had happened, she dropped him like an old teddy bear on christmas morning. He landed in a heap on the floor, his chest barely moving up and down as his body became used to the concept of once again breathing oxygen.

"Well, looks like he wasn't man enough to dance with me. Any of you guys got the balls to show a girl a good time?," Chrissy cooed.

Driven by their cocks instead of their brains, I watched as the men around her ignored what had happened to the poor fellow and instead moved in even closer, rubbing against her as they fought for her attention.

"There's plenty of me to go around for everybody," said Chrissy.

One guy pulled a cigarette case out of his pocket, and opened it up to reveal a neat little line of joints. He pulled one out and held it up, offering it to Chrissy. Grass was one of Chrissy's greatest weaknesses, and she took it and smoked the entire joint in two hard hits. Seeing that she enojyed the weed, soon several hands were held up around her, each containing a smoking joint. Chrissy took them all one by one and smoked them down until they burnt her fingers, then ate the butts.

I don't think I'll ever know why the police showed up. It could have been a regular bust for minors, or they might have been called by one of the several women who had lost their temper as their boyfriends left them to get a look at the huige breasted eight foot tall sexpot on the dance floor. Whatever the reason, the cops came into the dance floor just as Chrissy was starting up her last joint.

One problem about being eight feet tall- You can't hide in the crowd. The cops could easily see Chrissy's face, joint stuck between her lips, above the rest of the crowd, and they were determined to see the law enforced.

The crowd parted as the cops made their way towards Chrissy. She made a point of ignoring them until they finally reached her and one of the officers reached up and tapped her on the shoulder.

Chrissy looked down, her eyes bloodshot. The officers said "Ma'am, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to come with me."

"That's one hell of a pick up line," Chrissy said. "But you're not really my type."

"You're under arrest," said the second officer, "for posseions of a controlled substance. Now come with us or we'll have to use force."

Chrissy lauged down at him. "I'd like to see you try."

"Listen, lady. We don't want any trouble. Just come along peacfeully..."

"I don't want any trouble, either," Chrissy said. "I just came here to dance and have a good time, and you guys are seriously cramping my style, so get out of my way, flea!"

With that, Chrissy turned her attention back to her dancing, until a gunshot broke through the music.

The first officer was still standing next to her, smoke coming off the barrel of his service piece as it was still pointed towards the ceiling. "Ma'am, you're coming with us. You may think that being tall gives you the right to do whatever you want, but, I assure you, we are not scared of your height."

That, my friends, was the biggest mistake the officer ever made.



Part 10

Chrissy popped the lid off the bottle and poured it's entire contents into her mouth. She almost choked as she tried to swallow. Looking around her, she saw a serving girl who had joined the crowd when the police showed up, to check out what the commotion was.

The serving girl was really quite cute. She was probably about 5'6", and she was in heels. She had on a white blouse and a black skirt that ended a few inches above her knees, revealing a nice pair of legs in black nylons, and her long wavy blond hair hung down to the middle of her back. You could tell that on any other night, most of the men who saw her at the bar would be trying to get to know her better, myself among them. However, everyone's attention was on Chrissy, except for Chrissy herself, who was looking at the serving girl, or, more to the point, the two pitchers of beer she was carrying on her tray.

"I'll take those," Chrissy said, grabbing the handles of both pitchers in her right hand, as her left hand dipped into the left breast pocket of her flannel, only to come out filled with more of the pills. She dropped them on the waitress' tray.

"Sorry I don't have any cash, but here's some of my wonder pills instead. Works a hell of a lot better than a wonder bra, but I see you don't need to worry about one of those, do you, honey?" Chrissy said. Then, her hand dipped back into the pocket, and she shoved a fistful of pills into her mouth. She dipped into the pocket a third time, and continued filling her mouth until her cheeks were stuffed, sticking out like a squirrel with a load of nuts. Then, holding one pitcher in each hand, she lifted her right hand and took a swig from the pitcher, it held, washing down the pills.

Both pitchers went back into her right hand as she dipped her left hand into her right breast pocket, and once again stuffed her cheeks, and once again washed them down with beer.

After exhausting the supply of pills in her shirt pockets, she pulled a second bottle of pills out of her pants and swallowed them, then began taking loose pills by the handful out of her trouser pockets.

"Jesus," I said. I looked around the room. Before Stub's was here, this building had once contained a dinner theater, back in the vaudeveille days. Along both walls to either side of me and the wall in back of me, a ceiling about 10 feet off the ground stuck out, maybe six feet from the walls. A railing ran along the top of this ceiling, which was also the floor of the second level balconies. The DJ had his setup on the stage at the far wall, high velvet curtains draped to either side, just as they had when there were live performances on the stage. I looked up at the balconies. The walls went up probably another 15 feet from the balconies, and then met with the painted pressed tin ceiling that had probably been there since before the depression.

At the hospital, she had grown to probably twenty five feet tall, and had taken probably half a bottle of the pills. Friday night, she had also taken less than one bottle of pills, and grew until she was crammed inside her room like a sardine in a can. Tonight... Tonight she must have taken most of both of the boxes she took from the pharmacy Saturday. I looked up at the 25 foot high ceiling.

"It doesn't stand a chance," I muttered to myself. I looked back at Chrissy, who, to my surprise had not started growing again.

"Maybe she realized it can't work like that," I thought, relieved.

The officers, who had stood back to watch as she downed fist after fist full of pills, walked back towards Chrissy. The first officer yelled at her, "Look, Missy. You ain't doing yourself any favours taking more pills. It's just more for us to convict on."

In a flash, Chrissy's enormous arm lashed out, tracing a great arc in the air as it swung around and connected with the officer, he literally flew backwards with the force. If she hadn't just coldcocked him with her swing, he certainly lost concousness as his head struck the edge of a table and he collapsed in a heap.

The music stopped abruptly when the DJ finally looked up from his console and saw the police officer laying on the floor.

The second officer was talking into the radio microphone he had clipped to his shoulder.

"This is Officer Mercer, requesting assistance for a hostile situation at Stub's bar," he said.

The radio crackled and a static voice came out from the speaker. "Please state the nature of the situation, officer."

The second officer spoke to the diesmbodied voice via radio again. "We've got some member of the women's basktball team going berserk here. She's knocked out my partner. She seems to be tweaking on something. We've witnessed her taking marijuana, alcohol, and a whole pharmacists counter of pills of some kind. You may want to send some paramedics along with a poison control unit," he said.

"Oh, you're gonna need some fucking paramedics, asshole," Chrissy said. "WHERE'S THE FUCKING MUSIC?" she bellowed. she started to dance again, but this time, nobody tried to bump and grind alongside her. My hopes that she had finally realized that her growth spurts were impossible was dashed as, slowly but surely, her head began to inch upward.

Now, I personally am not fond of police. They've busted up way to many of our parties, and thrown me into the drunk tank too many times for me to harbour any great love towards them. BUt I do respect them. They go through years of training just so they can get a job where bein killed in the line of duty is not uncommon. They're trained to handle everything- fires, fights, terrorists, robberies, hostage situations, and bombs. Their courage is beyond compare, and their training allows them to look into the face of death without even flinching. But it was evidentally thought that police training did not need to cover what to do when you are confronted with a rapidly expanding eight foot tall woman, and Officer Mercer, who had probably brasvely but his life on the line countless times before, fainted at the sight of Chrissy.

She began gyrating slowly, her hands rubbing up and down her side next to her chest, her eyes shut as she slowly rocked her head from side to side. Her sandals were the first thing to go, their pitiful leather straps no match for the unrelenting force exerted by Chrissy's expanding body. She moaned at the sound of the leather snapping. She began rocking her hips back and forth, her hands now rubbing on her hips and ass as she moved in slow motion to the music. Her clothes, which had clung tightly to her body before the evening began, showed signs of wear early on.

As her body continued it's leisurely growth upward and outward, her trousers decided to show their agreement with the sandals that she was getting too big by loosing their structural integrity. The back of each pantleg split as her glorious calves pressed back with more force than the trousers could squeeze inwards. Another moan of shear ecstacy escaped her lips when the fabric gave way. As the fabric burst open and her beuatiful flesh began pouring out through the opening, the tear moved upward, until it reached her knee, which somehow still had a little bit of slack left in it.

However, her thigh just above her knee was still encricled with fabric that was reaching the breaking point. The pant leg tore all at once in a great circle around each thigh. The ragged bands of material that had been freed by this new tear clung tightly around her knees until they snapped and fell to the floor. The ragged ends of her trousers legs continued fraying and sliding their ways up her thighs.

Now, as I've said many times before, Chrissy's legs were always the most fascinating part of her to me. That's why, at this moment, I was still looking at roughly eye level, while everyone else was staring up, trying to follow the top of her head through her growth. That is why I was the only one to notice what happened next, as the waitress Chrissy had taken the beers from picked up a pill off her tray and started examining it.



Part 11

Two cliches seem to perfectly describe what happened to the waitress: Monkey see, monkey do, and Seeing is believing.

After playing with the pill, rolling it around in her fingers and holding it close to her face to examine it, the waitress popped it in her mouth. He eyes looked up and out the corners of their sockets, like a wine taster considering the flavor of an unkown vintage of wine as he swished it through his mouth. Evidentally deciding it wasn't going to kill her, she took the rest of the pills off her tray and swallowed them one by one.

She hadn't been told by the doctor what the pills were supposed to do. The pills were placebos, so they shouldn't have any effect on her anyways. However, there was a nine and a half foot tall amazon, who's head was still rising higher, that was showing her exactly what the pills should do, and the placebo effect kicked in with a vengeance.

Her head began to rise upwards, and her white blouse was pulled out from the skirt where it had been tucked in. She had to be growing even faster than Chrissy, although she'd still have a long way to go to catch up with her.

Her head suddenly dropped down for a second as a crunching noise announced that the narrow heels of her dress shoes had given up trying to support her increasing weight. Her skirt was starting to slid up her legs, and soon a small rip appeared on the botTom of the skirt at the side of either leg as they became wider than the area the fabric was designed to encircle.

A button hit me on the head and I looked up to see that her blouse was becoming stretched to the limit. Where it had once hung loosely in front of her, it was pulled so tightly that large diamond shaped openeings were formed as it tried to pull itself apart to her side, the buttons straining to keep it closed. Another twang signified another button flying off, although the blouse was stretched so tightly that I couldn't even guess which area had generated enough strain to seperate the button from it's parent fabric. I looked down again and was greeted by the sight of the pink flesh of her legs as it began showing through the network of rips and tears that had begun to form in her nylons. The nylons were torn completely off at her ankles, leaveing her feet bare, as she had obvoiusly already outgrown her shoes.

My gaze began slowly rising once again along her expanding body, stopping at the botTom of her skirt for a second to watch it continue it's slow journey upward as the tears in the side widened. My eyes continued up to look at her exposed well-tanned abdomen. Now that I was no longer looking at the floor I could see that several other people had turned their attention from Chrissy to the waitress. She seemed happy to be getting the attention she was denied by Chrissy's presence earlier. She, too, began to dance, enticingly swaying her hips and erotically rubbing the sides of her breasts. Then, sounding like a short blast from a machine gun, several buttons popped off her blouse all at once.

No buttons remained on her blouse now, and it flew open. No longer restrained by the ill-fitting shirt, her breasts burst forth, bobbing up and down, slowly stopping their osccillations as they came to rest. Although they were no longer contained in her blouse, her white satin bra still circled her torso.

