The Teacher and the Whore

(A love story)


By Pril


“She knows who you are.” (Ancient Tahori proverb)

1

I love quiet.

I’ve always loved quiet without knowing why. Because I was born like so many others of our time in the big city, and did all my schooling, from beginning to end, there. Then I got my first job in the big city, and then my second. And, after many years of big city, I decided that I had had enough of the noise, the smog, and the crazy people, and –soon after my mother’s death– I took my bags, said good-bye to everything and everyone, and moved to the suburbs, hoping to find the relaxed, better life I always wanted. And you know what? I did find what I always wanted. Funny thing is… although I thought I did, I didn’t have a clue as to what I really wanted. Because what I found is just the most amazing thing I couldn’t have imagined in my wildest dreams.

My name is Cyril O’Connor. I’m forty-five years old, a certified teacher by profession. I was the only child born to a lovely home although soon in life I lost my father, of whom over the years I have almost completely lost every recollection. The cruel trick life played on me with his sudden demise was absolutely made up for with the most caring, loveable of mothers who, to her last day in her quiet old age, continued to give me the unconditional warmth and confidence that bred me from the very minute I opened my eyes to this world. Her death two years ago was a decisive factor in my decision to move away. I could fill up pages and pages about my dear mother, but I’ll need to leave that for another story since what I’m here for is to tell you about another lady, a very special woman that brought to my life what can only be described as uniqueness.

But first I think you should know a little about me to better understand the special circumstances that brought me and her together. As I said, I’ve always loved quiet, and I am a quiet person myself. In a society that never stops reminding us how insignificant we are unless we make this much money, buy the right things, dress in a particular kind of way, and watch that special TV news program, I’ve somehow managed to grow up almost immune to all that. I think I must have been the quietest of children or, at least, I was definitely very quiet compared to those I’ve been teaching for over twenty years now.

I took to books when I still couldn’t even read, and soon art and music followed in my list of early conquests. By the time I was ten I could recite off by heart a few dozen poems, including the greatest by Emerson, Kipling, Shelley and Burns. I took violin lessons for quite a few years and my mom had hopes I’d become an accomplished musician one day, but time showed how poor my talent really was, especially in comparison to the big ones, which I admire to this day through their unforgettable recordings. Then came Michelangelo and his sculptures, which left me speechless the first time I saw them badly reproduced in an old book. My only trip overseas ever was precisely to Italy, where I spent endless hours at the museums of Rome, Florence, and Venice, and I never stopped wondering how anyone can achieve such a degree of perfection.

I’ve always also been a very good friend. Envy is virtually non-existent in me, and I find it hard to think poorly of anybody. I accept the world and its people as they are and for what they are, and leave judgment and conclusion to others. I know how to keep a secret and never make a fuss when some friends of mine, even good ones, don’t keep mine. But all that has changed in the last few years, for when I moved out of the city I was also trying to put an effective end to a social behavior that has become of my dislike. Basically, I was running away.

You must be wondering where wife and family fit into this picture. After all I’m forty-five. Well, it might be my temper, or maybe my upbringing, but there have been two aspects of life for which I haven’t been greatly endowed. One is ambition, for I can live on little, as long as it’s good. The other is love.

I do love women; don’t misunderstand what I’m saying. I said I have an eye for art and beauty and I definitely have an appreciation of beauty in mankind, especially the other sex. If not precisely shy, I had never given girls much importance when I was still a student. I would even say I was reasonably successful with them, since I’m not a bad-looking fellow at all. But I noticed from the beginning I was far from having the crazy impulse I could detect in most of my mates and I remember I had almost had to be convinced by others to go and try to get a girl.

So a girl did I get, and I married her two years later. Mary was lovely and my mom immediately took to her. For the first three years of our early life together things were more or less all right, but soon after she started to complain that she wasn’t getting enough out of our marriage and that she was getting bored, for which I can hardly blame her. I’m not going to go into that too much, but I will tell you that everything between us was fine. Just fine. Too fine, maybe. Not having children yet, our divorce was a relatively easy process, and no one suffered really much. Even mother overcame it pretty quickly.

So, believe it or not, for the last twenty years I hadn’t had a regular companion. I could mention at least two caring girlfriends that, more or less, ended up feeling like my ex wife, plus a sporadic encounter with a woman I don’t think I could remember her face, or body. The rest of my sexual impulse, I don’t know whether to feel ashamed to admit it or not, simply went down the toilet or stayed messily entangled in my bed sheets after a silly wet dream.

So, you may be asking yourself, what am I here for? To tell you how anonymous, quiet and uninteresting I can be? Well. That would have been the case until a year ago. Because the course of action of the last twelve months of my life has brought the most fantastic change, discovery and revolution I could have ever envisaged for my future. Life has presented me with the most amazing woman you and I could dream about. Life has brought me happiness, completion and blessing.

Life has given me Elektra.

"The Teacher and the Whore"
(a giantess love story)


Chapter 2


Funnily enough, although I am now in the suburbs, I don’t live in a house. Mind you, I could have easily gotten one for a very reasonable rate, but the school that hired me owns a few apartments here and there that they sometimes offer to their teachers or staff members, especially when they feel their experience and record qualifies them for that. Ms. Penders –my new and most peculiar schoolmistress– had particularly insisted on me taking one of them. Although I had met her only recently and wasn’t particularly afraid of her authority, she was famous for being the toughest lady in town and, believe you me, she looked her reputation every bit! I’ll have to tell you more about her later on, since she is such an unusual character. I had almost made up my mind to argue my school’s generous offer with energy when I –wisely– decided so see the apartment first. I fell in love with it the minute I saw it, for it was located in a rather small building with only three other apartments in it. The whole place was so tidily kept and it looked so nice that I soon realized I could save myself right away the trouble of a house-hunt and all the dealing with real estate agents. Although it was empty, I quickly furnished it with my own furniture and, once the books were on the shelves and the disks on their racks, it looked like home in no time.

Another thing I loved about it was the fact that the two apartments downstairs (for I took one of the two on the upper floor) were occupied by elderly, quiet people who welcomed me warmly from the very beginning. As for the second apartment on my floor, which was empty at the time, I wrongly assumed it belonged to the school, too. Today I thank my muse that that wasn’t the case, for if it had been so, some boring teacher, a bachelor, or spinster, or –worse still– a young couple with noisy children, would have moved in there, instead of my beautiful Elektra.

The other apartment continued to be unoccupied for a couple of months after my arrival, and I had already gotten used to coming back to an extremely quiet home where I could comfortably listen to my music while reading a classic until well into he night. Then, one evening, as I came back from school, I found a few empty cardboard boxes lying on the short corridor between both apartment doors and I knew right away someone had moved in. I didn’t know whether to be happy that I’d have a new soul living on my floor or concerned about the person being loud, or impolite, or any of the things I hated about the big city. I even thought of knocking on their door and welcoming them, but then I thought that might be misinterpreted as nosiness on my part, so I decided to let it happen naturally.

Although I’ve been an early bird all my life, I’m also fond of going to sleep quite late at night, thus having longer days to enjoy all I like doing. I don’t remember ever sleeping more that five or six hours a night, and that has never tired me much. In any case, although I continued my regular life for the next two or three days, I was a bit curious to meet the new person, and a bit surprised not to have seen them at any time of the day. For all I could tell the apartment was as quiet as usual, only that every now and then you could hear some kitchen pottering through the door, and smell the food being prepared, and very tasty that it was.

Then, one night, I was about to fall asleep well past midnight when I heard soft hammer-like knocks along the corridor, which quickly disappeared into the distance. I don’t think I had the lucidity to register anything particular about it that first night, since I was drifting off. But the following night I heard the sound again and thought to myself ‘who on earth could possibly start hammering, however soft, in the middle of the night?’ The third night it happened I decided to satisfy my curiosity and quickly ran to my door and stuck my eye to the peephole. That was our –or, at least, my– first contact ever. I saw the back of a woman carefully locking the door of her apartment and quickly walking to and down the stairs. Although I didn’t see her face two things became very clear. The first was that the hammering was actually high heel shoes walking on the corridor’s wooden floor surface. The second, that the woman I had managed to snatch a glance at had to be very tall and attractive. What I distinctly remember of that ‘first night’, though, is that I found myself realizing I hadn’t thought of a woman as ‘attractive’ for a long, long time.

Next day at school I was a bit absentminded and had to force myself not to drift into some kind of daydreaming about someone I hadn’t even looked straight into her eyes yet. Something was the matter with me, and the children (and children always do) noticed it right away, and much faster than me.

“Mr. O’Connor is in loooove,” they sang.

Ms. Penders, the schoolmistress, also looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and firmness, so typical of her personality.

“Is everything all right, Mr. O’Connor?” she asked me when I briefly walked into her office to hand in some form or piece of paper.

“Of course, Ms. Penders,” I answered with my brightest smile. I knew she had a kind heart deep down, and I wasn’t going to allow her stern mask put a barrier between us.

“Hmm…” she said.

When I returned home that day I bumped into Mrs. Sampson, one of the lovely elderly women downstairs. We had gotten on fantastically from the beginning and I had to almost beg her to stop making food and cakes for me.

“Hello, Cyril, dear,” she said to me with a faint smile on her face.

“Hello Mrs. Sampson,” I replied guessing that something was somewhat wrong. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yes, dear. I guess it is,” she said. And proceeded to ask me about school, health, and whether I was eating properly or not. But soon she went on to say what she really intended to,

“By the way, dear. Have you met the new neighbor yet?” there was a tone of concern in her voice.

“Actually, no,” I answered. “Although I did notice someone moved in the other day. Have you met the person, Mrs. Sampson?” I asked, avoiding saying I already knew it was a woman.

