AROUND THE WORLD WITH MY LITTLE SECRET

"Spaghetti Sushi"


1

Bologna is not the first name that comes to mind when talking about
Italy, not even about its north. Yet, with the secret and fascinating
mystery that awaits us round every little corner in life, it is
exactly in this city that the following story took place, not long
ago.

I had to go to Milan to see a couple of clients on a business trip
that wouldn't take long but that I was planning to extend -if I
could-, as I usually do, to tour a little around, see a couple of
galleries and, hopefully, get to know a few new ones. I had nearly
decided to pay a short visit to Florence or Venice again -cities to
which I've been many times in my life and are so full of beautiful
memories- when I had the fortunate idea to book a hotel in Bologna
instead, a town that had been highly recommended to me by my bank
manager in Milan. Evasioni, my travel agent, had eventually suggested
the Grand Hotel Baglioni, right on Via dell'Independenza, not far
from the train station and exactly in the middle of everything of
interest in Bologna. I had three or four days at my disposal, which I
was intent on spending slowly but surely getting to know a new city
in my repertoire of so many others along my trips round the world.

You see, I'm a thorough traveler as well as a pedantic tourist. I
find it hard to understand how people jump desperately from country
to country, town to town, site to site, over their short holidays. I
might be a biased judge, though, as -I must admit- not everyone is in
a position to take enough days off, and enough breaks along the year
to fully enjoy, experience and understand the immeasurable pleasures
of every little spot the world has to offer, especially in the Old
Continent, and even more so in such a unique country as my dear
Italy.

But enough of my ramblings about the ideal tourist and the perfect
trip as no one is reading this to learn how to program a vacation.
Besides, I've wondered many times whether I would get the enjoyment
I'll tell you about if it weren't for my little secret.

I was perfectly happy with my hotel and, as you'll see, I had made
sure to be under the best of terms with the assistant manager, a fine
and slightly overweighed man named Girolamo. Having seen his
inconspicuous body I had been right in striking a casual and friendly
conversation with him about Italian food, of which my knowledge is
considerably poorer than on French. His lively explanation about the
world famous Spaghetti Bolognese was most instructive.

"But you, sir," Girolamo told me, "are too thin to be
a pasta lover".

"My body, my dear friend," I told him with a smile,
"would deceive the most professional cook". 'And
scientist', I added to myself.

My first day in Bologna was a complete delight. I walked about town
holding a street map and local colored guide I had acquired at a
nearby tourist information center. I marveled at the striking red and
pink hues of most historic buildings and stood in awe both in front
and inside the impressive, albeit unfinished, cathedral. It was also
comforting to confirm that my memory hadn't misled me when I
remembered Bologna had been the first university in Europe. But what
really attracted my attention was when, rather late on that first
day, I suddenly found myself standing right across from the leaning
tower, not that of Pisa, but the one of Bologna, which for me (as
surely for most of you), was a completely unheard of site. Yet, as
the lover of heights that I've always been, it was the taller, much
straighter, tower next to the leaning one that bought me over. My
booklet on Bologna said it was possible to climb to its top for a
reasonable fee although, somewhat to my disappointme!
nt, closing time was already over. I immediately made up my mind to
come back next day and, after a rather uneventful evening, it wasn't
long before I went back to my comfortable hotel room, worked as
little as I could at my laptop, and fell peacefully asleep in this
city of dreams.

For understandable reasons, as every tourist will agree, I found it
hard to accept when, next day, I woke up to a rather gray, cloudy
day. I am not easily deterred by adverse conditions, but I thought it
just wouldn't be the same to tour the city under a drizzle, let alone
the blurred view of Bologna I would inevitably get from atop the
tower. My fears proved to be wrong, as I ended up owing to the stormy
weather the unforgettable time I had over there. It was precisely
that gray sky that revealed the woman to me.

After a delicious breakfast at the hotel I decided it was the ideal
day for a museum, which also left some hope for a clearer afternoon
and outdoor activities. As it happened I invested most of my time
touring three or four of the palazzi, including the famous Palazzo
dell'Archiginnasio, which was the seat of Bologna University for
three hundred years before it moved to the Palazzo Poggi, at the
beginning of the nineteenth century. About four o'clock in the
afternoon I looked up at the sky and saw that the annoying drizzle
seemed to finally be giving way and I made up my mind to go for the
two towers I had seen the day before. I was there after a few
minutes' walk, as everything is so delightfully close by in all these
medieval towns. I stepped into the taller tower (and only one open to
the public, as the other one is ridiculously tilted) through the iron
gate and bought my ticket at the rather deserted window. The guy
behind looked very bored indeed and made no great effor!
ts to appease my concerned expression when I looked at the ancient
and frightening stone walls, nowadays reinforced everywhere with
sturdy metal stripes. Looking up into the wooden and equally old
staircase, which tapered away into an invisible spot somewhere above,
I realized the huge sign warning that the tower was 97 meters high
(about 300 feet) was quite justifiably there. Now, I'm a fit man,
still young, and nothing whets more my appetite than a fair physical
challenge. Besides, as I took my first steps into the stairs I heard
voices of a few people coming down, including a child's. Then I knew
it would be all right.