Her growth continued and I watched as the enroumous mounds of flesh that were her breasts began piling up in front of her as they struggled to get free from the restraint of the bra. They were spilling outward, over the top and to the side, pressed together so tightly that you wouldn't even be able to slide a credit card into her ample cleavage. Her tits heaved with every breath she took. She continued to dance and rub her hands along the sides of her bra until it, too, finally gave off the fight and sprang across the room as if fired from a slingshot. Her heaving breasts bobbed up and down in front of her, now freed from all their cloth prisons. She looked down at the faces of the men staring at her and smiled. She raised a well manicured index finger to her mouth, and sucked the tip of it, then lowered it to her left nipple and began massaging it.

I watched her fingernail, the red paint on it still unchipped, as it began moving in cirlces around an impossibly huge nipple. I was so transfixed by the actions of the topless eight foot woman in front of me that I had temporarily forgot about Chrissy.

Chrissy's voice broke me from my reverie as she said "Hi there, boys." My head turned back to her direction.

Chrissy's khakis were stretched skin tight across her legs, the frayed ends of the trouser legs had ridden halfway up her thighs. Her shirts were also pulled tight, and although she seemed to be outgrowing them, they must have been increasing in size, too, although not as fast as the rest of her body. I looked up, and up, until I was able to see her face.

Just because I hadn't been paying attention to her didn't mean her growth stopped. She still stood on the dance floor, the hardwood boards creaking under her weight as she continued her libindous dance. Her shoulders were as high as the floor of the second story balcony, and her head turned side from side to side as she looked at the people sitting at their tables on the balcony, who were all, in turn, staring at her massive head.

She had to be at least thirteen feet tall. Her hands had dropped to her crotch, and she was rubbing herself through the tight cloth of her khakis. Filled with the pleasure of her growth and the additional pleasure she was giving to her forbidden regions, she screamed in ecstacy and her body shook in orgasm as it suddenly shot up another foot in a matter of seconds.

I looked back at the waitress, wearing nothing but the miniskirt which was now only an inch below her crotch, still growing to a height of eight and a half feet, closing rapidly on nine. She was enjoying this every bit as much as Chrissy was.

Chrissy alone was bad enough, but two women growing to a hieght of God only knows how much with the same attidtude Chrissy was expressing was too much too handle. I had to stop this somehow, And my brain finally won the battle it had been fighting with my cock since I spoke with the doctor. I knew what I had to do, and I did it.

"Chrissy!," I shouted, hoping she would hear me above the music which the DJ, who was cowering behind his mixing console, had left on repeat. I was rewarded with her enormous face looking down at me.

"Look at yourself! This isn't possible!" I shouted. "Those pills weren't even real! They couldn't make you grow like this! They were just placebos! Sugar pills!"

Both Chrissy and the waitress stopped their dancing and looked at me. Sure enough, the spell was broken, and their growth came to an abrupt halt. The waitress looked shocked, but Chrissy just looked pissed.

"What the hell are you talkig about?," Chrissy said as she glared down at me. She was not happy to have her growth interupted by some pipsqueak trying to tell her it wasn't possible. "Look at me!" She looked into the faces of the people in the balcony. "Am I, or am I not, growing?" Heads bobbed up and down in silent, unanimous agreement, but doubt tainted her voice.

"You may be growing, but it isn't because of the pill. It's all in your head."

I looked over at the waitress to see what effect my words were having on her. Slowly, her head began to sink, and her body began returning to it's original size. she continued to shrink until she was once again at the height that pubescent growth spurts had allowed her to reach when she was in high school, and not an inch more. Her eyes were wide with fear as she looked around at he people staring at her, and then down to her own exposed body. Her hand flew in front of her body, trying to cover up the parts of her body she would normally only show to her boyfriend, and she kneeled down to pick up the pile of rags at her feet that had been torn from her body by it's miraculous expansion. She held the bundle of cloth in front of her breasts and ran into the women's bathroom crying.

I returned my attention to Chrissy, although her size had not changed any more, either up or down. She looked around her, a hint of fear in her eyes as she softly said "What's happening to me?"

"It was all in your mind," I said. "You grew because it's what you thought would happen. Remember How huge you got in your bedroom and at the hospital, only to shirnk down? Your mind knew it was impossible to grow to that size, so you couldn't maintain it. You went down to a size that was at least achievable for a human body after each time."

"But. I've been so hungry! I must have been growing, and needed to eat so much to get bigger!" Chrissy said softly.

"No," I told her. "That's just what you thought would happen, and so that's what did. The pill isn't making you grow."

The amazon continued to stare down at me. "So, I just grew because I wanted to, and I thought I could..." The worried look on her face was replaced by a smile and she laughed. "I always said smoking pot opened up parts of your mind you'd never use otherwise. Look what it did to me." As realizatio became more clear, you could almost hear the click of a deadbolt in her mind being thrown open, my speech having been the necessary key to unlock it.

She had been standing stock still, but now there was movement on her massive frame as it began changing size.

But, to my horror, she wasn't shrinking like the waitress did. Instead, her body began to continue its ascent.



Part 12

Ever since my discovery that Chrissy's condition was psychosomatic, I had concentrated on my belief that she only grew because she thought she was taking growth pills, and explaining to her that they were placebos, that I had not considered the effect other parts of my assumption would have. As Chrissy looked down at me with eyes that were fifteen feet above ground level and still rising, she took pleasure in pointing out that flaw.

"So, what you're saying, is that I 'm growing just because I want to? And the only reason I went back to six feet or seven feet or whatever tall was because I thought it was impossible to be a true giant?"

A shiver ran down my spine.

"Then, if I really am growing by sheer willpower alone, then there should be no reason I can't stay at whatever height I stop at? Hell, at first I was pissed, but now I'd like to thank you for explaining the true possibilities that lay before me."

That having been said, she once again turned her attention to the music and her expanding body. I hoped that deep down, she might still think it was impossible to get so big, but I knew that I had blown it big time. She was enjoying this so much that even if she did possess some doubt, her lust for the power and sensations she received from her growth would be more than enough to override it.

Her dance continued, bulges appearing in every man's pants as he watched, some of them even getting wet spots on their crotches. But she wasn't even paying attention to her audience now. She was totally absorbed in her growth, her hands sliding up and down, caressing every inch of her body, exploring the massive form that was increasing through her sheer willpower alone. As she rose higher and higher in the room, her clothes once again began to struggle to keep up with her bodily expansion. Her khakis semmed to be doing the best job of keeping up with her, but even they were slowly sliding higher and higher up her thigh, the ends becoming more and more ragged as their seams began splitting under the pressure of her enormous thighs.

Her shirt had more difficulty in keeping up, however. The sleeves of her flannel ripped around her shoulders, but the remaining tubes of cloth refused to slide off her arm as they were squeezed tightly in place. The seams of the sleeves, which now covered only her bicep, leaving both elbow and shoulder bare, began to split at the highest point of her arm muscle. The rip ran outwards to the edges of the fabric, accelerating as it went. Once it was all the way across the ragged remnants of the sleeves fell to the floor. As her body expanded wider and wider, the remnants of the flannel were pulled more and more to her back. As the cloth was pulled tightly against her arms in the ragged holes that indicated where the sleeves had once been attached, threads began giving way, snapping and tearing, as the openings were ripped longer and longer, until the front of the shirt was pulled even with the front of her shoulders. As the last of the fabric was torn through, it fell to the floor to meet with it's previous compnents.

The only part of her clothing that seemed to be succeeding in keeping up with her growth was the white cotton tee shirt, which was more elastic and thus had an easier time accomodating her expanding girth, although it, too, was now stretch to the point of translucency, and the sleevs had torn off in much the same way as those of her flannel. The tee shirt was hugging her like a second skin, jutting out like a shelf at the enormous round bulges of her chest, then pulled tightly again against the smooth flesh of her sTomach underneath her gigantic bosum.

The hypnotic dance she had been performing had resulted in her moving out from the center of the dance and towards the balconies. Wood cracked and splintered as her slowly gyrating hips bumped against the balcony which was now at the same height as they were.

Screams from the people she had almost knocked off the balcony reminded her she was not alone in the room, and she looked down once again at her audience. Deciding to give them a really great show, she bent forward, leaning way down until her hands her on the floor, her legs still standing straight, holding her ass at a height which was now above that of the balcony and still rising. As she dipped down, her gigantic face smiled at the people on the dance floor.

Now don't get me wrong- When I said Chrissy's brasts had grown even more of the rest of her body, I don't mean they became disgustingly large or artificial looking. She was still no Dolly Parton. I'm no expert on sizing bras, but I would guess that if she were still five feet tall, they'd have maybe been 35 D or something thereabouts. But she had grown so large now, that as her chest was lowered into our view, it was wider than I was tall. She jiggled her massive breasts from side to side, and tried to lean even further down to show off her blue ribbon chest.

But bending her body further resulted in just too much strain for her overstressed tee shirt to handle. It was pulled so tightly that it began tearin, first in the back, then rips climbed up the sides. Even this was not enough to allow it to relieve all the strain put on it by her massive chest, and a hole ripped in the front of it right over her luscious cleavage. As soon as the hole formed, the fabric was weakened to an irrepairable point, and the rip rapidly spread fom side, letting breasts the size of recliners spill out into the room. The neck of her teeshirt was pulled around her neck so tightly that it seemed she would suffocate, but, within seconds, that, too, began to rip and give way. As the last remnants of her shirts drifted to the floor like autumn leaves, I stared at the sight of her chest, now covered by the largest, sexiest black silk and satin lace brassier I had ever had the pleasure of seeing on a living woman. It, too, was straining under the sheer weight of the breasts it was trying to support.

As her breasts continued to push outwards and upwards, confined by the cups of the bra, they also found themselves pressing against its shoulder straps. The long, black strips of fabric that went up over her breasts and shoulders were pressing deep into the flesh of her soft, supple, and utterly enormous tits, forming long, deep dimples in the surface. Strained to the point of collapse, these, two, now snapped,

The look on Chrissy's face could have just as well been an exclamation point written on a piece of paper. No matter what other changes her personality had experienced, and even despite the dance she had just performed, she was no exhibitionist. She looked at her own chest with fear as her breasts pushed forward, outward, and upward over her bra, which was still held around her back by the straps that ran around her chest underneath her breasts. However, the fabric at the tops of the cups had torn along the points weakened by the tearing of the shoulder straps, and it began fraying and creeping down the same way her trouser legs had been riding up her thighs.

Chrissy began to stand up again, and as her breasts were lifted in front of me, I could see that the botTom of her bra was also fraying. The fabric of the cups was now only halfway up her breasts, keeping her nipples covered but exposing most of the rest of the flesh of her breasts, squeezing them tightly together in a line of cleavage that would make the horniest of men faint with desire, pink flesh showing through the lace that had somehow managed to find a way to deal with the stresses it was suffering.

However, her modesty seemed to have regained control, as what little remained of her clothing, (that being only her khakis that had been reduced to a pair of Daisy Duke shorts and her tattered bra), was no longer ripping and appeared to be growing at the same rate she was.