“Well, not exactly, dear,” she said. And further explained, “but Harry (that’s her husband), well, you know how he wakes up so many times at night for his toilet… he says he’s seen her a few times in the middle of the night… and… and, well… he says she’s always wearing these fancy clothes, and that there is always an expensive car waiting for her on the street…”

She stopped herself to see whether I was taking in what she was trying to express. I for sure knew what she was describing, although my first thought was that a suburb was hardly a location for such business. Nonetheless I pretended to take things easy and said with a smile,

“Oh, Mrs. Sampson. There might be many reasons for that, I guess,” I waved my hand casually. “Maybe you should just wait a little bit longer to see whether Mr. Sampson’s impression is really correct. I doubt a girl like that would be interested in living in such a quiet neighborhood. She’s probably running back and forth from her previous lodgings to this one… I’m sure we’ll soon get to know her better and everything will become clear. Aren’t you?”

“Well, dear, “ she said smiling. “Maybe you’re right. Yes, you’re probably right. Let’s hope she’s just a nice lady. And if she is I really hope you look at her for you… You know, dear, a man your age…”

“Oh, yes, I know, Mrs. Sampson,” I said looking at her with my friendliest smile.

Poor Mrs. Sampson. She could have hardly known then how literally I’d take her advice after only a few months.

In any case, the news she’d just given me did worry me a little. Was it possible a lady of light life had moved into this quietest of buildings? What for? As I climbed up the stairs I heard a little music coming out from her apartment and the now familiar kitchenware clatter. I stopped for a second at her door not quite knowing what to do before getting into my apartment.


But if you live in a four-apartment block you can’t wait too long before sooner or later meeting everybody. When the weekend came I went food shopping on Saturday morning as usual and then came back home, carrying the plastic bags from the supermarket. I had just placed them on the ground and was about to unlock my door when I heard the other door behind me open up. I instinctively turned around and saw her coming out.

The first thing I noticed was her height. I’m five nine myself and I don’t remember ever having any problems with it. I don’t recall having ever before looked at women and judged them by how tall they were, either. In short, I don’t remember height as ever having been an issue in my life at all. Yet, my first reaction to Elektra’s appearance was astonishment at her sheer length. She stood six feet three inches on a very simple pair of thongs she was wearing and, instead of looking massive and uncouth as you’d think a woman that size would be, she had just one of the most fantastic bodies I had ever seen, including on TV and in magazines and movies.

Her face was a poem to perfection. Without a gram of make-up on, her breathtaking green eyes shone with intensity in the middle of her white demeanor. Her high cheekbones were supported by a ravishingly beautiful mouth and the white teeth smile that she gave me when meeting my eyes. A mass of straight shoulder-length blonde hair fell naturally behind her head and contrasted playfully with the simple denim dress she had put on. The bottom of it was slightly above knee length, thus exposing quite a lot of her magnificent long legs, which I now know and love with mad passion. As for her age, well, she had to be very young, and now I know she was only twenty-two at the time.

My smile took a split of a second to surge up to my face as I fought inexplicably with a rush of confusing thoughts that bombarded my brain the second I saw her. Still hoping not to have made a complete fool out of myself I managed to say with uncertain voice,

“Hello… Welcome to the building. I hope you settle down well.”

She kept her smile but didn’t answer. A bit confused on getting such a pleasant although wordless response, I quickly stretched my arm and introduced myself,

“Cyril O’Connor. Nice to meet you.”

The single word I got for an answer will forever sound like the opening of Heaven’s gates to me.

“Elektra,” she simply said, and delicately put her hand into mine.

I’ll never forget the purity of that handshake. Her long, beautiful fingers rested on mine for a second or two, and I felt I had been touched by an angel. There was still an extra half a second of further looking into each other’s eyes before she quickly disappeared downstairs. I must have stood at my still locked door for many long minutes before I managed to break the spell that had invaded my whole self after seeing her. I got into my apartment with shaking hands, dumped the shopping bags in the kitchen, and collapsed on an armchair, trying to decipher what had actually happened to me.

"The Teacher and the Whore"

(a giantess love story)


Chapter 3

Later that Saturday, as I managed to recover a little, I tossed our brief encounter in my head a million times and not only came to the conclusion that the young woman’s scant speech was due to a language impairment, but also got convinced she had pronounced her name with a bit of an accent. In any case ‘Elektra’ wasn’t what people called their children around here, and she looked foreign, too. I couldn’t know it then for sure, but it turned out I was absolutely right. That same night I had a frightening confirmation of my theory.

Unless I have an unavoidable social commitment on Saturday night, I love staying at home and engaging myself in some reading or, sometimes, TV movie watching. That particular night, trying to escape the weird sensations of that day, I was playing chess against a computer that had always given me a hard time on its last two levels. I was focusing hard on an extremely tight match while listening to a soft Schubert symphony.

Suddenly, a loud shout broke into my concentration, and I jumped off my chair as if knocked by a truck. Running to the door and gluing my eye to the peephole I saw a man standing at Elektra’s door, which he was now banging with his fist. He accompanied his hits with loud shouts in a language I had never heard before. He was a big, burly balding man of broad back and was obviously very angry.

Soon Elektra’s voice became clear from behind her door. She seemed to speak the same language or, at least, they understood each other. She also sounded upset, or worried, and was obviously unwilling to open the door for him. In my imagination I concluded she was asking him to leave or, at least, stop shouting. Whatever it is she said, it made the man only madder and his banging intensified. His voice was now threatening and clearly in command. Whatever the case, after a couple of seconds the door was opened. I even managed to briefly see the woman through the gap. She was dressed very attractively, exactly as Mrs. Sampson had described it to me. Still she tried to keep the man out of her house, but he wouldn’t give up. On the contrary. He almost forced his way in, literally pushing the tall woman aside.

I remember I felt a wave of indignation rushing up my spine and even considered getting out of my apartment and standing next to my neighbor’s door in case something bad happened. I still waited for a few minutes standing where I was while the shouting continued. I think I was prepared to do something about it when suddenly the barking stopped. Finally I decided to relax and not make something huge of what probably was a fight between a pimp and one of his workers. Much as the thought hurt me, it was becoming obvious that Mr. Sampson’s conclusions had a lot of truth in them.

I tried to get back to my game but I knew perfectly well that that would not be impossible. And it wasn’t. Then I switched off the stereo and sat in the middle of the dark, silent living room trying to gather my thoughts together. I felt uncomfortable in my own home-clothes on my soft armchair. I didn’t know where to locate the reason of my feelings. Was it the woman, the situation, or me? I suddenly stood up and started to pace the room. Then I got into the kitchen and started to boil water for a tea, but soon I changed my mind and grabbed from the fridge a bottle of white wine. I was about to pour me some in a wineglass when I came to the conclusion I’d never calm down as long as I stayed within the four walls of my house. It became clear I was dying to know what was going on at my neighbor’s and, risky as I knew it was, I just opened my damn door and walked the few steps that separated it from hers.

The minute I tuned my hearing into what was going on in there it became evident that, although the shouting had stopped, the argument was far from being over. Only that now I could hear mainly her voice and almost none of his. She did stop to listen to his answers but –at least within my ears– I couldn’t make up his part of the script anymore. Little by little Elektra’s voice turned from frightened and upset into just argumentative, and finally it also relaxed quite a lot. Within minutes the first signs of normality reappeared in her speech and, towards the end, there was also a funny, friendly giggle.

Glad as I was to see –or hear– that everything seemed to have come back to normal, I couldn’t help wondering at the man’s most unusual arguing tactics. He had literally disappeared from the scene after what had seemed to be the angriest fit of his life. Was everyone like that in their country? I thought. If they were, they sure had a most interesting way of sorting problems out.

After a few more minutes of almost complete quiet I slowly turned around and was about to walk the short distance back to my door when I heard, to my complete dismay, the unlocking of hers. Before I knew it Elektra had come out of her apartment, slightly lowering her head to get through. I could hardly believe my eyes. If I had been impressed earlier on that day by her sheer beauty and height when in simple clothes, no make-up and rubber thongs, now I was almost knocked off my feet by the vision I had in front of me.

Elektra was wearing a blue fitting dress that outlined and enhanced every curve of her unbelievable figure. Her bust was sticking out, full and firm, clearly exposing how generous nature had been with her. Her black pair of high heel sandals was one of the sexiest I had ever seen and she seemed to walk in them as comfortably as other women do in their sneakers. They were at least five inches high, hence the reason for her head tilting when passing through her doorframe. Her face had an exquisite layer of suggestive make-up on, and her hair was made into a complex array of wild waves. She was a vision from another, superior dimension and my stupor on seeing her was the only sensation that could have been stronger than the embarrassment to have been caught in my evident nosy attitude.

Elektra was at least as surprised as I was embarrassed and she was completely taken aback when looking down at me from her imposing height. Obviously there couldn’t have been a smile on her face (as there wasn’t one on mine), although she didn’t give me a rude look either. I desperately fumbled for words,

“I, I…, I’m very sorry, E… Elektra,” I said, feeling a million gallons of blood rush up to my head. “I, I…, I was a bit worried… Are, are… Are you all right?”

Now I know she didn’t understand a word of what I had said, and I would have sure had to accept a good slap on my face from a woman that had obviously had enough from men for one night. That’s why I was totally put off balance when her beautiful red lips turned into a friendly smile and she said,

“Tanky,” and quickly went downstairs.

Had that been a ‘thank you’? Had she just thanked me for keeping guard at her door in case anything wrong happened to her? All I know is that her ‘tanky’ resounded in my head for hours as I lay down in bed trying to fall asleep. That night I didn’t manage to fall asleep. But I was well aware that I was falling in love.

It was only next day, when I woke up to the powerful light of early afternoon, that I came around to realize that the big guy she had argued with hadn’t been with her when she went out. The whole thing didn’t make any sense. Where was he?