The climb turned out to be a tough one indeed. What I had seen from
the bottom wasn't but the first stage of steps of five or six more I
encountered along my way up, ever narrower, steeper and more
dangerous. I did cross my path with two or three more people or tiny
group of them climbing down, all of us invariably panting and
stupidly smiling at each other, as we squeezed our bodies to make
way. Long vertical slots along the tower let light and a refreshing
breeze through the thick walls. Finally, after what seemed a never
ending amount of time, I reached the last flight of stairs. Wiping
the sweat off my brow I made it to the narrow wooden door that led
into the roof.

I must say my effort was absolutely rewarded. The cool, clean air
and, above all, the fantastic view from the top was a sight I'll find
it hard to forget, in spite of the heavy clouds. You could see the
entire red city from the best spot in town, and far into the
surrounding hills with all their constructions, new and all,
scattered over them. It was a glorious moment, one in which you feel
united with the world, its people and history. I made sure to go
round all four sides of the tower and appreciate the different angles
of the view before I took a few minutes to relax and decide when to
get back down.

I found my own space on one of the corners and placed my body against
the wall from where I could also see the people around me. There
weren't many, maybe fewer than a dozen. I saw a mother speaking in
perfect Italian to her two sons of maybe fourteen and nine, who
answered her in perfect English with British accent, I saw a German
couple in their mid fifties hardly exchanging a word but very
seriously appreciating the view and taking selective pictures with a
sophisticated camera. There were also two Australian youngsters with
long blond hair and beard, smoking away and chatting quietly about
girls, and a lone tourist of unknown origin as he didn’t speak and
was dressed as any Western man would be. So what really attracted my
attention was the only odd one out: a Japanese woman of thirty, or
less, of very white complexion and quite elegantly dressed, as I
always am myself.

Now, as the big traveler I've been all my life, I consider myself to
be a citizen of the world. Japan is a country I also have some
business with and I've been to more than once. Yet my knowledge of it
is still quite scant. Its people remain a bit of a mystery to me and,
to be honest, I've never developed a taste for its women. As we all
know this is a matter almost impossible to tackle without admitting
in the end that it all boils down to a question of personal taste,
upbringing and social and cultural patterns. The only reason I'm
putting this down is not to justify my likes but to enhance the fact
that the Japanese lady in question did exercise a strong drive on me.

I've learnt to never question my instincts in life. They are my best
friends, they are the sensors that know me as nothing else does and,
to sum it up, they are the real me. Like it or not, when I feel
something is right (or wrong) I just go by it. And this is precisely
what was occurring right now. I kept stealing glances at the woman,
who was quietly enjoying the view -as we all were- with a pleasant
smile on her oval face, giving tiny steps in her fine clear shoes on
the ancient stone floor. Within a few seconds I had made up my
strategy. All I needed was a little eye contact, maybe a slight
physical touch and, hopefully, some good luck. Slipping my hand into
the pocket of my jacket I drew out a small camera I usually carry on
me on pleasure trips even though I'm not a keen photo taker. After
making a couple of pictures myself I bided my time and casually
turned round when she was right behind me. Facing her straight, I put
on my most winning smile and said in a gentleman!
ly fashion,

"Would you be so kind as to take my picture?" and stretched
out my arm offering her my camera.

The lady smiled in turn and, most naturally, said "Of
course".

I liked her pose, her response and her perfect accent. Then the first
sign came in. When depositing the camera into her hands I felt both
the softness and firmness in them, and saw at close range her
perfectly manicured nails, of medium length and delicately polished.
They were warm and nice to the touch. Things were definitely going
well. A lady with good hands is an unsurpassable starting point for
me. I knew I'd still have to go some way before knowing for sure that
she was what I had an instinct she would be, and I was ready to act
and wait. But, then, luck was on my side. For as she put the camera
to her face and I was looking in its direction, just a split of a
second before she presser the button, a lightning flashed across the
gray sky, right behind the woman's head, and for a fleeting instant I
saw her in all her glory.

As clearly as you see these lines I saw her beauty, her mind and her
spirit. I saw her power, her force and her will. I saw her knowledge,
wisdom and determination. I saw her nature, forgiveness, and
compassion.

She, of course, couldn't know it yet; but I had seen all I needed.

For she was a natural, born giantess.


2

After my sudden yet sure discovery I knew the road to befriending the
woman was well paved. Once I detect a giantess, especially one of the
highest quality as this Japanese lady was, there is very little that
can stand in our way. For example, I first feared she might be
accompanied by a husband or, at least, a boyfriend or family of some
sort, given that you don't see that many oriental women traveling by
themselves. The fact that there was no one there on top of the tower
didn't mean that there might not be someone waiting for her
downstairs. As I soon discovered I shouldn't have worried at all, as
she was alone all right. But I must confess to you that even if she
had been in good company, the mutual attraction is just too great to
be easily challenged and, more often than not, restraint will stem
out of some moral objection either from me or from the woman, as it's
happened more than once along my particular career.

On getting my camera back and smiling again at each other I made a
casual comment about the beauty of the city scenery from our vantage
point together with some funny remark about how unusually hard the
stair climb had been and how everybody looked pretty tired after it.
She responded to my simple initiative with gentle agreement and
attitude. I could read her interest and curiosity in her body
language. She had a mellow, extremely well articulated voice; her
English was impeccable, with hardly a trace of the Japanese accent.
It actually seemed to have a mixture of all accents (which is a bit
like my own case), that gave her language a neutral and refined turn.
After a few minutes of showing each other from our roof the little we
had learned about Bologna and commenting on how marvelous it was, I
asked her whether she would climb down the stairs now. Then we
started our way back down, carefully stepping on those narrow treads,
inevitably joking at how thoughtful we all seeme!
d about placing our feet in the right place. Within a few minutes we
had reached the bottom of the tower again and stepped out of the main
entrance into the busy street. Facing each other and after a brief
hesitation I stretched out my hand and said,

"James."