She had been standing up slowly, my guess being that she did it for effect. However, She never made it all the way up, for while she was still leaning far down, her head bumped against the pressed tin of the ceiling. No longer able to stand up in a room with a thirty foot high roof, she instead sat on the floor, her knees pulled in front of her. She was hugging her legs close to her, trying to make herself as small as possible, but the sound of metal slapping against the hardwood floor announced that once again her head had bumped against the ceiling. She tilted it as far forward as possible, merely trying to delay the inevitable. Her body was now filling most of the dance floor, and people were slowly backing away to make room for her ever increasing frame. They all walked in a trance however, shuffling slowly backward as their gazes were transfixed on the woman before them. This was not my first time witnessing a woman growing to enormous stature, so it held neither novelty nor surprise, and I probably had a better idea of what was going to happen than the vegetables who were all around me gawking at Chrissy. I turned and ran out the door into the street, but not one of those poor souls followed me.



Part 13

Everything almost seemed normal out on the street. I hadn't realized how smoky and stifling the air inside the bar was until I got my first breath of the cleanoutside air. A cool breeze blew off lake Michigan and cleansed both my lungs and my head. The effect was so strong that I almost beleived the events of the bar were just another trip. But I sure as hell wasn't going to go back in there to find out.

I walked into the middle of the street and looked around. Technically, this wasn't really downtown Evanson, which was home to several steel and glass high rise office buildings and various other modern miracles of architecture. This was just a strip of stores, bars, and restaurants that thrived by catering to the proffessors who lived in the snobby nice nieghborhoods to the north and the students who lived off campus in the somewhat less classy houses to the south. It looked like your average Main Street USA, a nice little two lane street lined with sidewalks that had trees planted in barrels and little stores with large glass display windows showing off their wares. Lampposts jutted out of the sidewalk every couple dozen feet, bathing the street empty streetin an orange and yellow glow on this Monday evening.

I looked at my watch and discovered it was only 9:30, although after the events in the bar it seemed as if hours, if not days, had to have passed. I shook my head. All that in forty five minutes. I walked up and down the street, enjoying the air uncertain of what I should do. I looked up into the clear night sky. She stars were crisp, bright, sharp points of light, looking both cold and yet intesnse enough to burn your retinas if you stared at them long enough. The evening seemed to normal, so perfect, that I started identifying constellations.

I was trying to find Jupiter when A noise coming fro the alley next to Stub's distracted me. A clanking, ceramic sounding noise, like a coin bouncing off a blackboard or a stack of porcelein tiles being moved around. Two seconds later, the sound was repeated, then again and again. I walked along the street, keeping on the opposite side from the bar, until I was lined up with the alley and could peer into it. The clankings continued, and I saw a black form fallig to the alley. I looked up to where it had come from, and realized that the slate tiles were sliding off the roof of Stub's and falling into the alleyway.

The clanking turned into a crash as several dozen tiles all fell to the alley at once. Then the noise of falling slate was replaced by a creaking, groaning noise.

It was the ancient timbers of the rafters of Stub's ceiling, squeaking and complaining as they were forced to shift from the places they had occupied for decades, being forced upward. There was a loud, sustained sound, halfway between cloth tearing and a nail squeaking as it's pulled out of a piece of wood, and then the rafters of Stub's bar were no longer underneath the roof, but sticking out of it, pointing up into the sky like the ribcage of a dead oxen on some desert on a Western trail, pieces of plywood and house wrapping hanging loosely off them and flapping in the breeze like decaying meat stuck to the previously mentioned bones. And in the center of the debris was a dark, curly mass, dust clinging to it, and I knew at once it was Chrissy's hair.

From my vantage point across the street, it was difficult to see exactly what was going on up on the flat roof of Stub's, but the brilliant moonlight of the clear evening illuminated it enough for me to see first one, then two, the three, and four enormous fingers slide up through the roof alongside Chrissy's hair. Once her hands were poking up into the night sky high enough for the roof to be halfway up her palms, the hands began pushing away from her hair. As she forced the opening wider, her head began to rise through the hole, hair, then forehead, eyes, nose, mouth, and chin. The head, which was larger than a van, continued, and the neck that was supporting it also rose through the opening, followed by her shoulders.

Then, for a second, Chrissy stopped. Judging by the size of the features she was exposing, she had to still be on her knees inside the building. Her hands were all the way to the walls of the building now, and she lifted them out, turning them over in the air so that instead of pressing against the sides of the walls, she was pushing down on them. Her arm muscles flexed as she pushed down, trying to lift her body free of the ruined bar. Another set of slate tiles crashed to the ground as the roof in front of her was ripped up and lifted high into the sky, supported by her breasts. Now that most of the roof had been removed, she was able to continue standing at a faster rate.

She lifted her hand off the wall as she finally rose to her full height.

Chrissy's torso and upper body towered over the bar, the outside walls of which seemed to be at about the same hieght as her hips. It was then that I noticed the muffled screams and sobbing of all the bargoers who had been caught in the shower of debris from the collapsing roof.Chrissy turned towards the alley, her torso sliding along as she walked to the edge of the building.

She stopped, scowling, and a voice louder than the speakers at an Iron Butterfly concert and bearing the sweet hint of femininity boomed out through the still night air. "Damn! I stubbed my toe!"

Chrissy moved mack a pace or two. I saw her hips sway as she pulled a leg back and sent a mighty kick into the brick wall of the building. I heard several bricks tumble down, but the wall did not fall.

"Get out of my fucking way!" Chrissy shrieked, and she let an even more forceful kick loose on the wall. Weakened from her first assault, the wall collapsed in a cloud of dust. Chrissy walked out and into the center of the street. concrete buckling under her bare feet, although she either didn't notice or didn't mind. She placed her hands on her hips and looked over at the bar.

"Hmmm. You'd think a brick wall would go down easier," she said to no-one in particular. Then she was me, standing there in the street, staring up at her.

She wasn't so big that I was incosequential. Having never played with Barbies in my childhood, this guess could be off, But I'd say I was about the size of a ken doll to her, maybe a little smaller. She had no difficulty in recognizing me from her lofty vantage point.

"Hey Jake!" she said. "What do you think?" she gestured along her body with hands bigger than tables. "I'm a little dissapointed myself, but what ya gonna do?"

I have to say, whatever she felt about her body, I was not the least bit dissapointed. There, standing in front of me, was the Chrissy I had lusted over for almost two years, 70 feet tall but in almost perfect proportion, looking exactly like she always had, except for the larger chest and the revealing wardrobe.

As she stood there in the street, one foot planted firmly in each lane, I was overcome with te urge to just run up to her and start humping those gorgeuosly bulging, rounded calves that were taller than I was, the way a horny dog greets his master when he returns from a day at the office. But before I had a chance to run to her, Chrissy began moving, dropping to her knees and then slowly leaning forward as she lay down in the middle of the street. She supported her torso with her arms, which slid forward along the sidewalk as she lowered herself down until her face was just above street level.

There she lay, arms on either sidewalk and her body making it impossible for traffic to pass, not that there was any. I tried to look along her side, and saw those round calves rising up into the night sky, massive mounds of flesh higher than my waist. Her hips were slightly wider than the street and were bumping against lampposts that no longer were lit and were bent at drunken angles.

The last time I took note of the size of her breasts, they were roughly six feet wide. Now, cleavage higher than my shoulders rose up from the centerline of the road. Although I'm certain Chrissy thought she was letting them rest gently on the road, blacktop buckled and cracked into craters under each of her breasts, as they now had to weigh several tons each.

Of all the fantasies I had ever had about giant women, staring down the cleavage of a giantess laying in the middle of a street, her shoulders stretching from storefront to storefront, was the one I had the most often, and received the most pleasure from. Thus it was that when I saw her there, I got such a raging hard-on that I thought my cock would start poking me in the chin. My sTomach was in knots, tied up too tight to vomit, although I felt as if I wanted to. The string in my legs gave, and I crumpled to my knees in front of my goddess.



Part 14

Chrissy looked down at me, grinning and showing teeth the size of a dime store paperback. Her hot breath stank of beer as it blew past me when she spoke.

"How's it going down there, little guy?," she asked.

Her head and chest seemed to be coming towards me, her breasts digging up small trenches in the pavement as they slid along the road. Glass storefront windows shattered as her hips expanded wider than the sidewalk and crashed through the fronts of the White Hen Pantry on one side and the comic book shop on the other, signalling that she was still growing.

"Chrissy- look- you've got to stop this! You can't go on like this! Where will you sleep? What will you eat? What happens when people find out? Imagine what they'll do to you! Where are you gonna hide? Only placde you'd fit would be a goddamn aircaft hangar, and I think they'd notice you at O'Hare."

"Listen, Jake. This is the BEST FUCKING THING that's EVER happened to me! There's no damn way I'm gonna give this up. And I promise you, anyone tries to mess with me, there's gonna be trouble, and I mean BIG trouble."

Before I had the chance to continue the argument, however, red and blue lights danced on the walls along the street and a siren blared. Two cop cars and an ambulance swerved around a corner and out into the street. Tires squealed as they locked their wheels.

The vehicles emptied as the emergency personel emptied into the street. Four cops and two EMTs stood in the street, ataring at Chrissy.

"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!" she bellowed.

The cops recovered surprisingly quickly from their stunned silence. One of them uttered, "Damn- if she's on the basketball team, we're gonna have one hell of a season."

Another cop, evidently the one in charge, was not in such a jocular mood. Ignoring the immediate threat of the giantess, he began shouting orders at the others. "Get your heads together! There's injured people in that building! You three- cover her!" The two EMTS dashed to the ruined bar. Three officers ran up behind them and dropped into firing position in the street, guns raised at Chrissy. The one who shouted the order stayed back, crouching behind the open door of his patrol car.

"You! Young man! Get away from her!" he yelled at me.

"I don't think so, officer. This one's mine!" Chrissy said as she got up. She picked me up with a hand as wide as my torso as she stood.

"Put him down or we open fire!" the officer shouted at Chrissy.

"Nobody tells me what to do now," Chrissy said menacingly.

Held high above street level, I could now see down into the ruins of the bar. Dozens of people lie on the floor bleeding, some moving, some still. I received a lesso in architecure as I saw the cross section of the demolished wall. I had assumed walls were pretty much solid, but from this view I could see broken electrical conduits with trailing wires hanging out of them. Several broken pipes were gushing water up, trying to send the liquid to fixtures that were no longer attatched. Other broken pipes were not spilling water, but instead appeared to be waving and squiggling around like the horizon on a humid July afternoon. "Gas!" I thought. I tried to yell a warning, but my voice was covered by the police sergeant's shout of "Open fire!"

I don't know how many shots were fired. If any hit Chrissy, she showed no sign of distress. But, as triggers were pulled and gunpowder exploded to propell the lead balls forward, I could see flashes of fire jumping out the muzzles of the pistols. That is, until one of those flashes ignited the leaking cloud of gas. After that, all of Stub's and the street in front of it were obscured in a tremendous fireball. Chrissy leapt back as flames licked her legs. After the fireball dissapated, all that remained of Stubs was a smoking pile of bricks, small fires still burning here and there. Five smoking corpses lay in the street. I remembered those moaning bleeding victims of Chrissy's artificial earthquake and tried to be happy that they were at least put out of their misery.