"The Teacher and the Whore"

(a giantess love story)


Chapter 4

For the first time in my life I found myself obsessively thinking about a woman. That Sunday afternoon I went for a long walk by myself to the park in order to tidy things up in my head. I felt free and happy to saunter between the trees, plants and flowers, breathing the intoxicating spring air that seemed to permeate the world. I still wasn’t able to decide what to do with the magic influence my beautiful neighbor had on me, but I concluded I was much better off if I just continued to live my life as normally as if she didn’t exist, letting things happen in their natural way. I knew what she was and what I was. I had heard and read many times about men –or women– who lose their minds when falling in love, and I was ready to invest my best creative energy in order not to make a complete fool out of myself. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, and I didn’t rule out any possible endings to what was going on. But I was strong in my decision not to lose control over the impact in my life of a woman twenty plus years my junior. Little did I know then what control really was.

Nonetheless, I also thought it would be wrong to shift completely to the other side in order to avoid dependence on another person by ignoring them. I decided that same afternoon I would ring on Elektra’s bell before getting back into my apartment just to ask how she was. I knew she might regard it as an excuse I made up to snatch another look at her but I didn’t care. She could think whatever she wanted and as she wanted. It was a fact I liked the woman beyond mere attraction and I was quite ready to expose myself in front of her in spite of my fears. You can’t always win in life, and you certainly can’t decide your fate.

So it was that when I got back to my building I climbed up the easy stairs to my floor and stood at my neighbor’s door. I was about to knock when I heard her voice engaged in conversation. First I was convinced she was on the phone and I decided to try a little bit later. But when I turned around to leave I heard her switch from her –for me– incomprehensive language to a very basic, almost unintelligibly bad English.

“No, heer. No, de’er. I spik ya!”

My attention to her speech told me that hers was hardly a tone or way of speaking on the phone. I couldn’t help remembering the previous night, when the voice of the big guy that had forced his way into her apartment had virtually disappeared from their ongoing argument. Was she talking to him again? And if so, why her sudden change to English? Now my curiosity was aroused and I found myself again standing secretly at her door, trying to guess at every move that happened in there. The little chattering died away after only a few minutes, and I still waited some more before mustering courage and making up my mind to knock on her door.

“Yes?” I heard immediately from behind it. The voice wasn’t frightened or concerned. Just asking who this was.

“Elektra,” I said aloud and politely, “this is Cyril, your neighbor. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I just…”

My speech was interrupted by the sudden opening of her door. There she was, tall, young and beautiful, casually dressed in a lively colored T-shirt and fitting jeans that exposed in a natural yet suggestive way her prominent bust and erect bottom. I was about to apologize for my unexpected and unsolicited intrusion into her evening when she gave me one of her disarmingly sweet and winning smiles that melted within a split of a second all my bombastic and elaborate theories of earlier that afternoon.

Again fumbling for words in front of the towering beauty I stammered,

“I, I…, I just wanted to ask how you were… I was a bit worried after yesterday night… I hope everything is alright… is it?”

My discourse gradually dwindled, as there was no answer from her except for the curious, interested smile that seemed to be scanning my soul through its green eyes. She never spoke; neither did she move. The gorgeous woman just stood there looking down at me, as if waiting for me to say something else. As the seconds quickly succeeded one another I was certain she was going to close her door on my nose unless I said something, and quickly. Yet she continued to stand there and smile. And it was then that I had the first suspicion ever that she might also be interested in a kind of friendship with her intellectual, single neighbor.

A bit more relaxed in the wake of her open, awaiting attitude I allowed a little smile to appear on my face and decided to ask in a more fatherly way,

“Do you speak English, Elektra?”

She slowly shook her head negatively.

“No English at all?” I insisted.

She gave me the same quiet and smiley answer.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” I delicately ventured.

Now there wasn’t even a head motion. Only a curious look on her pretty face, as someone that is trying to decipher an exotic and interesting code. ‘God’, I thought, ‘the girl doesn’t have a clue as to what’s going on around her’. Suddenly possessed by a feeling of protection beyond my deep infatuation with her, I proceeded to explain to her with very simple words and a lot of gesticulation that I was there for her to count on for whatever she needed. My last repeated gig was to impersonate the big guy that had given her hell the previous night and gesturing to her that next time she shouldn’t hesitate to call me, even screaming, if she had too.

“If any problems,” I succinctly summed it up, “scream: Cyril, Cyril, help, help!”

I thought I was doing a pretty good job, considering my poor acting skills, and I was most surprised when the beautiful girl exploded with laughter at my hand-waving and body-jerking in the air. She must have laughed for a good long minute, and I remember thinking that she had one of the healthiest, purest laughs I had ever heard. I watched her with fascination as she tried to calm down. I just could not, did not want to let those seconds go. I loved the very idea of knowing that such a creature existed. And do so to this day.

“OK, OK,” she said, still drying a tear or two from her penetrating green eyes. “I cream, I cream, Cyril, heeeelp, heeeelp!”

When I got into my apartment I closed the door behind me and leaned on it for a long time. I had an intense tickling sensation between my eyes, as someone whose enjoyment is so that it ends up taking a physical manifestation.


Much as I would have liked to see my neighbor as often as I could, I didn’t really know how I would ever manage that at my age and my not too ambitious personality. How much was each one of the dresses she wore at night? What could I offer her? A poem by Tennyson?

Now, I’ve seen time and again that there are good and bad spells in life. For no reason, without any logical explanation, sometimes everything goes wrong and sometimes everything goes right. Life had always been fairly good to me and, for the same unknown reason, now it was about to become incredible, for soon it would show me exactly what I could offer Elektra.

And so it was that for the day after, a Monday, there was an excursion to the park planned for my pupils. Ms. Penders –the strict schoolmistress I told you about– had frowned at the idea, but my smile had convinced her and she had finally agreed to let me apply my own methodology to my eager pupils. Once she consented I took the children to that beautiful park, halfway thorough the school and my house, to show my little ones nature in its beautiful habitat other than in boring books. My pupils and I were walking along the park’s large extensions while I was engaged in an explanation about this or that tree when, suddenly, I saw Elektra jogging happily nearby. I was lucky that she saw me too, and even luckier that she decided to make a little detour to trot past my children and me, waving a friendly hand at us. Her golden hair was made up into a lovely bun, her blue and white jogging suit clearly outlining the young, strong, energetic body within.

I think my smile must have circled round my face and I instinctively raised my hand to wave back, as did some of the children. I was wearing my teaching outfit and was clearly conducting an open-air lesson, which proved to be decisive in the developments of later that day. As she jogged away, every now and then turning her head back for another little smile, I thought that if I could only see Elektra for a few seconds every morning my life would be ten times more worth living that it already was.

“Who is she, Mr. O’Connor?” one of the children was curious to know.

“Oh, she’s just a neighbor,” I said, trying to sound casual, even though I felt rushes of emotion go up and down my spine.

“Are you going to marry her, Mr. O’Connor?” one of the most perceptive ones risked.

I looked at him sweet and long, and tried to find a plausible answer, before forcing myself to continue to deliver my lesson as well as I could.

And so it was that that same evening, when I was making myself dinner while listening to some jazz in the kitchen, I heard a soft knock on my door, which I mistook as Mrs. Sampson, the lovely old lady downstairs, surely bringing me a piece of cake or another tidbit, as was her wont. I quickly opened the door with a big smile while holding a ladle in my hand. You can easily imagine what I felt when I saw standing in front of me not the sweet old lady but the ravishing young girl who had blessed my life when moving into my building and floor.

She was wearing a white cotton summer dress that showed her wild young flesh in all its intensity, while her face smiled at me warmly. This was the first time since she had moved in that she had actually knocked on my door, something I had never really expected to happen. I was so surprised I just didn’t know what to say or do. ‘Stupid me!’ I thought. ‘Do something! Say something!’

I was still busy racking my brains for the right thing to do when she simply asked,

“You magister?”

I looked at her a bit longer before guessing at was she was trying to say. She had to be asking me whether I was a teacher.

“A magister? A teacher, you mean?” I ventured.

Elektra nodded affirmatively,

“Skoolah? Magister skoolah?”

“Yes, Elektra,” I said with a smile, trying not to sound condescending. “I’m a teacher. A school teacher,” I pronounced the words slowly.

“You teechr Englich?” she still asked.

“Yes,” I answered with a more professional smile. “I’m an English teacher, too.”

Then she put in the words that opened up our universe together forever.

“You teechr Englich me! Me Englich no spik. You magister. You magister Englich me!”

She was the most beautiful thing that ever existed, and I could hardly believe my ears.

“Are you asking me to teach you English?” I asked slowly and prudently, using lots of gestures.

“Yes!” she said loudly and cheerfully. And then she said and did something that nearly knocks me down with surprise,

“Me money!” she added, and produced from her pocket a huge quantity of bills, probably amounting to a few hundred dollars, which she tried to deposit in my empty hand.

I instinctively backed off, quickly putting my hands out of her reach, and said,

“Hey, hey,” I smiled. “Wait a second. There is time for that. Don’t worry about it yet!”

Much as I wasn’t ready to accept any money –if at all– without knowing first what kind of a deal we’d have, I loved the fact that she had trusted me so much as to just give me such an amount for a job that hadn’t even been discussed yet. It only spoke of her unconditional generosity to those she cares about.

Within the next few minutes I gestured at her to give me some time to finish dinner and come again right after, at eight o’clock, for our first lesson. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a virtual meal in my life. I’m not even sure I ate any food at all that dinner, so busy was my head with the gift destiny had dropped on my lap.