"Mariko," she answered.

By then I had my plan drawn. Pulling out of my pocket the city guide
I suggested having a look at the Piazza Otto Agosto, which I hadn't
seen yet in detail and, since Mariko had spent but a few hours in
town and had seen far less than me, she agreed to walk with me in
that direction. The weather was stable, albeit cold and gray, but
even if it drizzled again it wouldn't prevent anybody from a lovely
little saunter to the park.

We spent the next hour together chatting away on this and that. After
the usual pleasantries Mariko told me she was touring Italy alone on
a short holiday she had managed to scratch out of a trip for work.
She had a fairly important job at a small company based, incredibly,
in South Africa.

"You seem to have an amazing globe trotting record," I
pointed out.

"Well," Mariko said, "my father was with the Japanese
diplomatic service for over twenty years, especially when I was
growing up."

She had been brought up in England as well as in France and Austria,
with stints in the States and South Africa, where she had finally
established.

"I guess mine is a bit of an unusual story for a Japanese
woman," she went on. "Something like Mitsuko Uchida's
case."

If she was tasting my cultural knowledge, she had definitely chosen
the right path. After a rapid memory search I asked,

"The pianist?"

She smiled.

Mariko was an enchanting lady. She possessed the refinement and
balance of speech and judgment that not many have. She was
meticulously yet naturally and elegantly dressed. Her clear beige
suit of knee length skirt and jacket fitted her graceful body
superbly. Her hair touch was done to perfection and her gait and
movement were extremely feminine. The modest amount of makeup she had
on was so tastefully used that you could hardly notice it. And her
smile and pleasant facial expression were constantly making you want
to look at her more and more. Mariko was a true lady. You see, any
female can be a woman, but not many can be ladies. Whether it's a
question of birth or acquisition is an open debate I'd be the last
person willing to go into, but the fact itself shouts out its truth
to the four winds and there's nothing anyone can do about it. Women
are a race; ladies are a class.

The late afternoon quickly turned into evening and, before we knew
it, it was dark and slightly colder. Sure of not getting rejected I
suggested having dinner together. She accepted in a most natural way.
We felt at ease with each other, experiencing that marvelous
sensation of having known one another for a long time, even though we
hadn't spent but a couple of hours together. The day before I had
noticed a lovely restaurant a few blocks away from the historic
center, but had thought it a waste to go there to dine alone, as it
saddens me beyond words to find myself in a romantic environment when
I'm by myself and, as much as I can, try to avoid such situations.
Tonight, though, the scenario had changed quite radically and I was
ready to take full advantage of it. When Mariko saw the luxury of the
house she gave the smallest sign of hesitation, but my encouraging
smile showed her dinner would be my treat.

We walked into the "Me' Gusta di Porta San Felice" about
nine o'clock in the evening. The ambiance was warm and relaxing. A
soft music played lazily in the background. Tables were spacious and
chairs wide and comfortable. In spite of the restaurant's
sophistication we decided to try the famous Spaghetti Bolognese,
which -as Girolamo, the hotel assistant manager, had explained to me
the day before- here is called 'Spaghetti al Ragù'. I have to say it
was delicious, as was the Chianti we ordered and the prize winning
tiramisu the waiter brought as dessert.

Our conversation continued to develop. I'm a good listener and have
quite a reputation for letting people express themselves as they wish
and for as long as they want to. I usually ask the right questions
and have people opening up and letting out certain bottled up energy
of desires, opinions and confessions. I also contribute my bit, but
my peculiar life on our beautiful yet cruel planet has taught me to
keep to myself things better left in the dark. Of course, as you'll
soon see, on the rare occasion I do reveal my little secret, I
usually become a center of attention I've dutifully learned to escape
from.

Mariko was twenty nine years old, and already divorced. She had
married quite young 'for the wrong reasons to the wrong man' as she
put it. Thank God, always in her opinion, she hadn't brought any
children to the world, so splitting up had been a fairly easy matter.
I didn't ask much, but it was obvious she had lived some very
unpleasant experiences during her marriage, as she had no words of
sympathy whatsoever for her ex husband. I thought to myself, although
I'd never say it to her, than any man having the privilege of
marrying such a lady and not managing to keep her had to be an ass,
completely unworthy of her.

By the time dinner was over I felt my body in all its demanding
strength claiming for the beauty I had in front of me. As the waiter
brought back my credit card and gratefully accepted my generous tip,
Mariko placed a vibrant, delicate hand on mine and simply uttered,

"Thank you, James."