Chrissy set me down in the street, then stood once again. Hands on her hips, she looked around at the street below her. "This town ain't big enough for the both of us, sherrif," she said in a pretty bad impersonation of the Duke. "Don't worry. I'll mosey on along. Gotta find me a bigger town. Someplace a girl can stretch her legs." She turned and started walking eastward. I turned to watch her go as she began walking toward Lake Michigan. My hands were pulled behind my back and a metallic click announced that I was now handcuffed by the policeman who had stayed back and escaped the blast. He shoved me roughly into the back seat of his squad car and we began down the street, following the gigantic woman as she walked towards the lake.

A mile down the road from Stub's, the road ended in a parking lot that led to the public beach. Chrissy was already in the water, her body dipping lower into the water as she waded through the increasingly deeper water. When she was in up to her shoulders, she turned and began walking south, still sinking. I didn't have to waste any time trying to figure out where she was heading. South of Evanston lay a virtual playground for someone of Chrissys demeanor and stature- the city of Chicago.

The policeman left me in the backseat as he got out of the car and walked out into the parking lot. He pulled his pistol and took a few potshots at Chrissy as her head slowly sank beneath the waves.

With a cry of "Shit!," he returned to the car.

"You've got some explaining to do, kid," he told me as we drove off to the cop shop.

I was seated at a desk with a bored looking clerk at a typewriter taking down my vital stats.

"Name?," he asked without looking up.

"Jacob Edward Williams," I said as my eyes darted around the room. What was going to ahppen to me? I imagined the cracks forming along the line where the ceiling met the wall, giant gingers punching through and lifting the roof, Chrissy staring down into the room, reaching in, picking me up, and rescuing me from a fate that included being some guy named Bubba's new Saturday night thing for the next ten to fifteen. But, as I looked around the room, no such event took place. Instead of the sounds of giant hands rendering the building asunder, I heard only the clicking of the clerk's typewriter and muffled, angry shouts from behind the closed oor where the officer who had taken me in had disappeared to.

"Address?" asked the clerk.

I put my mouth into autopilot, devoting as small a portion of my brain as possible to answering the urbane questions. The rest of my attention was focused on trying to figure out what was being said behind that closed door.

We were on my parent's phone number when the office door opened and the chief of police asked me to follow him inside.

"But, sir, I'm not done yet," whined the clerk.

"That can wait. Now, Mr. Williams, will you come in here, please?"

The clerk, upset that it was decided something was more important than his menial task, ripped the form from his typewriter and wadded it into a ball, throwing it into the trash can at the side of his desk. I followed the chief into his office for questioning.



Part 15

"Now, son, the first thing I want you to know is, you're not in ay trouble," the chief said in a fatherly tone of voice.

"Not yet, at least," added the cop who had brought me in.

"If you're going to play good cop, bad cop, I want a lawyer," I said.

"That won't be necessary. You're not under arrest, you're not even under suspicion for anything. You're just a witness to a crime scene, so don't worry," the chief said.

"Yeah, a witness who seemed to be pretty freindly with that woman," the other cop said angrily.

"Just tell us what happened tonight as best you can," the chief told me.

What was I supposed to say? That my roomate had grown into an eighty foot tall giantess, destroyed a bar, and was now hiding somewhere in Lake Michigan? I could have, of course. It was, after all the truth. And, from what I was able to understand of the argument between the chief and the other cop, I figured that the other cop had already told a version of the story that would collaborate mine. But the shouting, and that officer's red face, also told me that that story hadn't gone over very well the first time. So, it was a choice of either sounding like a crazy man and backing this cop up, or lying. No contest.

"Well," I began. "I was at Stub's for a while, when this tall chick walked in. she started causing trouble with some guy, and a little later, an couple officers of the peace (I almost giggled as I tried to prevent myself from saying "fuzz") came in and started talking to her. She took some kind of pills out of her pocket and knocked him down. When that happened, I left the bar. I didn't want no trouble."

"Did anyone else leave the bar with you?" the cheif asked.

"No. I don't like fights, but most of the other people were crowding around the chick and the other officer when I left. I figured they were probably looking for a fight, and I wanted to leave before it got out of hand."

"What happened after you left the bar?"

"I walked around for a while. It was nice, so I enjoyed the fresh air."

"Weren't you worried the fight might spill out into the street?"

"I guess so. But I'd been drinking, so I didn't want to go to my car yet."

"So, You were out in the street, and that's when officer Buchman picked you up?"

"No, he ignored me at first. They all went in the bar. He walked back out right away, and then the whole place exploded."

"It just, exploded, you say?" the officer asked, leaning forward.

"Look! I ain't no arsonist!" I said, the first truthful statement I'd made since entering the office.

"No, no, I wasn't suggesting you were. But the buidling was, um, completely intact before it blew up?"

"Near as I could tell," I said.

Officer Buchman's face was red. "That's not how it happened!," he shouted.

"You've already given your report, Buchman. I'm asking Mr. Williams now. So, son, why do you suppose officer Buchman left the building before it exploded?"

"No idea. Maybe he found a bomb or something. He was shouting something about a big chick was he ran out. Then the building blew up, he cuffed me, and brought me here."

Officer Buchman stewed silently as the chief asked me to describe the woman at the bar.

"Well, she had dark borwn hair and green eyes. Fair complexion. I think she was wearing shorts and a white shirt of some kind."

"So, when you saw her, she was wearing a shirt, and not just a bra?"

"No, sir. Trust me, I would have noticed."

"And, Mr. Williams," the chief leaned further over the desk, in a conspiratorial manner. "How tall would you say this woman was?"

"Oh, pretty tall. I did't get close to her, but I'd guess at least six feet, could have been a little more."

"He's a fucking LIAR!," shouted officer Buchman.

"Buchman! You've been warned!" snapped the chief. Then, the friendliness returning to his voice, he spoke once again to me. "Six feet, you say? Not...," he looked down at the report he held. "Eighht feet?" He smiled and looked towards Buchman.

"Well, she might have been a little taller. But I'd say no more than 6'3""

"So, there was no giant woman standing half naked in the street?"

I let out what I thought to be a pretty convincing laugh. "Well, now I know what you guys do with the stuff you confiscate after a drug bust," I said.

"Umm, I am assuming you mean dispose of it properly and safely, as we of course always do," the chief said, a little nervously.

Buchman's rage was uncontainable. "I'm telling you, a fucking giant woman trashed that bar!"

The chief looked at another paper on his desk. "Well, according to the prelimanry investigation by the fire marshall, the buidling was destroyed by a gas explosion." He eyed Buchman.

"But that was AFTER she smashed the fucking place!" Buchman screamed.

"You yourself said you didn't actaully see this giant woman destroy the building," the chief did a much better remaining calm then Buchman.

"But she was fucking there!" Buchman said feebly.

"Thank you for your help Mr. Williams, and I;m sorry to take up so much of your time. Buchman, I giving you a month's leave. I suggest you find a good psychiatrist while you're off."

I left the police station and caught a cab. The street was cordoned off around Stub's, and firemen and paramedics were crawling over the rubble like amts on a discarded candy bar. Luckily, I had parked far enough away that my car survived the blast and was outside the border created by the yellow "Police Line- Do Not Cross" tape. I hopped into my trusty Volvo and headed for home. It had been an exciting night, and I was dead tired. I considered looking for Chrissy, but I instead opted for sleep.

I walked into the house and though the living room on my way to my bed. The roommates were still all up, stoned again and watching tv.

"Dude, wher's Chrissy?" asked Brad.

Befor I salmmed the door to my room shut, I answered. "I don't give a fuck. Chrissy can take care of her fucking self."



Part 16

My alarm when off at 7 Tuesday morning. And again at 7:10, and 7:20, and 7:30. At 8, I finally decided to quit hitting the snooze button and start the day. I had skipped both my Calculus and Astonomy lectures the day before, and I doubted I would be going to Psychology or lab today. After showering and getting dressed, I opened the fridge, and it appeared the High Life fairy had come over night. I grabbed a long neck and went into the living room.

Chrissy and I both had our first classes at 9, so I usually drove us both to campus. But she wasn't here to join me in my morning beer. It was possible she had returned to normal height and returned last night after I went to bed last night. It was also possible that an asteroid would crash into the lake and a tsunami would flood out all of Evanston, but neither one seemed to likely.

I turned the tv on to WGN. The Bozo show was on, just ending. Evidentally nothing too urgent was going on in the city, or at least nothing urgent enough for them to interrupt the show with a special news bulletin saying something about a giant woman rampaging through downtown Chicago. So far, so good. But then again, maybe that had been going on for so long in the night that it wasn't considered news any more. Doubtful.

I watched all of Bozo, when I should have been leaving for campus. But instead, I stayed in front of the tv, and watched Channel 9's New at 9. They gave short mention to a gas explosion that destroyed a bar and killed all of its occupants and three police officers in Evanston, but never mentioned the other theory that one police officer gave. I wondered if they had interviewed him, then chosen to ignore his story. What if they got more reports of similair incidents, though? Would they continue to ignore them? I was glad that Chrissy hadn't been discovered, but I had hoped the news would give me some idea where to look for her. The only other story of any notice was that of a charter fishing boat that had washed ashore in the morning, split in two. It must have been battered against some rocks, they said, because the boat was not just broken, but crushed. One of the investigators they interviewed said it looked as if God himself had reached down and closed his fist around it. Evidentally, some rich Chicago businessman had been on the boat and died in the accident, and to WGN that made it more newsworthy than a bar explosion that killed a few dozen college kids over in Evanston, because they devoted a full five minutes to it. Figures, I thought.

I finished off a second beer as the news ended. I shut off the tv, and looked down into the botTom of my glass. I single swallow of warm backwash was all that remained in the bottle. I swirled it around as I looked at the brown glass, my thoughts of Chrissy's current whereabouts. I had no doubt the boat was the second victim of her rage the previous night. Of course, it could also have been the forth or fifth. How many more people had she killed after she left Stub's last night?

I debated grabbing another beer. Drinking alone isn't that much fun. Chrissy hadn't been there to share a morning beer with me. She was always cranky when she woke up until she got her first beer. If she was still the same size I left her at last night, I didn't think she would be able to find a suitable drink to calm her nerves this morning. Still blaming myself for giving her the ability to maintain her tremendous height, I knew I had to do something to stop her. I had no idea where to look, but where could an eighty foot tall woman hide? All I had to go on was the fact she was walking south last night, and looking for a bigger town to play in. I drove to the Park and Ride station and caught the next "L" for Chicago.

I ended up on the new express "L" the CTA had put in. Instead of running through downtown and stopping every block, it ran parallel to the lake shore, with only a few stops in the higher class neighborhoods it passed through.

I sat in the last car of the train. There were two other people with me, business travellers who apparently didn't have to go to work at 9 like the rest of the usual commuters. I stood at the very back of the car, looking alternately out the side and back windows as the train passed over the poorer neighborhoods south of Evanston and north of Chicago. From my vantage point fourty feet above street level, I looked down on the roofs of buildings, and into streets and alleyways, searching for craters, damaged buildings, or smashed pavement, anything that could be read as a sign that said, "Chrissy was here."

Several tumbledown buildings were scattered around, but they all had the look of structures that had been condemned years before and were falling apart from natural decay instead of ones which had just come into contact with the flesh of the largest animal to roam this area since the dinosaurs. If Chrissy had left the lake, she did it further down shore.

I was looking out the back window when one of the passengers, a woman in a smart business suit wearing a hat that looked like it would have been the height of fashion in 1930, said, "What the hell is that?"

I tunred around and looked out the window facing the lake, where she was pointing. Defying gravity, a hill was forming on the surface of the water, reminescent of the top of the ocean as a submarine rises to the surface.