“The Teacher and the Whore”

(a giantess love story)


Chapter 5


At eight o’clock sharp Elektra softly knocked on my door again. For some reason both of us had tacitly agreed to change into slightly less casual, if still informal, clothes. I had removed my shorts and T-shirt to put pants and a checkered shirt on, whereas she had changed her skimpy white dress for tight jeans and a rather loose-fitting blouse, a pair of simple old brown leather striped sandals hardly covered her beautiful feet. She had also innocently brought a little notebook, pencil and erasure with her. I just loved how she looked. We smiled at each other and I let her in. Examining with her curious, aware eyes the rather conventional decor of my apartment, she quickly sat down at the table where I had prepared some material for our first English lesson, casually crossing her long legs under it. I could right away sense she felt at home.

I sat right across from her, the medium-sized wooden table between us. On its top there were a few books and notes I had dug from some old files containing material I had gathered during the two or three years –long ago– during which I had also taught some ESL (English as a Second Language) to foreign adults.

First we went through personal pronouns (I, you, he, she, it, we, you, they) and then the verbs ‘to be’ and ‘to have’. Next I named a few simple objects on the table and immediately around us, using also an illustration book that I had precisely for that purpose. I must say that Elektra surprised me with her power of concentration. For some reason I had wrongly assumed she’d be just a regular student, but I soon realized her receptive capability was definitely above normal, which only made our lesson more enjoyable. Her writing skills were also quite accomplished and, funnily enough, she was familiar with the Latin alphabet.

For a full hour both student and teacher dedicated our complete attention to the material, thus calming me in my fears of not quite knowing how to handle such a peculiar situation. After the hour was over we both looked at each other not knowing whether to continue or not, when I had the brilliant idea to offer her another coffee. Her understanding now improved in something like a thousand percent, she accepted immediately my offer and, right after I made some, we continued for yet another hour, until the weight of a long day became evident in our proficiency.

Once the second hour was over we looked at each other again with tired eyes and decided it had been more than enough for a first meeting. Elektra got on her feet and, pulling again a disproportionate amount of money out of her pocket, said,

“How much?”

I emphatically waved my hands negatively but she insisted, trying to leave all her bills on my table. I quickly thought that I didn’t want our lessons to seem unprofessional by not charging at least something, so I decided to compromise for an almost symbolic figure, which I had to insist on her not arguing it.

Although during the lesson I had successfully minimized the effect of the fantastically attractive woman on me, I have to admit that here and there I found myself snatching glances at her pretty face, lovely hair, beautiful hands, sexy feet, not to mention her expressive, devastatingly alluring green eyes.

When standing at the door about to say goodnight for now she suddenly said with a huge, almost childish smile,

“You are very good teacher!”

“Well, thank you, Elektra. And you are a very good student,” I replied politely, meaning every word I said.

“Tomorrow?” she asked, thus answering my prayers.

“Tomorrow,” I agreed positively.

Then she did one of those things that have always fascinated me in her. Completely taking me aback, she leaned down and, placing warmly both hands on my shoulders, lowered her head to give me a big kiss on my cheek. Before I could react, she had opened the door herself and left the apartment. I stood at my door for a long time touching with a trembling hand the spot where she had kissed me. Then, still feeling slightly floating on light clouds, I walked up to the chair Elektra had occupied during our lesson, knelt down in front of it, and gave its still warm upholstery a long, passionate kiss.

I had never been through anything remotely like that in my entire life.


From that first evening on my days turned into a mere and impatient countdown until our lessons. I found myself smiling for no reason in the middle of the street, the middle of the supermarket, the middle of the gas station, the middle of nowhere. Life was just beautiful. I was literally the happiest man on earth.

Elektra made huge progress within a relatively short period of time and, after two weeks, she started to be able to conduct her first real conversation beyond a few pleasantries and silly sentences. Our lessons took place religiously every evening at eight o’clock and lasted for two hours invariably. Elektra was a committed student and I sure was an experienced teacher.

As she improved her speech I found it easier to ask her more important questions. I was very eager to know who she was but, although always with a smile and extremely politely, she somehow kept dodging questions about her past and origin. All I gathered was that she came from some Eastern European country which she astutely avoided talking much about until it became clear my curiosity wasn’t really contributing in any way to our special relationship, so precious to me. Soon I stopped asking questions I knew would only get devious answers, and I continue to respect Elektra’s anonymous past to this day.

Together with the development of our teacher-student relationship came the beginning of our incredible love affair.

As you can easily imagine I was absolutely marveled and mesmerized by my unique student, and the more at ease we felt with each other the more we relaxed our formalities. Thus, we started to dress very casually when spring was giving way to summer, which means we exposed large chunks of flesh in front of each other that, obviously, didn’t go without effect on me. I was particularly dumbfounded by her lean, long, shapely legs, which she always crossed so naturally and easily wherever she sat, including the couches we started to use for our lessons after a few weeks.

I also discovered a streak of good humor in her, especially the way she tried to imitate my accent and mannerisms when teaching. Practically every lesson I found myself cracking up at one of her sallies, which she’d totally take advantage of to make me laugh even more. I swear I kept pinching myself every morning when waking up to make sure I wasn’t just having a very long dream.

I don’t think anything else other than my many years of sexual restraint could have given me the strength to resist temptation. I knew I had a fairly good chance to be accepted by my student, had I made physically evident the mad attraction I felt for her. After all –I couldn’t help thinking with frustration– she accepted a different man almost every night of the week.

Every now and then someone would come to knock on her door and she’d let them in, but never for a long time. I don’t think she ever conducted her business at her premises. Maybe those men just came for money arrangements of some sort. I do know, though, she kept going out almost every night well after midnight because many times I was still awake and could hear her high heels tapping on the floor. I even took to getting out of bed and stretching my body out the kitchen balcony, from where I had a little view of the street below.

Elektra would go downstairs and wait seductively dressed on the street for only a few seconds, before being picked up by all sorts of expensive cars. She obviously had a busy and organized timetable and customers knew exactly when to come for her. The scene started to gnaw at my nerves as I got to know her better and better. I just couldn’t accept that a young woman like my student, with her evident capacity, would have resorted to prostitution as the way of making her living. This, together with the restraint I mentioned before, was what kept me delaying my natural impulses toward my beautiful princess.

My lovely neighbors downstairs, on the other hand, started to ease their poor opinion about the newcomer. I don’t think they ever accepted her business, but they could have hardly blamed her for or accuse her of anything wrong. She was as quiet as you could expect a neighbor to be, and she was also a good pal. As her English quickly improved and everyone saw we got on fantastically well, they gradually started to greet her with a smile and, although never what they had expected, she became part of our small community.

Only one thing remained unclear to me, though: for some reason she never invited me to her apartment. She would open the door for me and even let me once or twice into her tidy kitchen, which was the first room in the house. But she never showed me the rest of her place, even though she had gotten to see mine in its entirety, neither did she give any hints as to what it might be that prevented her from doing it. Once I even went as far as to mention it in a humorous way,

“Here opens the gate of mystery,” I said with horror-movie-like voice one day when I saw her opening her door to get into her apartment. She looked at me with a big smile and got right in without making anything of it. It still annoyed me that, here and there, some men were let in late at night, albeit for a few minutes, but I had to accept that I wasn’t but her English teacher and good neighbor, and I had no right to pry into her private affairs.

The mystery about her apartment remained unsolved for good two months until one day it was revealed to me. And when it was my life changed forever, for what I saw is –I’m convinced– the greatest miracle the world has ever witnessed.

And that’s what I’m here for; to tell you about it.

"The Teacher and the Whore"

(a giantess love story)


Chapter 6

One evening, about two months after our lessons had started, Elektra and I were sitting on the same loveseat, reading an easy book together. I remember it was an abridged version of some Agatha Christie’s M. Poirot story, made especially accessible for students of English. I swear I hadn’t read the book before, but I soon realized I might have made a mistake, for the main character, beside the clever little Belgian inspector, was a prostitute. I think I guessed at the contents of the book much before Elektra did, and by the time she realized too I was angry with myself with remorse. Once more my beautiful princess came to my rescue gently placing her beautiful hand on my lap on seeing my guilty face and saying,

“Don’t worry, Cyril. I’m not upset.”

I gently put my hand on hers and left it there for a long time, and she let me do it. That was our first real contact ever. Something told the two of us that time was ripe for further developments in our relationship. Softly taking the book and putting it on a side table, I took both of the beautiful woman’s hands in mine and said plain and straight,

“Elektra, I love you.”

She gave me her sweetest smile, brought her angelic hand up to my face, and said,

“I know, Cyril. You are very special to me, too.”

If well it’s true that I didn’t hear all I would have wished for, it was also evident that she did have feelings for me. I delicately took her hands and kissed them on their palms and fingers, letting their beauty invade my soul. She was wearing a short, simple denim dress, well above her knee, and her fantastic legs were easily crossed right under my nose. I felt a sudden urge to possess the woman, to love her right there and then, forever.

Before I knew it we had gotten up to our feet and were engaged in the most passionate kiss I had ever experienced. I remember the thrilling sensation of kissing a much taller woman for the first time in my life. The way she had lowered her head in order to prevent me from craning up mine gave my erogenous areas a sensation hitherto unknown. I don’t know how long that kiss lasted for, but I do know that I completely felt in Elektra’s hands. I had been given a free ticket into a different, better dimension I quite didn’t know how or who to thank for. I thought that was the ultimate power I could have expected from a kiss, but I was wrong.

My many weeks with Elektra the student had almost completely erased my perception of Elektra the mistress of lovemaking. She seemed to have been designed to know much better than myself what was good for me to feel or not. Little by little she started to withdraw her face from mine, pulling it slightly up. When I suddenly felt her lips leaving mine I instinctively looked for them stretching my head up in their quest. Soon I felt a little uncomfortable about having to stretch my neck, which only boosted my desire. Elektra allowed me one or two minutes more of that arousing position before proceeding to uplift her head a bit more. My neck now was hardly able to do the job anymore. Soon I found myself standing on tiptoes in order not to lose the magical contact of our lips, which had turned into the very center of my life. In the meantime I was aware that, as opposed to my now more than a little uncomfortable position on my tiptoes and craned neck, my lover was easily standing full length, her feet flat on the ground, her head still bent down a little.