I liked her attitude as much as I liked all of her. And I could also
sense she was burning in desire as much as I was. We went out into
the fresh night and, suddenly and simultaneously, placed our arms
round each other's body: me, over her shoulder; she, around my waist.
We hadn't walked but a few yards before I stopped under the shadow of
a dark corner and faced Mariko with shining eyes. I felt my blood
warm up my body and took the woman in my arms. Within a second we
were kissing frantically. I slipped my right hand behind her rear and
brought her tightly against my manhood. Before her hips reached mine
she had quickly lowered her hand to my hard-on. We rubbed and
massaged every part of each other's body as it was possible under the
unsafe protection of a dark street and it wasn't long before we
started moaning and panting. My tongue had gone deep into her sweet
mouth and hers into mine. I was also gently biting her lower lip,
which she corresponded massaging my crotch. Af!
ter quite a while of this maddening frenzy I looked at her with
serious expression and asked her silently whether she'd come with me
to my hotel. Her equally mute response found us walking to the
luxurious Grand Baglioni tightly hugging each other.

Getting Mariko into my hotel room wasn't a problem. And an exchange
of glances and quiet gestures between me and Girolamo, the assistant
manager, indicated clearly that breakfast and other arrangements
wouldn't be a hindrance. He knew I pay well. The woman and me,
burning with desire, went up to my room and didn't take long in
finding ourselves lustfully undressing each other with hardly
restrained passion. She possessed a most beautifully proportional
body. It was lean, young and gracious. Her limbs were flexibly
sculpted, her legs -imperceptibly arched- perfectly shaped, her feet
white and warm. Her arms had the appearance of a ballerina's, her
bony hands deserving of a poem. Her lean, tapering fingers ended in
delicately polished nails that she proved to be a real master at
using them during sex. As we finished taking each other's clothes
off, I started kissing her small yet immensely attractive breasts.
They were perking, desperately calling my mouth and lips. She went d!
own on her knees and started licking my groin and then my behind. We
soon rolled into bed and gave our beings to the secrets of love.

I tried on Mariko a lot of positions I knew would please her, and
left out a few others I thought might clash with her love making
style. She was incredibly responsive and turned out to be an amazing
partner. Her own initiatives, as when she climbed on top of my chest
and took charge, or when she wrapped my upper body and neck with her
long, elastic leg, adapted utterly well to my taste. We held our
coitus for a very long time, which really proves the lover's quality.
After turning round in bed, touching, kissing, licking, and teasing
each other for what seemed to be half the night I penetrated her for
the fist time. I felt my waist fit gloriously within her hips, and
was right in guessing Mariko's flexible young body would permit lots
of possibilities, lifting, turning and twisting her fabulous limbs. I
inserted my penis into her vagina from the front, from behind and
from the side. Her legs could be stretched out to form a straight
line, which let me go to the very end and!
 feel my testicles get drunk with ecstasy as they tickled against her
triangle. When I was sure I couldn't reach any more pleasure I still
felt her firm and soft index finger find its way into my anus, which
nearly drove me crazy with lust. Yet I waited till I saw she was
cumming and held it to the very last second. We came together in a
climax of absolute madness as our bodies shook vibrantly while
strongly holding each other. It had been one of the best sexual
experiences of my life and, believe you me, I've had many.

The rest of the night was but an uninterrupted sequence of sleep and
sex, of the sweetest dreams and the best intercourse. Morning still
caught us playing away, and unbelievably happy. And, more importantly
although hidden to her, I had seen enough along the night to confirm
once and again my primal instinct when I had first seen her the
afternoon before on the tower.

We took our time and slept a bit more, but I've been a morning bird
all my life and would get up even if I haven't winked an eye all
night; and apparently so is she. After showering together with more
hugs and kisses we were ready for breakfast. We descended into the
luxurious morning room and immediately ordered. Mariko looked radiant
by the window side, her eternal smile turned into a totally happy
face. And, as we had our breakfast I started to wonder when it might
be a good time to finally stating showing my other, realer self to
her.

My first opportunity didn't take long to arrive. Mariko having just
finished her café latte, usually served on a tall, slim glass,
playfully slid it across the small table to my half of it. Taking the
challenge I placed two fingers on the glass top and pushed it back to
her, leaving it quite near her body. She looked at me naughtily and
dragged the glass in my direction again. The glass height was the
perfect excuse. Putting a finger on the rim I asked,

"What would you do if this glass were a little man this high
trying to move toward you when you don't want him near?", and
swiftly slid it until it nearly touched her blouse, never taking my
eyes off hers.

I saw the sparkle on her face as the idea took shape in her
imagination. Taking now the glass from the top with all her fingers,
Mariko said,

"I would show him exactly where he should stand," and
proceeded to move the glass to an indefinite spot on the table.

"And where would that be?" I asked curiously, my six senses
on high alert.

"That would be exactly where I tell him to," said the woman
slowly, her face suddenly betraying a different smile.

At last I knew it. I had been right!


3

The day appeared cloudless and sunny, although it wasn't precisely
warm. Mariko and I went out to the street and she expressed her will
to go back to her hotel, not far from mine, to change into some new
clothes. We started to walk that way along Via dell'Independenza when
I suddenly had the idea of presenting her with some new clothing. She
hesitated for a little while but I insisted. There's nothing like
accompanying a lady to buy clothes, especially if they're ready to
follow your advice, which is usually what happens to me, as my taste
is not bad at all. We looked at the various fashion shops in the area
and soon decided to go into one that had a young but elegant line on
display. Their clothes bought us over, especially as we discovered
our tastes were much akin. I thought Mariko could go for a shorter
skirt than the one she had on, as her legs really deserved an even
better exposure, always within the good taste I knew she'd favor. She
went for a navy blue one, with a !
short cut on either side that marked her beautiful legs even more
when walking. Then she accompanied it with a pink and delicate silk
blouse, which was exactly the right size for her moderate cleavage
and I insisted on buying her a white fine sweater too. Once she had
all that on I found her even more attractive than the day before.
Mariko really possessed a fine, awesome figure. The only item missing
now was a good pair of shoes, my very specialty. For a moment I saw
her having a hard time accepting dear presents from a man she had
just met, but my manner reassured her. I've always managed my money
pretty well, allotting not little of it to charity as well. So I feel
completely justified in spending it as well as I see fit, even if
it's to please something as frivolous as a whim; and even more so
when it can represent a valuable gift to someone else.