The hill of water broke at the top, a dark mass emerging from the top of it. It woudln't take any great stretch of the imagination to picture that dark mass as a pile of wet, curly hair, becuase that's exactly what it was, and it was moving closer to shore.

As Chrissy continued to walk closer and closer to the edge of the lake, more and more of her became visible. Water cascaded off her huge body in the same manner as the above mentioned submarine. Head, shoulders, breast, stomach, waist, hips, knees, shins, rose up from the lake as she approached us. There was nothing on the lake with which to compare her to, and I've never been good at distances anyways, so I couldn't tell if she had grown any more during the night. I was pretty sure she hadn't shrunk any, though.

She continued walking, reaching the shore in a matter of seconds. She was still to the south of the train, and I craned my neck to try and watch her as she continued westward until the angle became so acute that my view was blocked by the wall of the carriage. Almost immediately after she had passed out of my view, the cabin was filled with the sound of metal sliding against metal, squeaking and grinding as the brakes welded themselves to the wheels of the train. The engineer's voice came over the loudspeaker to announce the reason he had slammed on the brakes, and it wasn't becuase he had missed stop.

His shaking voice announced that the track ahead of us was damaged. He didn't say that it was because a giant woman had just turned the tracks into the world's largest pretzels, but that is the conclusion I, and I'm pretty certain all the other passengers on the train, reached.



Part 17

The train came to a bone-jarring stop. Undoubtedly, the CTA would be seeing a lot of lawsuits claiming whiplash, but at least the train didn't fall off the gap Chrissy tore in the track ahead of us.

The engineer's voice once again came over the loudspeaker, announcing that he would back the train up to the last stop and let us out there. He gave us his assurance that the transit authority would gladly refund our tokens, or give us a free transfer to another train. The woman who was in the car with me began complaining abut the inconvenience and not being able to get to wrok on time, but the other man in the car said he was happy to be alive. They started to get into a heated argument, but I stopped paying attention as a shadow passed by outside the west window.

The train began slowly backing up. The "L" isn't exactly a bullet train when it travels forward, and in reverse it was moving at barely a crawl. Evidentally, the train wasn't equipped with any camera to allow the engineer to see what was behind the train, or he would have stopped once again.

Looking out the back window of the car, I saw what the shadow was that had passed by us a few seconds before was. Chrissy had walked past the train and was now probably a little over a half mile down the track to our rear. She was standing at the side of the track, looking at it, studying it. She of course had to look down at it, as the track, which was about forty feet off the ground, came up to just below her crotch. After a few minutes of careful study, she lifted a leg up high, sticking it out perpendicular to her waist, then planting it in the street on the other side of the track.

Of all the people in the house, Chrissy was the one who enjoyed drugs the most. She was driven by one thing- pleasure. All other things were inconsequential to her in her quest to discover better ways to increase the endorphine levels in her brain. Marijuana was by far her favorite for the sensations of physical pleasure it brought her. But now, at her size, there wasn't a joint in the country that satisfy her, not a beer in the nation that would give her so much as a buzz. Only two things were still available to her to give her a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. The first was growth. The second was the option she chose.

I'd guess that the track was at least ten feet wide. In order to straddle it, she had to bow her legs out slightly to accomodate it's width between her thighs.

Cement cracked and tumbled to the streets below as she squeezed her massive thighs together, crushing the track and the cement platfrom that supported it between them. But she didn't completely destroy the track, she was merely making it narrower, allowing it to fit more comfortably higher up between her legs.

She bent her knees slightly, lowering herself down until the track was pressing firmly against the crotch of her shredded khakis. Then, slowly and deliberately, she began sliding her enormous body back and forth on the track. Lips six feet across slid back on her face, showing her teeth as a smile emerged on her features. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip as she continued using the public transportation's tracks as her own personal phallus.

The train continued crawling towards the giantess. As we closed, I was able to pick out more detail. Twin, parallel black lines showed on her pants, dirt and grime she had rubbed off the track beneath her. I could see her knees begin to bend as they compensated for the new growth spurt her arousal had triggered, always keeping her crotch pressed against the tracks beneath it. Her sliding picked up tempo and moans as loud as air raid sirens rocked the train as she continued trying to satisfy herself through growth and masturbation. Her feet slowly slid backwards on the pavement below them as her legs continued lengthening. The track continued to become narrower and narrower from her vantage point, and the length of the strokes she was making across it with her body had increased to cover regions she had not previously crushed to accomodate herself, but the distance between her legs was now wide enough to encompass the full width of the track without difficulty.

Chrissy continued growing, so tall now that she had to drop to her knees, her thighs alone now the forty feet in length necessary to rise over the tracks. Her lower legs rested horizontally on the street below, calves so long and wide that a city bus could have been parked behind them and remained hidden from view. She was well over 130 feet tall now, but she still didn't seem satisfied with her height.

The train was now almost to her. The rattling locomotive must have been loud enough for her to hear, because she opened her eyes and stopped her movement as she saw us coming towards her.

"Well, high there!" she said, "what a cute little train! Are there really people inside there?"

She leaned down, low over the tracks, trying to peer in through the windows. But she was so large she had difficulty getting low enough to see inside. Chrissy continued to lean forward, bringing breasts over forty feet wide down in front of us, the track directly in the center of her cleavage. The flesh of her mammoth mammaries squeezed upwards as her chest was pressed harder against the track. Cement cracked and steel groaned as it began to give way, yeilding to a human body that weighed more than the entire train. Yet still we continued to move towards her.

And Chrissy continued to lower herself, trying to see into the train. The tracks underneath her chest finally gave way, reinforced conrete and tracks collapsing to the ground, demolishing cars that the owners had left abandoned in the street when they fled on foot from the giantess, fearing their vehicles would be caught in gridlock.

"Ooops! Looks like the bridge is out," Chrissy said, but I couldn't see the mouth from which the words had come. We were so close to her now that the view out the back window of the train was completely taken up with her cleavge, giving the illusion that we were not heading toward our death, but to a tunnel with smooth, curving walls made not out of stone, but of soft, pale flesh. Then, suddenly the view was clear again as she raised herself up, standing to her full height.

Bored with the train, Chrissy stepped off the tracks with much greater ease than she had stepped over them eariler, having now more than doubled in size.

The engineer, having heard what Chrissy had said and realizing the giantess must have been on the tracks behind the train, once again threw on the brakes. This time, the train was moving much more slowly than it had the prevoius time he had taken this course of action, and the resulting decellaration was much less severe. The woman who had been complaining about the first unscheduled stop had nothing to say this time. She was frozen, mouth open, staring out the back window where Chrissy had been.



Part 18

Although the immediate threats of being crushed undernath Chrissy's gigantic body or falling to our death as the train tumbled off the broken tracks were no longer present, we were still stranded on the tracks until someone could find a way to get us down. My plan to locate Chrissy had succeeded, but I was in no position to stop her, and, even if I was, I had no idea how I would go about it.

So I watched, helplessly, as Chrissy walked away, westward. Towards Chicago. News helicopters were flying in circles around her. She swatted at them, like King Kong on the Empire State Building. But the choppers were nimble and agile, easily dodging her half-hearted swings. She did teach them to respect her space, though, and the helicopters slowly moved away, keeping a safer distances between themselves and the giant that was stalking towards town.

Chrissy walked slowly and carefully through streets too narrow to allow her to stand with her legs side by side. Instead, she moved like a tightrope walker, placing one foot directly in front of the other, trying to avoid the buildings that rose up to either side, although after what she did to the "L" tracks, I knew that those obstacles would fall like a house of cards should she decided to go through them instead of around them, and I knew she knew that as well. But Chrissy had never been clumsy or careless, so the buildings remained relatively undamaged. However, Chrissy was also not a very patient person, and it was only a matter of time before she got tired of trying to avoid the buildings and decided instead to walk thorough them, and saying fuck it to anything that got in her way. But at the moment, her patience and her temper held, and she stuck to trying to walk through the streets.

That's not to say she had no impact on her surroundings. Every once in a while, a slightly misplaced step would result in her enormous calves rubbing against the side of a building as they moved forward, sending clouds of smoke and dust out into the street. The street was so narrow to her that this happened more often than not, despite the fact she was trying to keep her feet planted directly in front of one another as she walked. The resulting effect was that all down the street you could see cut-away views of the buildings along the street where her massive calves had smashed away the front facades, allowing you to look in and see individual rooms and the walls dividing them up, looking like a child's dollhouse, or perhaps a series of cubbyholes.

In addition to the havoc her calves were wreaking on the buildings, her feet were chewing up the tarmac below her, asphalt bending and bowing, cracking and sinking as she placed her foot on it, her careful heel-toe heel-toe steps placing all of her considerable weight first entirely on the relatively small area of her heel, exerting enough pressure to create potholes that had previously existed only in the nightmares of road crews.

Once, as she placed her heel down, it appeared to have come down directly on top of a manhole or some other tunnel close to the surface of the road, and instead opf creating just a crater in the road, her foot fell all the way through to the hollow space beneath the street, causing her to lose her balance. She began to fall sideways, shooting out an arm to try and catch herself as she fell. Her outstretched arm located the top of a small tenement building, but even had the slumlord who owned the place spent the money to repair and upgrade the building to meet local building codes, it still would not have been able to support her considerable mass. Her hand rested on the flat roof of the building for a split second before punching through it as if it were wet tissue, and she continued to tumble sideways. As her position became more horizontal then vertical, her legs shot out from beneath her toward her side, smashing trough the condemned storefront on the oppposite side of the street. Her torso crashed through the apartment building she had tried to use to halt her decent, raising a cloud of dust and sedning bricks and timbers soaring into the air. After the dust cleared, she lay there for a moment, her waist and part of her hips in the street, the rest of her body resting on piles of rubble. She looked around at what she had done and smiled.

Dusting herself off, Chrissy once again got to her feet and continued her trek towars Chicago. While she still remained in the street and didn't start taking shortcuts through the buildings tha lay between her and her goal, she also was no longer as careful with her steps, and instead of walking a tightrope, she began walking with normal strides, each step sending her legs crashing through the street facing walls of the buildings lining the avenue. She had even put a little side to side sway in her hips as she walked, making her legs take up even more room on the street.

One thing was certain now. Whatever damage Chrissy caused now was not going to be blamed on gas explosions, and Officer Buchman was probably going to be back at work as soon as the chief turned on tv and saw the news. Perhaps I should have been concerned about the lives and safety of the millions who lived and worked in downtown Chicago, but instead I found myself concerned only with what kind of action the police would take against me.

As if controlled by a communal mind, like a colony of ants, the other passengers on the "L" slowly began to congregate in the rear car of the train, looking out the back window at the mangled ruins of the track Chrissy had created. There were about twenty uf us stranded altogether. Two passengers had slept through Chrissy's emergence from the lake, awakened by the jarring of the train the first time the engineer slammed on the brakes, only to be knocked unconcious as they weer thrown out of their seats when the train stopped, causing them to miss Chrissy's second attaack on the track and her journey through the slums around us. When they were told the story of the giantess who had laid waste to the tracks both in front and behnid us, they adamantly disbelieved us. Trying to prove that our tale of an eighty foot woman who grew to twice that size as she satisfied herself on the tracks was just some kind ofjoke we were playing on them, one of the two pulled a Watchman out of their briefcase. Tuning in to WGN, they said that if there were a giant woman approaching Chicago, it would definately be on the news.