She still continued to literally hold me in that position until she introduced her hand into her divine game. While keeping me firm with her long arm behind my back, she brought her free hand under my chin and gently pulled it up, making her long fingernails mildly bite into my skin.

The same kiss was still going on as I felt all my juices quickly rush up to my sluices. I knew I was ready to cum anytime if I rubbed it a little. But my tall, spectacular angel had a little surprise for me. Something I had never experienced in my life, something I hadn’t even imagined could be a turn-on. Softly whispering into my ear in her still strongly accented English she said to me,

“Now, little man, you let go when I count three. You understand?”

In the middle of my shaking I did work out that she was telling me to cum at her count of three. No. She wasn’t telling me. She was ordering me!

Had she called me ‘little man’? Soon I realized her words had actually made my first pre-spermal liquid wet my underwear.

“You understand, little man?” she repeated more firmly, and removed her mouth from mine a bit more for me to answer.

“Yes…” I said, as in a dream.

“Yes, my queen,” she corrected me.

“Yes, my queen…” I whispered.

Then I heard the word “One”, which woke my penis to its task. Elektra had pressed her lips against mine again and started to explore the interior of my mouth with her tongue. “Two”. I was gently rubbing my face against hers in ecstasy, trying to squeeze every ounce of pleasure I could get from an already surreal sensation. My liquids were now almost uncontrollably fighting not to gush out. Her last number took a little longer to come, but I did manage to hold it till then.

“Three,” my angel’s voice softly commanded.

I felt a sudden rush that seemed to suck my entire groin from the bottom of my butt to the end of my penis. The dormant desire of years of restraint seemed to come out all at once. It felt like boiling lava exploding out of a powerful volcano that had been sleeping for centuries. As I was shaking completely out of control, Elektra had effectively secured me between her strong arms, never stopping kissing me, her tongue well into my mouth.

I swear to God I don’t know how long I came for. It might as well been hours. My semen just continued to jet out impulse after impulse, as if someone had turned on a faucet only to forget to turn it off. Soon I felt the warm, thick liquid sliding down my legs. There was so much!

After what seemed to be hours of indescribable pleasure I finally felt my legs wobble and didn’t want to stop a sudden impulse to fall at my queen’s feet. Somehow she read my thoughts and slowly eased her grip and let me slide down her long, bare legs, first with my hands, then my mouth. Elektra carefully sat down again on the loveseat we had shared before, right next to us, and let me lie down at her feet for a long, long time, as she stroke my hair gently with her celestial hands while I kissed her feet as a dog licks his bone. As I was slowly becoming fully aware of this revelation and change in my life, I burst out into a passionate sob. I was crying like a baby.

I was crying tears of happiness.

"The Teacher and the Whore"

(a giantess love story)


Chapter 7


After that first sexual experience with my queen I put myself completely in her hands. During the next few days our lessons didn’t survive the initial ten or fifteen minutes of our meetings, for I was crazy with love and passion. I simply couldn’t have enough of the young goddess fate had brought to my life. She was a consummate master of love in ways that were completely unknown to me with my little experience in that field. She could literally finish me in no time with the sole power of her presence. Every caress was a message from heaven, every kiss nectar from a mythological land.

Elektra made me cum in every imaginable way, although her favorite –and mine– was stressing the tangible height gap between us. I now understood that this factor had always been absent from my lovemaking and partner choosing, which explained a lot of my apparent failure. Without ever turning up at my place with high heel shoes, her natural height was more than enough to ensure that, no matter how we stood, she was always well above my head, thus transmitting a sense of power and supremacy over me of which I just couldn’t get enough.

The most imaginable yet simple variations on that theme seemed to be always at hand in her repertoire. While cooking together in my kitchen, for instance, she’d take a frying pan I just asked her to hand me and easily put it high up on top of a cabinet quite out of my reach, and tell me,

“There it is, take it.”

I’d know then that one of her games had just begun and I’d stretch my body to its fullest to try and get it. Then, after a few good seconds of amused expression at my futile efforts, she’d slowly approach me and easily lift her hand to take the pan by its handle and give it to me saying,

“Poor little man. He need help.”

Then the kissing would start - one of those eternally long kiss encounters where her tongue would tickle every corner of my mouth while her hands would administer the most arousing massage all over my shorter body.

She made me cum in the kitchen, the bedroom, the toilet, the living room, the balcony, the second bedroom, inside the closet, the bathtub, on a chair, on the table, into the sink, the basin, a pillow, a cushion, and once even up there on the building’s roof under the stars.

She made me cum in her mouth, her breast, her hands, her legs, her feet, her toes, her hair, her ears. She made me cum a million times absolutely everywhere… everywhere except her… sex.

In the best present she’d ever give me, for some reason I never dared to question why she wasn’t letting me penetrate her. Not only that. She didn’t let me give her an orgasm either. It isn’t that she wouldn’t let me touch her. Oh no, on the contrary. I was free to explore every pore of her perfect body as much as I wanted. I could also rub frantically anywhere I wanted, including her holes with my fingers. But she never came. Not even once. She’d look at me intently while I desperately tried to make her reach a climax; she’d smile at my attempts as if I were a little gold fish trying to satisfy a shark. I was confused and frustrated about it but, curiously, I also knew she was enjoying it in her own way and felt completely unauthorized to question the secret wisdom of such a mistress of love. I just accepted the rules of her divine game as if dictated from high above. Little did I know then what she still had in store for me.


And then, one day –a day that forever will be circled in red in the history of my life– the revelation came.

We had just come back from a walk in the park one pleasant Sunday afternoon. Elektra pulled out her apartment keys to get in there to change into something lighter before coming over to my place. We were both mad with desire after the long saunter under a lovely sun and I hugged her from behind to kiss her tall back before letting her go into her apartment. As she slowly proceeded to open the door I distinctly heard a little squeak from inside.

“Gosh, Elektra,” I said feigning alarm. “I think you have a little mouse in your house. Let me go in there to see whether I can find it!”

We both knew how curious I was about her secret lodgings and her reluctance to share them with me. I genuinely thought there was a little animal or other, but the mouse allusion had merely been made up to humorously tell her how much I really wanted to finally see her home.

“No mouse, Mr. Teacher,” Elektra tickled me. “House is OK.”

I think my face must have shown very clearly how disappointed I was at the whole abnormal thing, because for the first time she gave signs of doubt. After examining my eyes for a long time she finally said,

“Cyril. There is little secret in my house.”

“Elektra, for God’s sake!” I cried. “What can possibly be so wrong as to hide it so jealously from me? Don’t you know you can trust me?”

She still took a few more seconds before saying with a mysterious smile,

“OK, Mr. Teacher. Elektra is showing you little secret.”

I thought she’d let me in, but she said I should first get into my apartment and wait for her to bring her ‘little secret’ over.

So I went into my rooms and started to tidy up a little until, a few minutes after, Elektra opened the door and got in. She had changed into some old denim shorts that exposed most of her sexy long legs, ending down in a simple pair of low sandals. I looked at her with love and affection.

She was also carrying a wooden box in her hands. It was a closed rectangle, about fifteen inches high with lots of tiny holes all over the upper part. She held it comfortably in her arms, as if she were used to carrying it often. Then she gave me that big smile of hers and said,

“Little secret!”

“Elektra, darling,” I said with a patient face. “So much fuss about a little hamster you must have in there? Or is it a guinea pig?”

She gave me another cheerful look and said,

“You sit down on chair, far. I show you it!”

So I decided to play her little game to the end and went to sit on one of the chairs around the table, while Elektra gently deposited her mysterious box on the ground, a few feet away from me. Then, bending down and putting her beautiful hands on the box’s little sliding door she asked me with a funny face,

“Ready?”

“Oh, yes,” I said with a big sigh. “Go on. Surprise me!”

And, oh man, did she surprise me! For when she lifted that opening my lower jaw fell down to the floor in astonishment.

Right inside that box I saw what seemed to be a twelve-inch tall doll. It was clearly the image of a man sitting uncomfortably on the wooden lower board. I hadn’t had time to marvel at how amazingly real the little puppet looked when I realized, to my complete bafflement, that the little thing was moving on its own. Not only that; he looked exactly as the burly guy that had banged on Elektra’s door when she had just moved in, as if it were a little replica of him. The tiny man carefully walked out of his cage and slowly started to look around, obviously unfamiliar with his surroundings. As the little being continued to move as if animated by some mysterious device, I quickly looked up at Elektra, her face still smiling, who now winked at me.

I was utterly confused because I didn’t know what to make of all that, and I was still trying to decide what was going on when I saw the little man suddenly discover that the tall woman –and certainly gigantic to him– was standing right behind him. The moment he saw her he backed off in fear, stumbling against his wooden cage and clumsily falling down. He quickly jumped back on his feet and, in the process, saw me, sitting anonymously in the distance. When he discovered my presence he suddenly started to race in my direction and shout to me, as loudly as his little lungs let him, something in his strange language.

Now, I’ve always considered myself a cool person, one of those who are slow to get desperate or angry. I remember that more than once, as when during the beginning of a quickly extinguished fire at my former school, I was among the first to take a calm attitude in front of the unknown and professionally lead others to safety. Yet now, as I saw that THING running towards me trying to desperately communicate whatever it is he wanted, I swear to God I jumped up to my feet and onto my chair as if I were an old lady ridiculously scared of a harmless little mouse. And as the little man stood down there still screaming in Southern Estonian (or whatever the hell it is they speak where they come from) while jerking his little arms in the air, I still took a further step and hopped onto the table. And I swear on my mother’s grave I would have also swung from the chandelier if it weren’t for the fact that I saw Elektra exploding with laughter.