At the shoe store next door I saw Mariko wisely diverting her eyes
toward the high heel section, as nothing would have fitted the
clothes we had just bought better than a three or four inch high
shoe. Then, obviously, as the tourist she was still planning to be
for the rest of the day, I saw she was having second thoughts.

"Who's gonna walk a lot today, anyway?" I whispered into
her ear, while gently biting her lobe. Mariko let a little laughter
out and stepped into the greatest pair of high heels you can imagine
to walk out of the shop in them. She was a vision! I was very well
dressed myself and, I'm telling you, our presence didn't go unnoticed
that day in Bologna.

First we continued on to Mariko's hotel, the Savoia, in order to have
her stuff sent over to my very room in mine. Then I would have gone
back to the Baglioni to have more of my lover's art, but I knew a
little walk in the park would end up enhancing ten times as much the
pleasure we both wanted. All I needed was a little time. As we walked
hand in hand like a couple of teenagers, I wasn't wrong in guessing
that, with a little guidance, it wouldn't be long before we talked
some more about the 'tiny naughty man' idea I had first mentioned
earlier on during breakfast.

"So, where is it exactly you'd tell that little man to stay in
case he still wanted to impolitely grab at your breasts?" I
asked after the issue had been brought up.

"What's with you and that idea?" she inquired curiously,
pinching my bottom with her fingers.

But I knew she was interested.

"Oh, nothing. Just forget it," I pretended to dismiss the
subject with a wave of my hand.

Within a few seconds she looked at me and said,

"Anyway, how could he try to touch me when I'm now standing and
he's down there on the floor?"

"Maybe you should take him into your arms and lift him off the
ground a little," I suggested.

"Well, he's been ill-disciplined, hasn't he?" the woman
replied. "So he should learn his lesson first."

"And what would that lesson be?" I wanted to know.

"Well…," she was pensive. "First off, he'd have to
stay down there for as long as I think it adequate, maybe a few
days," Mariko said. "He'd have to get used to look up at me
and respect my presence. Only when seeing a change in his
disrespectful attitude would I consider letting him back on a chair
or even table and allow him to look at me from a somewhat higher
position."

"And if he refused to obey and continued to misbehave?" I
poked her on.

"Then I'd tighten my grip proportionally to his
rebelliousness," she said as a matter of fact.
"Technically, he doesn't have a chance, does he?"

"I guess not," I considered. "And, how do you feel
when imposing your rules on such a defenseless fellow?" I asked,
very interested in her answer.

"Well, if he's in such a disadvantageous position," Mariko
reasoned, "what's he doing trying to challenge such much bigger
a force?"

Logical as her reply was, I still expressed,

"Maybe he really wants to get that reaction from you."

"So I'm giving him exactly what he's looking for, aren’t
I?" and she winked at me.

I'm telling you, she was a born giantess. Because women might be a
race, and ladies sure are a class. But giantesses, my friends,
giantesses are a caste.

"If, for some weird reason, you were stuck together with a tiny
fellow," I continued. "How would you like him to be?"

"Friendly, I guess," she responded. "And maybe
useful."

"Which means…"

"Well, I wouldn’t like to find myself having to help him with
every little thing in life," she said. "I guess we'd strike
a kind of deal on how to live together."

"For example?"

"I don't know…," Mariko doubted. "He'd have to take
care of small chores around, or make sure to keep things and
paperwork organized…"

"Have you ever thought about the idea?" I approached the
situation.

"Not really, but sounds interesting," was her reply.

"How about the possibility of being next to a man, albeit
little, that is constantly under your sight and supervision?" I
asked.

"Hmmm…," Mariko looked at me with curious and mischievous
eyes. "I might like that!" she winked at me. But…,"
she added, "where are you going with this theory?"

Taking her beautiful, delicate hand I led the woman to a bench, where
we both sat down to rest a little.

"Mariko, there's something I need to tell you," I opened up.

The thirty minute or so conversation that ensued was along the
patterns I know so well by now. Revealing my secret has never been
easy, but considering that at the beginning it had been almost
impossible I think it a big achievement to have been able to sum it
up within around half an hour; and that only in instances where I
decided to prepare the lady, as in Mariko's case, because many times
I have just plunged into my thing, sometimes scaring the hell out of
the huge woman.

She looked at me with a confused face.

"Just what are you talking about?" she cautiously said.