But, as the LCD screen flickered into life, it was not an image of Chrissy that appeared on the screen. Now it was my turn to stand there, mouth agape, as people turned to stare at the man whose face was on the tv. But it wasn't the tv they were staring at. It was me.

The sound faded in, coming up to full volume slightly after the picture had resolved itself. The newsanchor was speaking, while a mug shot of myself was still displayed.

"...are seeking the whereabouts of this man," the voice said. "His name is Jacob Williams, last seen leaving the Evanston fifth district police station last evening. He is believed to have information about the current threat to Chicago, and may possibly be the cause of the current situation. He was apprehended last night following the reported gas explosion at Stub's Bar in Evanston, and released following an investigation during which he lied about his involvement with the woman and gave false testimony regarding the actual cause of the explosion. Once again, police are asking for any help in apprehending this man for questioning..."

The television was turned off as people began moving towards me. You know those old George Romero zombie flicks? You know, the ones where the zombies all walk slowly towards there victim, arms outsretched, expressionless faces slowly saying "brains...must...eat...brains..."? Well, that's the scene that was playing out in the train, as all the passengers began to crowd around me, slowly closing in, not wanting to turn me in to the cops, but instead seeing the cause of their current predicament and seeking only to destroy it.



Part 19

As the crowd closed on me, I looked around for some possible escape route. There were windows all along the side of the train, but I dismissed those for now. The "L" travelled along tracks high above the slums around Chicago, adding to the impression that the business travellers using it for their daily commute were like the pink skinned humans in H.G. Wells' Time Machine, and the residents f the buildings they passed over the Morlocks. And, just like in that story, every once in a while, the Morlock would come up from their dwellings below the "L", but instead of taking a child, they instead took wallets, watches, briefcases and jewelry. As a result, the CTA had bullet proof Lexan windows installed, and if I were to try t jump through them to make my escape, I would succeed only in giving myself a bruised shoulder.

At the back of the train there was an emergency exit, which would probably be a much safer way to leave the train, but a good portion of the throng of angry passengers was between myself and the exit.

As I was considering the options available ot me, the people moved closer and closer. The shock of the experience we had just shared had not worn off on them, and they were still so numb that their movements were none too hurried.

A line from Night of the Living Dead occured to me- "They're so slow... We could walk right past them. We don't even have to run... We could just walk." Well, my mind appeared to have pulled out the right line from the right movie at the right time. I walked towards the people approaching me. Once I reached te line, I broke into a run, trying to push past them. Sure enough, it took them a while to realize that I had moved towards them instead of fleeing them, and I was able to get almost all the way past them. But then they caught on, and turned to chase. The train car wasn't very long, and I figured I was home free. I made a dive for the emergency exit, but fell somewhat short. I grimaced as I landed on my palms and they stuck to the floor. I lifted them off the ground, making quiet sucking soudns as I pulled them off a floor that was even nastier than a movie theater's. I got to my knees and reached for the emergency exit release knob, yanked it down, and tumbled out the door.

The other passengers were right behind me as I landed on the tracks and began running. But the track ended not more than ten yards in front of me, destroyed by Chrissy's' libidinous actions.

I searched around, my head scanning back and forth, my eyes jumping around in their socktes huntedly as I searched for an escape route from the mob behind me. When you're on a train track forty feet above street level, there's only one way to go- down. To my left, just to the side of the tracks, was a building which had miraculously avoided Chrissy's onslaught. Three storys high, flat roof topped with gravel.

With the arrogance that is only found with youth and an amount of stupidity that is even more rare, I said to myself, "Hell, if Jackie Chan can do it..."

Of course, Jackie Chan is a trained professional with years of experience and a certain natural talent which few possess. I, on the other hand, am a physics geek who smokes two packs a day and hasn't set foot inside a gymnasium since before I could drive.

Oh, that's not to say I didn't make it. I wouldn't be telling you this story if I didn't. But the landing left much to be desired. I hit the gravel and rolled ten feet, tumbling over the loose rocks, shredding my pants, my shirt, and my pride. My knees were skinned, my elbows bleeding, and there was a strange buzzing behind my eyes that felt like someone had stuck a massaging wand in my ear and turned it on its fastest setting. But I was alive. The crowd remained on the tracks behind my, warms waving, voices shouting, and generally looking unhappy. but none of them were willing to try and jump over to my position. Several of them had pulled out cel phones, deciding if they couldn't get me themselves they'd at least let the cops know where I was. I ran to the other side of the building and down the fire escape, my head slwoly coming around to only its normal sensations.

I ran down the street, past abandoned cars , the only thought in my mind being the question of whether I should locate Chrissy or just try and hide from the cops. I had run maybe a block, and my lungs were burning from the inside out.

The streets were filled with cars people had deserted as they fled the giantess. UPS trucks, Geos, limosouines, all were left unoccupied as people ran on foot to avoid getting caught in traffic. And what was this? A motorcycle. A sweet little Suziki number that someone had even been so kind as to leave the keys in.

I jumped on the bike, started it up, and sped towards downtowon Chicago, the bike nimbly dodging to the left and right as I weaved past the empty cars clogging the roadways.

Soon, I came to a road where I was faced with another obstacle- a pothole that would swallow a minivan. And further down the street, another one, and yet another. Chrissy had come this way. The bike dodged chunks of tamac and concrete as I avoided the craters Chrissy's feet had created as I sped closer to Chrissy.

As I drove into Chicago proper, I was stopped by a man in a national guard uniform. The street in front of me was cordoned off, filled with military and police vehicle of all shapes and sizes. And armoured personnel carrier was trundling down the street, its huge wheels ignoring the ruins of the street as it crawled over chunks of asphalt that had been torn up as Chrissy had walked through it. The national guard man waved me down a side street which was packed with cars, their drivers shouting obscenities and honking horns in a futile attempt to convince the cars in front of them to move faster.

Figuring the police were to occupied with other matters than to enforce traffic laws, I drove the bike up onto the sidewalk and sped past the other motorists. In breaks between the buildings where more streets joined the one I was on, I saw a never ending stream of APCs and police cars moving towards Michigan Avenue, reminding me of the end of Blues Brothers.

I was once again stopped by a national guard soldier, this one who stopped to talk to me instead of just waving me past. Luckily, he didn't recognize my face from the newscast.

"Sorry, kid," said the sldier, who couldn't have been more than 25 years old. "This route's blocked. You're gonna have to stay in town. We got a shelter set up by the Museum of Science and Industry. She doesn't seem to be heading in that direction, at least not yet. We're sending refugees there."

Refugee? Is that what the citizens of Chicago were being called now? I had to find Chrissy, but I decided it might be better to find out more of what was going pn first. I drove on to the museum. The parking lot was packed, CTA busses were moving in and out, dropping off an unending stream of passengers. I went in through the IMAX entrance to see if I could get some news on Chrissy's current actions and whereabouts.



Part 20

There was a large screen television set up in the IMAX theater. People were filling the seats and crowding the aisles, all trying to get the latest information on the destruction of their beloved city.

Aftr much puching and shoving, I was able to get to a position where, if I wasn't comfortable, I was at least able to see the screen. Someone had patched the television through the IMAX's sound system, so hearing it was no problem, but words of the comentator as he tried to sound cool and collected despite his fear were not of interest to me.

The screen showed Chrissy. The camera crew was apparently se up on the roof of another building near her, as the view was at about waist height to her. The camera moved off of Chrissy's abdomen and swung slowly around to show the amassed military surrounding her. The streets were so full it almost looked as if police cars APCs, and tanks were parked on top of each other. Chicago Police boats were shown going down the river, lights flashing and horns blaring as they tried to clear a few people out of the city who had taken their boats into the waterway to try and avoid the roadblocks and get a glimpse of the giantess. SWAT team snipers were perched on the roofs of nearbey buildings, each with a rifle trained on Chrissy. The camera moved back to cover her, and I could see hundreds of red dots on her sTomach as laser sights stayed focused on her body, although she was such a large target that anyone who couldn't hit her without even using the standard sight on their rifle should have been kicked out of the military a long time ago.

I tried to figure out if Chrissy had grown any more, but decided not. Now that she was downtown, she was surrounded by buildings that still towered over her, making her 150 feet of height seem almost insignificant.

The camera then panned down to show her incrdible, and incredibly large, legs as she walked down Michigan Avenue. The street had been cleared of traffic, but every once in a while there was a police car parked, some occupied, some empty, which Chrissy took great relish in desroying beneath her foot. After the first time a car was shown with it's occupants still inside, struggling to get out as she brought her sole down on the cruiser, the camera moved up to show her face and stayed there, instead of relaying the death and destruction she was bringing.

Chrissy looked pissed. Her face was set in an angry grimace, lips pulled back and tight as she refused to grace those around her with a word. She continued onward, never halting, never slowing. She turned down a few different streets, the producers of the news program switching from one camera to the next as she moved into and out of their fields of view, some on roofs, some in choppers. The views they had been showing of her face and shoulders (someone had decided not to show her chest, although she was wearing a bra and thus could be considered no more obscene than anything else they show'ed during daytime commercials) did not allow me to tell where she was going, but the announcers voice suddenly went up several decibels as he shouted. "Oh my God! She's headed for the Maypor's office!"

The view returned to street level outside the marble and glass structure that was City Hall. Chrissy towered over the five story structure, but she dropped to her knees, and leaned over the structure, thighs and waist on the east side of the building, breasts and arms clear on the other side. Then Chrissy broke her voluntary vow of silence.

"Mayor," she said, her voice causing the panes of glass in the windows of City Hall to visibly shake in their frames. "We have much to discuss. Although I'm not a resident of your fair city, I am a tourist with some ideas you may find it worth your while to discuss."

Then, she began to slowly lower herself over the building. Her abdomen and the bra-clad portion of her breasts resting none too gently on the roof, sending bricks ond mortar to the street below. People began rushing out of the building. The camera zommed in on the rush of human bodies as they fled the decaying structure. Finding it's target, the camera stayed on one man in a business suit- the mayor.

He opened his mouth to talk, but the camera was to far away to pick out his words. Either he was also to quiet for Chrissy to hear, or she just wasn't interested in what he had ot say, because her voice cut through once again as she spoke.

"First of all," she thundered, "I think the roads need a little work." The view switched to a camera to show Chrissy's smiling face as she spoke. "And it seems the buildings to be in an equally dismal state of decay. What's more, you seem to have an overzealous law enforcement agency. Their presence is not only annoying," she lowered herself further onto the building, taking out the fourth floor," "But it's making me a little angry. If you truly do care as much about this city as you do about your government job or pension, I suggest you abdicate immediately, and allow me to take over running things. If you refuse," a pause and an evil smirk, "I don't think you or most of the cities residents will live long enough to enjoy it."

Chrissy didn't wait for an answer, but continued, "I understand people have been sent to the Museum of Science and Industry. Maybe I'll just go there and meet my new subjects. Oh, and by the way, whoever is in charge of emergency management, you should tell them it's very unwise to put all their eggs in one basket."

With that, she got up and began walking southwest, towards the museum that was packed with refugees.

The IMAX was complete chaos. Upon hearing Chrissy's ominous announcement that she would be paying us a visit, the crowd began running for the doors. Chivalry gave way to cowardice as the elderly and the infirm, the young and the ones about to bear young, were all trampled in the mad rush to escape the giantess' impending arrival.