She was just bending over, grabbing at her stomach, and kicking the ground as she desperately tried to overcome the fit of hilarity that was almost making her choke as she shook with spasms of enjoyment. So this was the scenario, my friends: the little jerk looking up at me still trying to get my attention with his sharp squeak, me looking down at him in disbelief while begging Elektra to do something about it, and she drying her tears as she tried hard to overcome the laugh attack that almost breaks her.

“Elektra, for God’s sake!” I screamed. “Take that, that… THING away from me!”

I still had to beg her two or three more times before she was actually capable of calming down a little and take control of the situation. Man, was I scared!

And then… then… then, my friends, I saw for the first time in my life the display of Elektra’s unique power over a tiny man, her complete control, her total command. For, as I was still begging her to do something bout it, she slowly walked up to the little man, still shouting, and said something in their language to him. I don’t know what it was, but it had the tone of something like ‘OK, little man, now you better pipe down.’

The midget, a bit taken aback by her sudden interference in his gibberish, looked quickly at the woman’s long legs and made an attempt to run away. He hadn’t given two steps yet when a firmer, stronger command came out from Elektra’s mouth, making him freeze on the spot. Then she bent down, and gently took the tiny man closing her beautiful –and, now, deadly powerful– fingers around his body. I’ll never forget that scene where the impossibly tall woman majestically walked to her chair, carrying the impotent little man in her strong hand while he just dangled loosely from it.

Sitting on another chair at the other end of the table, Elektra said to me while still smiling,

“I told you! Little secret.”

I tried to answer, to say something, but I was at loss for words. Still looking in disbelief at the unbelievable scene, I did manage to climb down the table and then the chair, and sit down again as I watched my girl and her little whatever in astonishment. She sat down on her chair and crossed her long, slender legs, coming down from her sexy shorts. Then she placed the tiny man on her lap facing forward, his back against her flat stomach. A couple of times he tried to break free from her grip, even though he must have known he didn’t have a chance. Elektra was looking at me, not him. But her deft hands and fingers were dealing with the little being as if they knew what to do without the aid of sight. Obviously she was going through a ceremony she knew very well. In no time, she had every limb of his small body effectively immobilized.

My mouth still open agape, I kept shifting my eyes from the mini-man to the mega-woman holding him. Elektra was looking at me with intensity while never losing her suggestive smile. Her expression was asking ‘do you like what you see?’ As I calmed down a bit more I understood she was about to entertain me with a show. I was fast moving into a new phase of my life and millions of thoughts were invading my head with supersonic speed. I knew something had changed forever and I was thrilled and scared to death at the same time.

Never uttering a word, the gorgeous woman brought her right hand into the picture too, indifferently taking the little man’s penis with two of her heavenly fingers. His tiny member jumped to life in a split of a second. Yet Elektra was still looking at me. She was about to show me what she was capable of, knowing –way before me– how much I was going to enjoy it myself. Still stabbing me with her sharp eyes, she erotically passed her tongue between her lips and applied her fingers to the captive’s little penis again. There was some resistance from the midget, which was immediately dealt with by the giantess. She slid her long-nailed thumb under his small chin and pushed it quickly up, making him stretch his neck into a very uncomfortable position, while pinning his legs and arms against her vast lap with her other fingernails. Then she started to work at his penis again, using thumb and forefinger with amazing dexterity and control. Soon the little man’s futile squirms to break free turned into a reluctant acceptance of unsolicited pleasure. His eyes rolled up in ecstasy and he started to accompany her massage with a rhythmical movement of his entrapped body. Within a few seconds a tiny jet of whitish liquid had spurted out of his penis, sprinkling Elektra’s fingers and his own little thighs.

Although I was still flabbergasted, I did have the lucidity of mind to realize that I was having a huge erection myself. And, judging by the way Elektra looked at me, she had to know it too, as now I know she did. I saw with fascination how she put her fingers to his mouth and made him lick his own cum off them until they were clean again. I thought the act was over, but she still had more in store for me.

Before the little man had time to recover from his strong ejaculation, Elektra had flipped him over along the extension of her crossed leg. Now his ridiculous bottom was facing up while his body was kept flat against her long leg with her huge left hand. Using again thumb and forefinger, she proceeded to separate both his bum cheeks with her long, strong nails. He hadn’t had time to complain about it yet when she deftly inserted her pinky nail into his little ass. The man gave a squeak of pain and his tiny legs flapped desperately in the air, although soon he stopped, as his kicking only intensified the pain.

Never taking her eyes off mine, she must have kept him like that for good two minutes before suddenly removing her nail from his hole. There was an immediate sigh of relief, which didn’t last too long, as the beautiful and completely relaxed giantess continued her show. She wetted some of her fingers with a good quantity of saliva and then smeared it all over his tiny groin. The rubbing started right away, giving him a mixture of pleasure and humiliation, as the first time. It took him now longer, but he came again after a while. I felt my own pants beginning to get wet.

Finally, she took the now flabby little naked man in her hand again and gently put him back on the ground, right next to her colossal feet, imparting also a verbal order, her first words since the act had started.

I saw the man immediately kneel down in front of Elektra’s now lethally sexy legs and bend his head down, arms crossed behind his tiny back, eyes shut, in an ultimate position of worship and humiliation. Then I looked up at the woman’s eyes again, still smiling at me, I not knowing what to say. Eventually she broke the silence,

“You like my secret?”

Against all the codes and morals I had been taught and fervently professed from my early childhood, I found myself slowly nodding my head affirmatively. My new life was about to start, and I was quite ready to go for it no matter what. For I had had a glimpse of paradise.

The Teacher and the Whore"

(a giantess love story)


Chapter 8


Although now I’m used to most of what I’m telling you, that first encounter with a little man had a magical, fascinating, almost out-of-this-world effect on me. I remember that although I had a million questions dancing around my head an even stronger, prevailing feeling invaded my very last cell. I was mad with desire.

Elektra had put the little man back into his wooden box and asked me for a minute to take him back to her apartment. During the brief time she took to do it I stood up from the chair I had been glued to with amazement all along her performance and paced the room trying to take in the huge amount of emotions I was coping with. I wanted her. I needed her. I worshipped her as the dog worships its master because, not only was she the most attractive woman I had ever seen, but she also knew a universe foreign to me, foreign to everybody.

By the time she returned I was almost in tears with arousal. She was wearing the same denim shorts and loose T-shirt, but now, for the first time since we were dating, she had changed her low sandals for a white pair of high-heel shoes. As she closed the door behind her and looked at me with intensity, her wonderful long legs, now even longer in her heels, looked like a terrifyingly beautiful pair of flesh-made scissors.

I looked at her, crazy with lust, and Elektra, narrowing her green eyes, slowly bent a finger summoning me to come up to her. I walked toward her with reverential paucity and stood right in front of her imposing body, carefully studying her now much taller face, at least eleven inches above mine. I knew we were about to spend our best night yet and my heart was beating frantically even before I touched her.

What started with one of those eternally long and arousing kisses ended up many, many hours later, as we were still rolling over in bed until the early hours of the morning. That night, too –now that I knew the secret– she finally opened her gate to me, allowing me to enter. And, God, did I do it! I fucked her once, I fucked her twice, and I fucked her a million times, all night. I just couldn’t stop nor could I have enough. I had received the strength of a stallion and enough cum to glue wallpaper in every room of our entire apartment block.

And if you think that I was a view you should have seen her. Because not only did I penetrate her but she also went all the way to the end, reaching such a quantity of orgasms as to compensate for all her weeks of restraint. Our shouts of sheer pleasure must have traveled all around the little town and prevented everyone from sleeping. But who could have cared less? I was having an open-face, unique date with heavenly bliss and wasn’t going to preoccupy myself with worldly conventions.

I don’t think I had winked an eye by the time I forced myself out of bed and into the shower to go to work early on Monday morning. I certainly have no recollections whatsoever of that day in the classroom. I probably fell asleep at my desk while giving my pupils an easy assignment to keep them busy.

I do remember, though, Ms. Pembers ever-strict expression at my poor teaching performance that morning at school.

“Whatever is going on with you!” she said firmly, although she didn’t delve into it.

A bit more relaxed once I came back home, I had gained enough clarity of mind as to ask Elektra the obvious questions in the wake of her incredible revelation. I found her at my place, happily making some food. The minute I came in she quickly skipped up to me and hugged me while engulfing my mouth in an erotic kiss. I felt I could die there and then, having already seen and lived more than any mortal could actually aspire to.

Over dinner I had decided she was going to tell me what her mystery was. I just couldn’t ignore the fact that she had to have access to some sort of secrets that made it possible for her to possess such a little person in her own apartment. All along our meal and later that night she told me, in her still primitive English, her full story.

Elektra had lost absolutely everybody in life. She just didn’t have a clue as to who her parents or family (close or distant) were. If there had ever been a lone person in this world, that had to be her. She had grown up in an orphanage, badly treated by careless, indifferent, even wicked staff. Not only had she been used and abused but also, as it became evident she was fast becoming a tall beauty, they had trained her –as they usually did with pretty girls– for prostitution. She had been sleeping with men of the worst class since she was thirteen. She literally didn’t know any other kind of life. What she told me that night about abusive men in her record can hardly be put down and I myself don’t want to recall it. I only hope those bastards roast in hell for the rest of their doomed lives.

When the girl turned eighteen and became an adult she was at last free to leave the orphanage and she did so. But, still very young, she had been convinced with frightening arguments that, unless she continued with the only activity she knew in life, she’d be lost forever. A not altogether unreasonable amount of money was offered her in exchange for her work, although most of the cash a young beauty like her generated was safely kept in her bosses’ pockets. Not surprisingly, the little man I had seen the previous day, was one of them.

“Bad man,” she said.