I gently took her hand and made her stand up and look me into the
eye. Without a word I started a slow but steady march back to the
hotel. The woman was meekly following me, I guess waiting to see
where exactly I was headed. I could feel her understandable mistrust
and couldn’t afford to waste much precious time. When entering the
Baglioni I told the receptionist we were not to be disturbed under
any circumstances and quickly led Mariko into my room. Her belongings
had already arrived, and were orderly arranged by a wall, next to a
small table, although we didn't need them for the time being. The
woman looked at me full of anxiety and a pinch of fear as she saw me
carefully lock the door and tidily get undressed. Within seconds I
was standing naked and extremely aroused in front of the attractive,
elegantly dressed Japanese lady. Being naturally tall and in heels,
she was almost my height and looked at me with an enormous mixture of
curiosity and confusion. For a split of a !
second I thought I had lost her, in which case I wouldn't be able to
perform my trick, but I realized we would survive the second she
started to respond to my caresses. Slowly but surely we began to kiss
again, to fondle and to rub our bodies against each others'. My eyes
shut, my mind increasingly trying to find the 'spot', I kissed and
hugged and stroked until I felt I was ready. As predictably as ever,
I lost consciousness for a few seconds and only retained the faintest
sensation of falling into the abyss as I plunged into a semi trance.

When I opened my eyes I saw a huge Mariko holding me in her gigantic
hands and looking at me with the widest slanted eyes the world has
ever seen. I had turned into a twelve-inch-tall mini man, light as a
feather, fearful as a mouse, happy as paradise, horny as hell. The
woman had turned into a giantess like she would have never dreamed
anyone could be, and was holding in her suddenly and amazingly
empowered hands a living, thinking creature from an unknown world of
myth and fantasy waiting for her much expected reaction. My secret,
my little secret, had worked once again.

"Holy Mother of Christ!" she pronounced very slowly.
"How do you do it?" she whispered in awe.

And, within a few moments, the most tender, maternal smile had formed
in her lips. Now she knew I hadn't been lying. Now she was mine… and
I was hers.


4

After recovering from her initial shock, Mariko proceeded to gently
deposit me on the carpeted floor. I had turned into a tiny,
twelve-inch-tall man, completely naked and utterly defenseless, in
front of a tall, slim, beautifully proportioned Japanese lady of
thirty, wearing the sexiest outfit and looking down at me in total
amazement. Much as I had prepared her during our little talk in the
park, I knew it wouldn't make any sense to her until she actually saw
me. I smiled up at her to show both my friendliness and reassurance.
Mariko stretched a careful finger toward my head and very gently
removed a lock of hair from my forehead with her delicate nail.

"How do you do it, James?" she asked for the second time.

"How I do it is a very long story, Mariko," I answered her.
My voice was louder than usual, which is the only way I can be heard
by someone so many times my size, although I knew it wouldn't be but
a squeak to her. "The really important thing right now is to
fully enjoy the privilege this will give both of us!"

The maternal streak was the first to surface to Mariko's approach, as
it happens all too frequently with good giantesses. Almost dismissing
what I'd have to say she slid her hands under my armpits and
gracefully lifted me into the air, making me feel the inevitable yet
intoxicating vertigo. Her touch was electrifyingly arousing. My tiny
penis was fully stretched and kept its stand even more so once she
sat down on the edge of the double bed, crossed her magnificent legs,
and placed my naked tush on her bare knee. The contact of my soft
butt cheeks against her firm round kneecap pushed my hard-on even
further.

If I had been right Mariko wouldn't pester me with questions. She'd
take me -and my transformation- for what I am and go along with it.
After silently looking at me for what seemed to be a very long time
she must have concluded that experiencing such a total overpowering
sensation was well worth my privacy. Once accepted my condition the
woman apparently felt compelled to get some tactile assessment of the
little man. She brought her glorious fingers into the scene again and
started rubbing every part of my little body. She slid them over my
chest, behind my back, under my cock and between my legs. Wherever
deciding it was safe enough, she also used her hard and cool nails to
get me going. Thus, she gently scratched my skull, played around with
my nipples and had a go at tickling my feet. As if to test my
endurance she stayed at my feet for a while longer, secretly enjoying
my futile efforts to try to wriggle myself out of her powerful
tickle. Mariko was quickly getting the !
grasp of what to have a mouse of a man in her hands was, learning
fast the boundaries between pleasure and pain, exactly as she had
done the previous night, and which sets the quality of the real love
maker. After quite a few minutes of that she decided to let me find
my own way about her body. The woman slowly withdrew her fine hands
from my trunk and made me balance on her knees as I waded my way
across her crossed leg and onto her lap.

In spite of all our talk about the little naughty man (and his
punishment) trying to touch her breasts, Mariko sexily started to
unbutton her pink new blouse as I reached her chest. Hardly changing
her erect position, she also undid her bra from behind and let it
land aside. Finding myself in front of the perkiest pair of tits you
can imagine I plunged lustily into them, sucking them both in turns
while, alternatively, roughly kneading the other one with all of my
hand, which wasn't but a pleasant caress to her. The giantess's
moaning didn’t take long to come and, together with it, she let her
upper body lean gently back on the big bed. I stretched horizontally
on her and continued my frenzied business on her breasts. Then I saw
her wet her finger with saliva and bring it behind my ass, which she
started to massage. It felt like warm oil and I thought my dick was
going to take off from my crotch, such was the erection it gave me.