I must admit, I was one of those in the mad dash to the outside world. I was happily surprised to find the bike I had borrowed still there, and even still standing. I jumped on it and started away again, no longer interested in finding Chrissy, Chicago's new self-proclaimed Empress.

With the streets closed, everyone was looking for another way out of town. some traffic was headed to Midway, some to O'Hare. I decided instead to go to Union Station, feeling it might be safer to move towards the areas of town Chrissy had already been than to go to locations she had yet to visit.

Union Station was almost as full as the museum had been, both with people who had had the same idea I had and travellers who found their trains delayed by a reason they would have been hard pressed to imagine in a thousand years.

I scanned around the crowd idly, inside the cavernous waiting area. The only windows were svereal stories aboce floor level, so I would not be able to see Chrissy coming until she had broken down a wall. I didn't know if that was a curse or a blessing.

In the mass of faces I saw one that I recognized, although it took me a while to remember where from. Once again, I wasn't sure if it was a curse or a blessing.



Part 21

Before I even picked the girl out of the crowd at Union Station, she saw me and approached

Maybe it took me a while to recognize the face because I'd only seen her once before. Maybe it's because I thought she was dead. Or maybe it's because the last time I saw her she had been 5'6" and now stood six feet tall.

Back at Stub's, when the waitress shrunk back down to her normal size, she was so embarrassed by what had happened that she burst into tears and ran into the bathroom, trying to hold the shredded remains of her clothes over her more private areas as she went. I had assumed that she was killed when Chrissy destroyed the bar, or then when the gas explosion demolished what was left of it. But, it would appear she left Stub's before the accidents which took the lives of all its patrons, and several paramedics to boot.

The waitress (I never did find out her name) walked right up next to me. She was about 6'1", her eye's just slightly above mine. She had on another white blouse, although the cuffs were unbuttoed andthe sleeves rolled up loosely in an attempt to make clothing that no longer fit look a little more natural. She had on black slakcs instead of the skirt she was wearing last night. I looked down to check and see if she was in heels, but to my dismay she was in sandals, and her slacks ended well above her ankles, meaning she had grown about 7 inches since I last saw her. Evidentally my little talk with Chrissy hadn't gotten the desired effect on any of the parties listening.

"We have to talk," she whispered into my ear. Then she grabbed my arm and started pulling me away.

We didn't get very far before a cry of panic raced through the crowd in the waiting room. As I said before, Chrissy and i had a connection unlike anyone else in the house we shared, sometimes seeming to border on psychic. That psychic bond became apprent yet again as Chrissy once more seemed to chose the same location I was at in a city occupied by millions of souls.

You'd think there would be a little more time for warning before a 150 foot tall woman decided to come knocking, but that wasn't the case now. A split second after the wave of fear passed through the building, the west all shook, cracks forming just below the ceiling. Another tremor went through the building as an enormous set of fingers punctured the wall. Plaster and bricks gave way as Chrissy forced more of her hand through. Once her fingers were entirely in the room, fingernails as big as dinner plates facing the floor, Chrissy started to lift.

The wall and ceiling groaned and comlained, but Chrissy's strength won the argument. An alomst straight line spread out from the holes where her finger punched through the wall, following the line where the wall met the ceiling, racing towards the corner of the room. The lights went out as she strated to pull the roof off the building, and terrified screams filled the dark.

Then, as quickly as the lights had gone out, the room was flooded by light once again as Chrissy ripped half the roof off the building and sunlight streamed in. There, towering over the ruined wall, stood Chrissy, starting at the knees and going straight up into the sky. I was looking up, up into the botTom of her ruined black brassier, breasts jutting out and obscruing my view of anything higher. Then she leaned down slightly, her head poking out from over her breasts. She turned her face to look down into the room.

"I looked at the museum, but noone was there," she said. "You little folks weren't trying to run away from me, were you? I'll be running this town from now on, so you so I thought you might like to meet your new queen in person." She returned to her full height. "So, what do you think?"

The absence of noise seemed almost as loud as the screams that had filled the room just seconds earlier as people looked up at the towering goddess, at the same time shocked and yet beginning to resign themselves to their fate. The silence didn't last, however, as Chrissy reached into the crowd, plucked up some unfortunate commuter in a suit and hat with a briefcase, and held him up right next to her mouth.

His arms flapped about limply in the wind like a couple flags as Chrissy screamed at him "I SAID, WHAT DO YOU THINK!" Then she tossed him over her shoulder, sending him flying blocks down the street, as she returned her attention to the occupants of Union Station. "WELL?" she thundered.

Murmurs of "sounds fine," and "ok" were all that people could squeeze out of there fear clenched jaws. This was not enough to satisfy Chrissy. She reached down and plucked ot another traveller at random. Setting him down in her vast expanse of cleavage, she said, "I meant, what do you think of my appearance?"

I couldn't see the man's actions, but they evidentally satisfied her mor than her last victim, as she returned him to the tiled floor of Union Station. I had never thought of Chrissy as being particularly vain, but when you're 150 feet tall and wearing only a pair of cutoffs and a ripped bra, you end up showing a hell of a lot of flesh, so maybe she had a right to be a little more concerned with her appearance.

"Well, what about the rest of you?" Chrissy asked the room, the answer he last little "friend" gave hr having calmed her down slightly.

People in the room tried to shout all sorts of compliments at her, fearing, and rightly so, that their lives would be terminated if they gave the wrong answer.

But we were to small and too far away for Chrissy to hear our attempts to please her. Chrissy once again lost her tempr, which seemd to be shirnking as she grew larger. "God damn it, I'm not right next to you! You've got to speak up if I'm ever going to hear you!"

As soon as Chrissy had broken through the wall, everyone had begun to crowd on the opposite side of the room, cowering and trying to stay as far back from the giantess as possible. It was this act of coawrdice that saved most of us as she sent her massive left leg crashing through the west wall. Where there was once a while was now a jagged opening out to the street. And where there had been benches for waiting travellers to sit and rest their backs was now an enormous bare foot and a calve that went up to wher ethe roof had once stood, a calve wider than many of the members of the crowd's automoviles, and about a thousand times as sexy.

A tigging at my arm reminded me that I was about to begin a conversation before Chrissy broke in. I looked to my right and there stood the waitress, looking up at Chrissy's leg. She and I wer eporbably the only two people in the building who had encountered Chrissy before, which may explain why we were the least frightened of all the people around us. But the look on her face was more than just a lack of fear. It had an air of expectation and eagerness.

"We've got to go," she said. "I think I know how to get out of here."

We were at the north end of the waiting room, near the exits that lead to restaurants and ticket windows, themselves near exits that led to the city outside. Chrissy's attention was on the crowd, but she was staring at the entire crowd at once, and not at any individuals. We moved slowly through the crowd, our prayers that Chrissy wouldn't notice us answered.

Once we got outside, I looked at the waitress.

"Where to now?" I asked her.

"I think we can hide over there," she said, pointing towards a skyscraper. We hurried across the street to the building while Chrissy was still occupied with Union Station.

We went through the revolving doors at the base of the structure and stopped once we were just inside.

"Is that.. her?" the waitress asked. I nodded my head by way of reply.

"You mean- I could have become that?" was her next question. Once again, I answered in the affirmative by moving my head up and down. The waitress smiled and walked towards the door.



Part 22

I followed the waitress as she walked towards the door and jumped between her and the exit.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" I asked her.

"Outside," she said, matter of factly.

"Hang on," I said. "You wanted to talk. We're safe for the moment, but the second you go out there, Chrissy's gonna forget Union Station and come after us."

"Alright," she said impatiently. "Let's talk. Last night- exactly what happened?"

"You were there, you saw it. Hell, you were part of it," I said.

"I saw it, but I didn't beleive it. One thing, this chick is dancing, I take some pills, and the next thing I know, I'm eight feet tall and she's looking dow to see the balcony. Then you say something, and I'm standing there, normal sized and naked. I turn on the tv this morning, and there's something about a 150 foot giant in Chicago. I call up the bar, and can't get an answer. I call my boss, and his wife tells me he got killed when a giant trashed his bar. Now I'm gonna get answers, and if you don't tell me, I'm gonna go out there and ask her!" she pointed out the window at Chrissy's ankle in the street.

"Al right, here's what happened," and I proceeded to explain the story of Chrissy's pills once again. "Chrissy was on this medication as part of some research project that was supposed to make her taller. One night she got high and took a bunch of the pills, and in her state of mind, she thought they'd make her taller. She grew about a foot because she thought she would. The next day, she stole a whole bunch of the pills and kept taking them until she was eight feet tall. Then we went to the bar and-"

The wiatress interrupted. "And she gave me a bunch of the pills. She started growing, and then I took the pills and stared growing, too."

Were my eyes playing tricks on me, or were her sleeves a little higher on her arms? I shook my head to try and clear it and looked back at her. No, it must have just been a trick of my eyes. I picked up the story again. "Yeah, you took the pills and started growing, too. I tried to stop you two, so I-"

"You tried to stop us! From what? Look at her! Doesn't look like you did that great of a job, did you? But no, it worked fine on me! I'm stuck at my normal height, running for my life from some huge chick. If I remember correctly, I was growing even faster than she was! If you hadn't jumped in, she'd be running from me right now!" the waitress' temper was as bad as Chrissy's.

I looked at the floor, part in shame, part in fear. My eyes were, of course, drawn to her legs. Sorry, but it's my nature. She probably had nice legs, judging by the little biut of the botTom of her calves that I could see sticking out under neath the hem of her slacks. Funny I hadn't noticed that before. I usually go straight for the calves, but I thought I could only see her ankles before. I went on with the story. "But neither one of you should have grown! Those pills weren't even real! They were fucking placebos! You two were only growing because you thought you could!"

"And she," the wiatress jerked her thumb in Chrissy's general direction, "She still thinks she can?"

"No, no, no!" I said, looking up into the waitress' eyes. "When I told you guys about the placebos, you shrunk, and she stopped growing."

"She did NOT stop growing," the waitress said. I almost missed what she said, I was staring at her breasts, the outlines of which were quite clear through her blouse which was a few sizes too small.

"Well, she did at first. Then she realized she didn't need the pills," I said

"What do you mean, she realized she didn't need the pills?" Again, I almost missed what the wiatress was saying. I was still transfixed by her breasts. Her blouse had a low neckline that dipped down to show her cleavage, and the top button of said blouse sat right there in her cleavage. The fabric on either side of the button was straining, threatening to pull the button right of the stitches that held it in place. I wondered how she was able to pull the shirt tight enough to button it in the first place when she put it on.

"Well, I explained to her why she was growing. Earlier, she had grown to like twenty or thirty feet, but she shrunk right away. I tried to tell her that proved that she was on a placebo because she realized it wasn't possible to get that tall so she shrunk back down. But instead of making her shrink down when she found out she was ona placebo like you did, she started growing again. I guess that telling herthat, I kind of told her that it was possible to get that big. Something clicked, and, boom, there she is." Now I was the one who pointed out the window at Chrissy.

"So the pills had nothing to do with it at all?" asked the waitress.

"Well, they were like a catalyst. They allowed the growth to take place by making her think they could in the first place, but when she found out she didn't need them, she started growing on her own."

"That's why I gew, then? It wasn't the pills that made me grew, but it was just that I thought they'd make me grow? And I shurnk because you made me think I couldn't grow?"