The story went that, at age twenty-one, sick and tired of her lowly life, and about to send everything to hell in spite of her fears, her bosses had concluded that the wisest step was to move to this country in which, they had told her, money grew on the trees. For the first month or so life had really improved for her. They had bought her new and attractive outfits that made her look like the princess she really was and made an effort to get her but the most feasible men in town. But soon the spell ended, as they didn’t care whether she was treated badly or abused, until she just realized she had had enough.

“That’s why I make him little,” she explained.

“You ‘make’ him little?” I repeated her sentence with a question mark. “You?”

“Yes,” she said simply. And then proceeded to tell me the story of her powers.

Very early in life she had realized she could do strange things with living creatures if she ‘thought’ about them in a certain way. Even as a child she’d entertain herself making a little cat or dog wriggle funnily at her focusing on them. What hadn’t provoked but an itch during her tender childhood became more serious and developed when she reached her teens. She told me how frightened she had become when an ant had disappeared from under her sight after she had ‘thought’ about it in her special way.

Much as she was scared, she had also been curious to see and develop what her power was about. And so it was that, when no one noticed and in her free time she had experimented on different smaller animals, which invariably found themselves reduced to a tiny fraction of their original sizes. By the time she was a fully developed young lady she had also complete control on her peculiar quality. She had tried it about with every sort of animal… every living creature except… humans.

It was obvious that she possessed a most effective weapon against any sort of abuse, but she was highly reluctant to try to use it against the rude men she had to constantly deal with. So, in spite of a couple of nasty occasions she would have gladly applied it against an abusive man, she had always refused to take such a step. Until one night, unaware of her surroundings, she was attacked on the street by a gang of ruffians who had already effectively reduced her against the ground and were about to rape her to death. Scared to use her powers, but not as much as of going through their plans for her, Elektra had just sent her special waves across their brains, instantly shrinking all three of them.

She funnily told me the peculiar chase that had actually followed her defense. Because she for sure didn’t want to leave such traces behind. After a good half-hour of looking for each one of them individually she had managed to collect them all into a plastic bag she had picked up from the dirty street.

Taking her bounty home and hiding it in an ingenious recess, she had had plenty of time to study her victims over the next many months. That’s how, on top of her vast knowledge of what a man was like in bed, she was now quickly acquiring expertise in their psychology when confronted with a giant female that could do with them whatever she wished. She felt completely entitled to keep them prisoners and at her service after they had clearly shown that her life was worth nothing to them. And there was still another reason for her keeping and watching them at close range.

If well it was true she had a most mysterious power to shrink living creatures, Elektra had soon realized the animals she used to reduce during her experimenting period used to recover their normal sizes after a few days. In a way it was comforting to know that she wasn’t able to inflict permanent harm on a most innocent little mouse, or dog. So it was that after shrinking these first three men back in her country she had immediately gotten concerned about the situation after they’d get back to be their full sizes. She had come to the conclusion she’d have to keep shrinking them forever unless she got definitely rid of them while still little, when an accidental observation gave her the most fascinating answer.

Watching closely the behavior of these three little fellows right after she had shrunken them, it soon became obvious that one of them wasn’t growing back as the other two were. Elektra also hit on the right reason: the little monkey was masturbating like mad. It was then that she decided to try the method that finally ensured their permanent tiny size for as long as she wished. It was a question of sexual release. As long as the little man ejaculated at least once every two or three days his possibility of re-growth was close to non-existent. And thus it was that, much as she thought she’d find it boring, the beautiful woman started to administer her most unusual method for the ‘keeping’ of a little man. It wasn’t long before she also started to enjoy the way the tiny men uselessly resisted her treatment. They knew as well as she did that complete abstinence was the key to normal size, and had tried absolutely all their strongest ideas in order to combat Elektra’s effective applications. God! I could already imagine what their puny efforts to fend off such a peculiar torture must have looked like.

I heard her out with fascination and tried to find out more about the origin of her powers, but she, not knowing who her parents were, didn’t have a clue herself. She didn’t know about others with similar powers, either. All she knew was that it had somehow developed in her and it seemed now completely natural to have and apply it whenever necessary. Beside the three men mentioned before she had a few others in her collection, including the guy I saw and his brother (both her ex abusive bosses), one more from her city, and two English speakers since her arrival here, for whom she had found it necessary to learn the language in order to communicate. All eight of them were alive and safely kept in her apartment, which was the reason she had been so reluctant to let me in so far.

“You have eight little men over there?” I asked, completely fascinated.

“Yes,” she answered with a simple smile.

As for her profession, well, now she was her own boss (another reason to learn the local language) and could select her clients at her own discretion, not to mention her higher income, actually very high indeed. I also took the liberty to hint that I was quite ready to support her until her English was good enough to get a proper job or even study, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She said she’d work it out herself in the future. I quickly understood that Elektra was the one woman in this world who’d never put herself in the hands of a man for her security. She had seen too much of their behavior to risk total trust, even when she said she did trust me.

I didn’t insist.

The previous sleepless night and long day coming now to their end finally settled in my system and I quickly retired to bed, sleeping well until next morning.


When I came back next evening Elektra was waiting for me with another delicious dinner ready for us. We kissed passionately and sat to eat her excellent European cuisine. I had been debating with myself all day whether to talk to her about what had consumed my imagination during the long hours I spent daydreaming at school, and now was the time. There were a couple of days holidays coming up right before the weekend, meaning I’d have at least four days run to enjoy myself to the fullest with my gorgeous girlfriend. But her presence wasn’t enough. No. Not any more. Now that I knew the secret I couldn’t resist the temptation anymore. God knew I was scared to death of what I was about to ask, but an incredibly strong impulse pushed me toward the inevitable.

“Elektra…”

My tone put her on alert immediately. She looked into my eye and put down her dishes to indicate she was listening attentively. Her expression was quiet. She knew, God, she knew!

I got up from my seat and walked up to her chair. I knelt down in front of her sweet lap and looked up at her face in reverence. She stroked my hair with her lean fingers and waited for me to bring out what she knew I wanted.

“Elektra, love… Elektra… make me little…” I whispered.

She continued her gentle caress while keeping her sweet smile on her face.

“You don’t afraid?” she asked teasingly.

“No, love,” I answered kissing her hands. ‘I’m not afraid.”

She studied my expression for a few more seconds with compassion and understanding.

“Yes, Mr. Teacher,” she finally said with a smile, “Elektra make you little.”

I heard her words and felt a rush creep up my spine. Such emotion was unknown to me. I was speechless. I was numb. I couldn’t even look into her eyes anymore. I just dug my face into her lap and waited there for something to happen.

Elektra slowly rose to her feet and invited me to do the same. We cleared the table as usual and took care of the dishes. Then we tidied up the living room and then the bedroom. We hardly opened our mouths. I knew I was about to live the miracle and she respected my feelings.

I saw her slowly change into a sexy pink silk nightgown and put on a pair of white high heels. I didn’t know why, but she wanted to offer me the best, even though no mortal could have possibly ask for more that I was about to get already. Then, taking gently my hand, Elektra helped me take off my clothes and led me to my double bed, where I lay down completely naked. She sat by my side and gently passed her hand over my chest, provoking an immediate erection. But soon I realized that wasn’t the focus of her attention. She was thinking about something else. Looking intensively into my eyes I felt my will get lost in the green of hers. As she intensified her concentration I felt a sort of funny feeling spread all over my body. Soon I couldn’t feel it at all and had a natural reaction to defend myself from the foreign sensation. I desperately tried to move my arms and legs but they were dead. I just couldn’t control my body any longer. The last thing I remember is that Elektra rolled up her eyes to close them immediately after. I saw her pale face become a view of terrifying control. She was a sphinx, a goddess, a legend. Soon I lost consciousness.

I had passed away.

When I opened my eyes again the world had changed.

Come!

Come with me, my friends. Let me show you what sex with a giantess is like.

The Teacher and the Whore"

(a giantess love story)



Chapter 9


I am lying down on my double bed, which now feels as huge as a circus arena under my back. I open my eyes and blink repeatedly until my blurred sight becomes clear. A massive figure of a woman is right in front of me. She is sitting on the edge of the enormous mattress and only her upper body is visible to me. Her beautiful face is smiling sweetly down at me. In spite of all my preparation for and awareness of what’s supposed to be happening I feel a wave of extreme fear run through my body. It must show on my expression, for Elektra’s becomes even sweeter and reassuringly soothing. She avoids all sort of corporal contact, even though I know her natural impulse would be to caress me. I register all this subconsciously and feel immediately better. I manage a little smile, which soon becomes a wide grin. The miracle is happening and I’m living it.

I slowly rise to my feet, my head slightly below her breast level. I look at its immensity and feel very small and insignificant in comparison. I’m only twelve inches high but Elektra’s size is beyond all calculations. She might as well be a thousand feet tall. She belongs to a different dimension. She is an angel. She is a goddess.

I feel now an irresistible happiness to be about to enjoy the unique experience fate has mysteriously granted me. Elektra looks at me with maternal eyes and slowly brings her beautiful hand up to level with my forehead. Her hand is perfect. Her fingers, white and long, are straight and without fault. They end in carefully manicured long, strong nails, one of which delicately removes a lock of hair on my temple replacing it behind my ear. This first, flimsiest of contacts is enough to make my nipples protrude in desire and my penis stretch to its fullest short length. I have goose bumps all over my skin. I feel mad with lust. I take her fingers with both my hands and kiss their tips. She waits patiently for me to finish my long, luscious kiss and gently strokes my cheeks with her fingertips.