I was still busy in the chest department when Mariko softly but
assertively lifted me up and placed me on her panties. As a little
employee who's been assigned a different but equally interesting task
I started to work my way into it. Before I knew it she had taken her
skirt off and rolled the panties down her glorious legs. I found
myself bouncing in the mattress that her dark pubic hair formed and
deftly inserted my arm into her pussy. Finding instantly her clit, I
grabbed the thing in my hand and pressed hard with all five fingers.
Mariko let out a heavenly cry and I hoped no one would be walking
past our room door then! In response to my pleasure giving, she
roughly passed her nail over my back. I felt the terrible tension on
my flimsy skin resisting her very special rub. We were getting mad
with desire but we knew we had just started our act.

Leaving her center for a while, I swam my way down her shapely legs
and soon found myself reaching her knees again. Then the woman lifted
her body again and slowly started to get up on her feet. The vertical
position she adopted speeded up my way down her legs and very quickly
I was standing by the giantess's huge high heel shoes. I looked up at
her impossibly tall body and met the sweetest smile on her face.
Wondering what she'd do next, I rapidly realized she wanted to stop
fondling for a little while and get pleasure of another kind. I was
right, for calling me with a silent gesture of her finger she crossed
over the big room (the size of a small football stadium to me) and
went to stand in front of a full body mirror on the wall. Watching
her walk in the room, every one of her steps an impossibly long
stretch for me, was the mental equivalent to the physical pleasure I
had felt so far. But, after running across the room and standing
right next to her feet, I got not only!
 the mental, but also the very spiritual reward. Just imagine for a
second what to stand next to a thirty-five-foot-tall naked beauty in
heels would be and you'll get an inkling of what I felt then. Mariko
was also reveling in heaven. She looked at us from the front and from
behind. Then she turned her back on me and told me to measure my back
against her shoe. My bottom reached her upper heel, by back touched
the leather of the actual shoe.

"God, you're tiny," she marveled. 

Then she suddenly crouched down and took me in her hands again. A few
steps brought her back to bed and she put me on the pillow. My
giantess took off her shoes and lay back naked on her side next to
me. I attacked as much of her body as I could at my tiny size. I went
all over it and, wherever I went, I was followed by Mariko's hands,
legs, feet or face, as she saw fit. We tossed around in bed for a
long time that noon and drove each other crazy working on the
sensitive points, as we had learnt to do the previous night, when we
both were the same size. It was absolute bliss and we knew the sky
was the limit.

Finally I went first. Finding her clitoris again I repeated my trick
as before, only that this time I grabbed it between thumb and one
finger only, as I knew it would provoke a sharper feeling. After a
couple of minute in which the woman stretched her holding power for
as much as she could, she came amidst shouts and panting, while
pressing my entire body against her triangle with the palm of her
hand. I was terribly sweaty and aroused and had to make a huge effort
myself not to cum there and then before she could choose how to make
me to.

Once Mariko calmed down a little, she suddenly lifted me into the air
and saying "Come here, you little clown," placed me with my
belly right under her nose, my penis completely taken between her
lips. Her mouth was wet and her lips were sticky. She trapped it in
such a way that I thought they had been created to form the perfect
sheath to my dick. Her sucking was relentless and bordering on the
painful. This woman was the perfect giantess down to the last detail.
I tried and resist it a bit longer but had to let go lest my head
would blow. When I came my shaking was so powerful that, in spite of
my tiny size, Mariko had to steady me against her mouth with the palm
of her hand. I stayed there for endless minutes while the happy woman
sucked away every little drop that continued to come out. Utterly
content yet incredibly tired, I quickly found my niche in my
goddess's breasts, and fell peacefully asleep.


5

We must have been sleeping for something like two hours when I woke
up placidly on Mariko's body. She had fallen asleep on her back and I
was comfortably lying on her bosom. One of her hands was near me and
I approached and kissed it delicately. The woman smiled and stretched
her arms aside. Then she looked at me at close range and said,

"Who are you, little man? Where do you come from?"

All she got for an answer was my happy face and lots of little kisses
all over her chest. I knew she was still enchanted with the idea of
interacting with such a small person and more than willing to explore
it further. Seeing my own desire manifest itself in my little penis's
growing erection, Mariko sweetly took me in one of her hands and
said,

"Come here, little fellow, you and I need a bath."

I was very happy to be taken to the bathroom and see the lady turn on
a powerful stream of warm, clear water to prepare our next scenario.
While the bathtub quickly filled up, she stood me on the toilet seat
and held me there for me to pee. Then she gently placed me inside the
sink while she sat for a minute on the toilet too. While in there I
found myself surrounded by the sink's pale pink walls, seeing but
Mariko's face. I tried to steal a peek at the rest of her body but
found that I had to stretch well beyond my height to do that. On
seeing my puny little efforts, she winked at me and said,

"A man should never see a lady in such a prosaic position."

Mariko was obviously getting a taste of how overpowering she could
be, even when only teasing. After flushing the toilet and seeing the
tub half full already, the giantess took both my hands in her fingers
and, suspending me over the water -which was like a huge swimming
pool to me- said,

"In you go, sweetheart."

And with that she let go of me and I plunged into the warm tub. My
feet touched the bottom but I was unable to stand if I wanted to
breathe too, so I had to tread water and wait for Mariko to step in,
which happened immediately after. The tub was pretty large and the
woman stretched her legs across it while sticking her back to the
oval side. I soon found myself floating between her shining knees and
placing my hands on them to gain balance. Mariko was in heaven with
the scene and playfully started tickling my little armpits and
teasing me in other ways. We laughed a lot as I tried to keep a
vertical position and she boycotted against it in every possible
manner. Then I plunged down into the warm water and made a go for her
pussy. I nearly reached it when Mariko's huge hand appeared out of
nowhere and carefully blocked my way to it. 