"That's the tall and short of it," I said.

"But I could have. I mean, she did."

"Yeah, but she had always had this secret desire to. And once I explained it to her, she realized that... Oh shit... me and my big mouth..." I said as I realized that I had made the same mistake twice in as many days.

"You think you're mouth is big? You ain't seen nothing yet," the wiatress said as she pushed me aside and walked out the door.



Part 23

The waitress walked out to the street. After I recovered from the blow she dealt me, I got to my feet and followed her out the building. The street was empty, Chrissy having moved on to some other target within the city. The waitress, however, had already chosen her first.

She stood on the side walk, facing the building we had just left. She was maybe 6'6", her size increasing slowly, as if she was unsure of what she was doing. Perhaps that uncertainty would allow me to prevent her from her chosen course of action.

"Stop!," I shouted, waving my arms wildly to puncuate my statement. "You can't do this!"

"What, you think you're some kind of Jedi waving your arm like that?" she smiled. "Your mind tricks won't work on me."

She continued to grow, her slacks now pulled up over her calves and still rising along with the rest of her body. The waist of her pants dug into her sTomach, her blouse rising up to show her navel. The sleeves of her white cotton blouse were stretched tight over her biceps, the rolled up cuffs od them above her elbow. Her breats were straining at her blouse, pulling it tight even though it still hung loosely over her torso below them.

"No! What will you eat? What will you drink? Where will you sleep? What wil you wear? You've got to consider the future!" I tried to convince her to halt her growth.

"I'll eat, drink, and wear whatever the hell I want, and anyone who complains about my choice of bed will find themselves having a very rude awakening," was the seven and a half foot amazon's answer as she continued to grow.

The slacks reached only to her knees now, her shoes had ceased to exist, leaving her comlpetely bare from the knee down. Her calves were round and smooth, bulging out not with fat, but at the same time not with ropes of sinew and muscle. Just like Chrissy, her legs were the perfence balance of cellulite and muscle, and I momentarily became angry at myself for desiring her at that moment almost as much as I did Chrissy. But Chrissy wasn't my girlfriend, never had been, and, by all indications never would be now. Still, I couldn't help but feel as if I was cheating on Chrissy as I was eye-humping the waitress as she continued to grow.

Her slacks were hugging her hips, the polyester or rayon or whatever man-made miracle fabric they were made of stretching to accoodate their girth. The waist of the slacks bit even deeper into her sTomach, accenting an already splended hourglass shape. Her blouse was so tight it was transparent, her crimson brassier showing through it as if she were a contestant at a wet tee shirt contest.

It seemed kind of strange to me that, other than her shoes, her clothing had not torn yet. Of course, the process was determined entirely by her own mind, and everyone's mind is different, so I had no reason to expect the same thing as what happened with Chrissy. But still, her clothing was not really growing with her, it was just holding itself together better than it had on Chrissy. Considering the fact that this was the woman who had become completely nude in the bar, I found the fact that she wasn't really outgrowing her clothes a little disturbing (and frustrating!). But then again, she had been quite embarrassed by her state of undress, and maybe that had left her not wanting to outgrow them. Whatever the reason, she continued growing, and her clothes continued to bind her tighter and tighter. She grimaced in pain as the clothing pulled tighter and tighter, refusing to give, yet she continued to grow.

She had topped eight feet when she stumbled. She walked towards the skyscraper, her eyes fluttering, lids flicking open and shut. Her breath was coming in short, halting pants and her face was turning an unnatural shade of blue. As her clothes continued to dig in, they cut off her blood flow. UNconcious, she fell forward against the building. As she passed out, she was leaning against the building, her legs still supporting her, preventing her from slumping to the sidewalk.

But the growth wasn't controlled by the concious mind, not entirely. In fact, I'd come to realize, the concious mind seemed to harbor most of the fears and concerns which might complicate the growth proccess. Because after she passed out, her growth rate accelerated, and her clothing began to giv way.

It started at her waist. The top of the slacks that had bitten so deep into the flesh of her sTomach ruptured and burst, lossening the waistline. Along her thighs, vertical tears ran down the seams of the slacks as her thighs pressed against them and the trousers gave up trying to contain them. The tear reached all the way down to the hem of the trouser leg, now a couple inches above her knee as she continued to grow taller and taller. She topped nine feet, her head leaning against the glass of the second story window. Horizontal stretch lines went around the back of her blouse, then suddenly disappeared as the buttons in front all popped off. The blouse snapped backwards, hanging loosely off her shoulders. The sleevs tore at her shoulders, then her enormous biceps ripped the fabric of the sleeves still encricling her arms to shreds as she topped ten feet. At eleven feet tall, her trouser legs tore around her thighs, sending them fluttering to the ground like streamers of tickertape in a parade.

The remnants of her slacks still hugged her waist and hips tightly, the remnants of the legs of her trousers ending only about two inches below her crotch. Her sleevless blouse, open at the front, and now resembling more of a vest, had become tight across her shoulders. But now, it appeared that, just as it occured with Chrissy, her clothing began to grow with her. She remained unconsious as she topped fifteen, then twenty feet in height.

When she was twenty five feet tall, the waitress was brought back into conciousness by the sound of crcking glass and breaking concrete as the building began to give from the considerable weight her leaning body was placing against it.

She stood up straight, bringing her sTomach flat against the outer wall of the building. She continued to rise, and kept her feet planted firmly in place as she grew to thirty, then forty feet tall. I couldn't see her breasts, but the debris tumbling to the ground informed me that although she was holding her sTomach flush to the face of the bulding, she was also pressing her breasts into it.

I wondered if the building was still occupied as she used her growth spurt to drag her breasts up through the side of the structure, ripping a v-shaped gash in the side of the building as they grew wider higher, their increasing size pressing them deeper into the building. A filing cabinet and desk fell to the gound as the top of her tits demolished the floor of a seventh story office.

Up and up she went, sending more chunks of building and various office supplies to the sidewalk below. Her feet were longer than the sidewalk was wide, toes resting against the building's wall, heels out in the street. I was looking up at too acute of an angle to count how many rows of windows there were between the ground and her head, so I had no way to quantifiably estimate her height, but I did have more experience dealing with giant women than anyone else in town, so I think I can offer an expert opinion that when she finally pulled herself away from the building she was probably 120 feet tall, maybe more. I was standing next to her left foot, staring up at a massive calves that jutted out well above my head and went out from her leg to a point a couple feet behind me. She leaned down and looked at me, a desk lodged in the cleavage created by her none to loose crimson bra.

"Well, that was fun," she said. "And it's all thanks to you. I'll tell you what," and then the waitress reached down, her hand going around my torso as she lfited me off the street. "You seem so worried about what I'd do, I'll let you come along and watch me. Then you can tell me if I'm doin anything... Objectionable."

She lifted me up and set me down on her shoulder, next to her neck, on the bare flesh exposed by her open blouse. It was soft and round, firm from the enormous bone that was directly underneath me. I had trouble staying in place, I ekpt starting to slide down, scrabbling and clutching at her skin as I tried to pull myself up, or at least prevent myself from falling further. She took no action, simply looking down and watching. Her entire body shook as she chuckled, making my predicament even more difficult. But I managed no to fall, and started to crawl sideways, towards the huge white sheet that was the collar of her blouse. I clutched at it and dragged myself up higher. Clinging to it with both hands, I was safe for the moment. The waitress saw I was safe and began walking, looking over many buildings and around the taller ones as she sTomped through the street on her qyest for Chrissy.



Part 24

I remained on my perch on the waitress' shoulder, clutching her blouse for dear life as her torso rocked gently forward and back with each step she took.

We were going down Michigan Avenue when we heard Chrissy speaking. She was not yet in sight, and I believe the waitress was assuming that if we couldn't see Chrissy, then she hadn't seen us.

I did not have the oppurtnuity go get a good view from my vantage point, but I beleive there is none sight more absurd than a one hundred foot tall womam trying to hide. But the wiatress did her best, crouching low and crawling along the street, ducking behind buildings, trying to use skyscrapers and parking ramps as cover. Her plan succeeded, because soon we were able to see Chrissy, although she was paying no attention to our appraoch.

Chrissy was perched atop the parking ramp of North Pier Mall, an immense red brick structure. Although it was originally designed to support the weight of thousands of cars, the eight story building did npot appear to have too much difficulty supporting Chrissy's one hundred fifty foot body. She sat on it, her gorgeous legs dangling over the side, massive calves bruching against the outer wall. A crowd was in the street in front of her, listening as she gave her demands.

"You wil all accept me of your new ruler. I would hope that you have now realized the futility of the use of the military. A week ago, I would have said that no-one should be chosen to rule by sheer strength. However, I find that once i am in this position, mu viewpoint has shifted. I promise to rule fairly, although I will also rule with a stiff hand." To demonstrate her point, she smashed a fist down on the adjacent North Pier Mall building, crashing it through the roof. "Do as I say, or the same happens to you."

That is when the wiatress chose to reveal herself.

Rising from behind the store she had used for cover, the waitress said, "Well, this is America. I say we let them choose for themselves." She approached Chrissy and the crowd and looked down at the assembled masses that lay in front of her feet. Placing her hands on her hips, she glared down at them. "Well, who's it going to be?"

Chrissy jumped off the parking ramp, trampling untold dozens of people beneath her feet as she landed in the street. "You! I thought Jake took care of-" Chrissy looked directly at me and squinted. "Jacob?"

Before either I or the waitress knew what happened, Chrissy's arm flicked out. A massive hand opened up and engulfed me as Chrissy plucked me off the wiatress' shoulder. She probably still had a good twenty or so feet on the wiatress, and, now from Chrissy's hand, I could see the fear inthe waitress' eyes. That fear may have come from a larger being, but I beleive my fear was greater as Chrissy lifted me up to within feet of her enormous face, opened her palm, and left me lying in it.

"Jake! Did you do this? To her? Why!" Nauseau raced through me as her hand moved swiftly back, preparing to hurll me across the city.

"No!" I shouted. "She did it to herself! Just llike you did!"

Chrissy heard my pitiful cries and slowly btought her hand back so that I was once again staring into blue-green eyes larger than I was.

"She did this, to herself?"

I couldn't lie to Chrissy. "I was there. I amy have.. helped. But I didn't mean to, honest! If anything, I would have sooner helped you than her."

"Liar!" Chrissy screamed. "Yu treid to stop me! You didn't want any of this! you tried to fight me! Then you brought her to stop me! Well, it's not going to work. This is my town!"

With that, Chrissy set me down on top of the parking ramp that had srved as her throne. Chrissy had a belt in some kind of martial art, I don't know if it was Judo or Tae Kwon Do or what. She approached the waitress with a speed you wouldn't think would be possible for a human that large to possess. She jumped and kicked, and I decided it must be Tae Kwan Leap as she delivered a severe boot to the head that left the waitress unconcoius in the road, One limp leg in the parking lot across the street from North Pier, both arms draped loosely over a building on either side of her. Her massive chest rose and fell slowly, indications that she was still alive.

Chrissy addressed the few remaining survivors of the crowd that had gathered around her.

"Now you see. Not police, not military, not even another person of my stature can defeat me. You are all mine, whether you like it or not."

I sat atop the parking ramp trapped and isolated, shaking my head and wondering how much of this i had caused, and how much was purely Chrissy's one lust for power.