Then I walk toward her lap and climb up onto her sexy pink silk robe. I find it a bit hard to stand on the slippery surface while keeping my balance. Her gorgeous, strong hands come once more in my rescue as I almost slide off her gown. I am now standing right next to her massive, exuberant breasts and look up at her face to see her reaction. She is still smiling widely, saying without words to her little man that he can do whatever he feels like doing to his gigantic goddess. Softly drawing open both sides of her gown’s neckline, I can now see her deliciously inviting bosom heaving in her white lace brassiere. The plastic clip is right there in the front, exactly between her boobs. I take both pieces with my hands and try to turn them in the right direction to open them, but they are too hard against Elektra’s huge breast pressure. I try again with renewed strength and my head starts turning red with the effort, but the plastic clips don’t give in. I look up again at my angel, who seems to be asking with her smile,

“What happens, little man, is even this small introduction to sex with a giantess too much for you?”

I look embarrassed in my smallness and shyly look at the goddess pointing at my first obstacle for her to help me. She brings her divine hands to the clip and easily snaps it open, the enormous mass of her generous breasts now liberated to show itself in all its glory. Her nipples are red swollen and sticking out. I slowly put my hand on one of them. It feels soft and firm at the same time. I give it a little squeeze and Elektra mourns with pleasure. Her reaction boosts my courage. Striding on her velvety lap, I grab both her nipples with my hands and start massaging them strongly. Elektra sends her head back and pants erotically at the massage rhythm. She takes my little shoulders with her hands and starts to rub my chest with her thumbs. My erection seems to burst at the seams. Then I put my mouth to one of her breasts and start to suck at her nipple. My goddess slowly begins to lean back and I struggle to hold balance as she finds a comfortable position.

She is now lying on the bed, her back flat against the sheets. I explore every corner of her soft tits and, once satisfied, I walk on the bed right up to her face, gently looking at me with bright green eyes. I am now very close to her mouth and can smell the rose aroma full of young life breathing into my whole body. I kneel down and gently put my mouth to hers. I see her closing her eyes and I close mine as we kiss passionately for a long time. When we finish Elektra slowly sits up and delicately takes me in her hands to put me down on the floor.

I am standing on the familiar rug next to my bed, which now feels like woolen grass under my naked feet. Elektra still has her white high heel shoes on. They look spectacular, almost as big as I am, their heel about as high as my waist. My attention is now focused on the beautiful woman’s sexy feet, their insteps leading up to her attractive ankles and amazing legs above. She is still sitting on the bed, her knees well above my head, their perfect inaccessible roundness now an object of desire. In an unexpected move, Elektra beautifully crosses her perfect legs into a fantastically suggestive position.

“Do you like what you see?” she seems to be asking me.

I kneel down at her shoes and start to kiss her feet from bottom to top. I stand up and continue to kiss her ankle and leg as far as my twelve inches permit. Then I come across the giantess’s hands, which gently pull me away a few inches. I understand she’s about to stand up. I step back, making room for her. Within a second the gorgeous goddess is up on her feet. What I see from below is simply the most breathtakingly sexy view a man has ever contemplated.

A forty-foot high towering beauty is looking down at little me with a sweet smile on her pretty face. Her legs, like two powerful white marble columns stand firmly on a pair of sexily gigantic pair of shoes. Her short, flimsy silk gown is now open, thus exposing the giantess’s full-breasted body’s colossal proportions. I look at her sex, now open and inviting. Its fine mat of short wet blond hair seems to be looking down at me, calling for me to explore it. Elektra’s breathing becomes audible; she is as excited as I am. To make the view perfect, she puts her hands to her hips. Her bust expands and her face radiates desire. The goddess, in her full glory, has graciously granted a mythological gift to the little mortal.

I take a few steps further back to better contemplate the unique vision. I put my hands together to my mouth to cover my emotion. My eyes fill up with tears. Beauty in its extreme can blind and hurt. I’m too little to take in so much. Elektra continues to smile and takes her gown off, gently tossing it on the bed. She is now completely naked, except for her shoes. With one gigantic yet careful step, she’s covered a few of mine within a second. The proximity of her massive shoe stresses our size difference in its largest gap. She slowly walks around me and I spin around in fascination, never stopping looking up at her angel-like face.

Then she gently crouches down and her knees are now looming over my head. Her leg muscles tighten up with the bending knees. Elektra’s hands surround my fragile body, the ‘L’ between her thumb and fingers right under my armpits. The show is about to start.

She quickly stands up, and I feel taken off the ground as if I were in one of those flying umbrellas at the entertainment fair. I’m shooting up with vertigo and an exciting jet of emotion settles at the bottom of my stomach. Elektra is now holding me in her firm hands, right in front of her beautiful face, my legs floating in the air. I’m grabbing her hands with my arms and feel afraid of the height in spite of knowing I’m safe. I manage a smile to show my gigantic angel that I’m all right. She then places me gently on her shoulder, from where I can have a panoramic view of my bedroom, now a huge precinct of enormous proportions. I’m fascinated with Elektra’s neck, long and white, a few stray blonde hairs tickling my body with their ends. I feel her lean her body sideways and I lose balance, involuntarily sliding along her chest. The way down is slow and I manage to control its speed, although not its destiny. Our skins slightly rub against each other but soon I got where my goddess sent me with her move. My little legs have reached her massive breasts and now my penis and crotch are gently sliding down along them. My hands grab at her shoulder, but she leans forward. Once I lose my grip she straightens up again and I find myself literally stretched against her bosom. I can feel her softness against my aroused body, and the beating of her young heart telling me how much she wants me.

But my grip is giving way now, and I sense I might be soon falling down unless she takes me. But her hands are aside and she doesn’t seem to notice how badly I need her help. I’m going down, oh, God, I’m falling off…

“Elektraaaaaaa…”

I feel her strong hands catching me in the air. She’s just given me a taste of her supreme strength and control. I look at her huge eyes with reverence and she smiles back at me. She’s sentenced and saved me within a split of a second and can do it again and again as long as she wants, and there is nothing I, little insignificant man, can do about it.

She holds me again with stretched arms and positions me a few feet over the bed, right above a soft pillow. Suddenly opening her hands, I find my self flying down in a free fall and easily parachuting on the pillow below. As I roll down onto the bed she sits down on it and removes her shoes. She stretches her long legs along my bed and lies down at my side. She looks relaxed and comfortable, and gives me a naughty smile. Carefully placing her huge beautiful hand on my chest she gently pushes me. I lose balance and find myself lying on the soft sheet. I immediately stand up again, but am instantly knocked down by her powerful palm. My third attempt ends up with the same result. Now she has flattened me against the mattress and I can’t stand any more. I try to gently move her hand aside, but she presses a bit more. Escape is impossible. I try a bit harder, a simple joke for her. I’ve lost our little battle and look at her sweet eyes, silently admitting defeat. She lifts her hand and lets me stand again.

Then she lies back and bends her knees upwards, her legs forming a low hill of tender flesh. She looks at me and taps her groin with her finger. I’m being summoned to sit on her uphill lap. I obediently sit where she tells me; it feels soft and comfortable on the velvety surface of her pubic hair. I’m looking at her beautiful eyes and I see her finger come and delicately slide under my chin and pull it up. I lift my face and keep it up even though she has removed her finger. She gently scratches my sensitive chest with her sharp nails, while carefully pinching my nipples. My ecstasy has become almost hard to endure. I mourn with pleasure and impulsively take her finger in my hands and bite its tip hard enough for her to feel it.

She takes my whole body in her hands again and quickly brings me to her mouth. Now I’m very close to her face and our breathing shows clearly that time has come. She brings me even closer and puts her gorgeous lips around my tiny penis. I immediately feel in heaven. Her gentle pressure is so fantastic I could stay there forever. Still holding me in her hands Elektra slowly starts sucking at my member. I feel my sexual system at work from the back of my anus forward. And with every new contraction of her lips my arousal grows to unknown sensations. She suddenly puts her tongue to my tip, deep inside her mouth, and my knees yield in ecstasy. She holds me firmly in her hands while continuing to suck. I’ve clumsily collapsed on her beautiful face, as I can’t stand on my feet any longer. And she continues her lip massage, now gently pressing my bottom against her face with her fingers. I start moving rhythmically at her sucking. I’m about to cum, to explode. We are dancing the song of love, her sucking, my rocking…

I cum as I never did in my life before. I just burst into a fit of jerks and electric wriggles. I don’t know how my little body could have produced so much. I let my body melt on my goddess’s face and the last drops of nectar come out of my system. And she sucks it all, never opening her mouth. In a masterful combination of lip and tongue action, she extracts from me as much as she wants and swallows it all with little sounds of delight.

Suddenly opening her mouth and releasing her grip on me, I gently roll down to her breasts and just lie there, my eyes closed in desire, trying to live the moment to its very last second. I feel Elektra’s playful finger gently poking my belly. I open my eyes and look at her. She is so beautiful. She just is so amazing, so fantastic, so perfect! I kiss her perfect tits while swimming on them. She laughs as it tickles her. But then she takes me again in her powerful hands and gently places me between her open legs. I look at her. Her expression is undeniable. Time to work!

I kneel down in front of her opening, right between her legs. I slowly insert my arm in her, looking for her clit. I take it firmly in my hand and squeeze it until she starts panting. Her eyes are now closed, her face serious and with a clear expression of strong passion. I continue my massage, using also my whole arm, as the area gets wet with her juices. Her hands are now rubbing her huge legs, her fingers extended, her long nails dangerously cutting the air at either side of my puny body. I speed up my massage and Elektra’s legs tighten up, now closing on me. I feel trapped, yet secure. My arms are still free and my rubbing goes into frenzy. Within a minute she has cum. Powerful waves of muscle contractions squeeze my little body between the giantess’s frightening legs. I become concerned about my position and am about to shout to Elektra. But soon I realize she knows what’s going on, for she slowly but surely releases the tension until her legs are only firm and cushioned walls for my body. I kneel down at her sex and kiss it passionately. Soon I feel her hands gently rub my back. I walk up her sensual face and whisper into her ear the only words that have been pronounced since the beginning of the act,

“I love you, Elektra.”

She looks sweetly at me and I know she loves me too.