"It's about time we draw some distance between us, little
man," she said naughtily as I surfaced up again.

A mischievous smile was drawn on her face, waiting to see my
reaction. She had obviously taken in our role play of earlier that
morning and was trying to act it out. I must say she was doing it to
perfection. Under water and all, my erection was already making me
drunk with lust.

"Oh, yes?" I took the challenge. "We'll see about
that," and I plunged again in.

I tried to dive my way behind her bottom to find an exit under her
arms but found the woman's rounded hips blocking most of the tub
width, let alone her hands and beautiful fingers, constantly
following my every movement and preventing me from operating freely.
She was being extremely careful and none of her actions could have
possibly harmed me. It was, then, a supreme game of strength in which
I could use all my capabilities. Eventually I came back to my
starting point between her legs and thrust my little body up to hold
on to one of her knees as when someone tries to climb on a rock in
the sea. By then the tub was almost full and I found the amount of
water being more of a hindrance than before. Mariko slightly shook
her leg and made me fall clumsily down into the water again.

"Poor little man," she pouted and smiled. "He doesn't
know how to stand firm in front of a woman."

"He doesn't, eh?" I still showed myself confident.

Making a total turn I swam toward the feet end of the tub and tried
to climb on top of it, out of the reach of Mariko's hands, with the
intention of edging the border and 'attacking' the woman from the
side. But the minute I tried to get out of the water a huge and white
foot gently touched my back from behind and I immediately made me
fall back in. I quickly looked back to see Mariko sticking a funny
tongue at me.

"Oh, n, n, no," she said shaking her head negatively.
"You'll have to try harder, dear."

"You'll see, you!" I braved her, and turned back for the
tub edge again.

But the second I thought I might be getting out her foot came in
again and down I dived without a chance. God, she was really getting
the taste of it. And it had me rocking. Once I stuck my head out of
the water again, Mariko placed her flexible foot behind my back and
steadily pushed me toward her body. It felt as if a strong wave were
forcing me from behind. Thus I arrived to her chest, no longer
controlling my own movements. I thought she'd give me a break now but
she had more in store for me.

"Let me show you, little man, how easy it is to make it out of
the water," she said.

The giantess grabbed my tiny body with her soft hand of steel and,
lifting me well into the air, proceeded to place me on the tub edge.
I was still getting hold of myself and dripping all over when she
said,

"You see how easy?" she teased me. "Now, you try!"

Then, as quickly as she had gotten me out of the 'pool', she put her
finger behind my tush and started to push me toward the water again.
Suddenly I was skating with my bare feet on the slippery surface of
the tub edge and, in no time, flying into the water. She had
completely overpowered me and was utterly enjoying her game. She was
calm, confident and expectant. I was in total heaven!

Once more I tried to reach the rim by myself to be gently knocked
down again with her feet. She playfully turned me around in the water
and eventually slipped three fingers around my little feet, one
between my ankles, the other two at either side. My body was free,
but my feet were cuffed. The giant woman held me at the right height
to leave my body submerged into the water but my head out. I still
used my little arms to keep balance and was ecstatic waiting for her
move. She crooked her long arm a little and brought me closer to
herself. She spoke sexily,

"Now you are in my power, aren't you?"

Trapped at my feet, my tiny body clumsily fighting to stay erect in
the water, I answered,

"Always, my queen."

"That's a good answer, little man," she was satisfied.
"But, just to make sure that we understand each other…" she
said, and started to lower her hand, making the water reach my chin,
"I'll give you one small assignment."

The giantess lowered me even more. I felt the water reach my upper
lip and eventually my nose. Now I wouldn't be able to breathe unless
Mariko eased her grip on me a little. I had to crane my neck and push
my head forcibly back to catch a last inhalation before the water
reached my eyes. I instinctively tried to free my legs only to find
that if I insisted the huge finger pressure around them prevented me
from even budging.

"You are to go down to my feet and kiss them both before coming
back to me," she ordered. "Is that understood?"

I tried to answer but my mouth was under the water already. Lifting
me immediately she assertively asked,

"What's that, little man?"

"Yes, my queen!" I answered, in awe.

"That's a good boy," she concluded, and let go of my feet.

I slowly swam my way across her legs and reached the woman's feet, so
clean and wet, and started kissing them frantically. I went about
those heavenly feet, one by one: ankles, heels and toes. I sucked and
licked at her toes and strong nails and wallowed in them for an
eternity. I don't even know what Mariko did while I was in such a
trance. I guess she just looked at me and marveled at the whole
thing. Hopefully, it aroused her too. The thing is, when I finished
and 'came to' so to speak, I found her looking at me and smiling.
Then, seeing my red erection, she suddenly said,

"Come here, now, you little clown. I think you've earned your
reward."

The woman proceeded to soap all of my body and massage every part of
it. Her touch was so incredibly angelical, and I was so desperately
horny! She tossed me around in her masterful hands and made sure I
was presentable enough, for she asked,

"Are you clean enough for me, little man?"

Then, she grabbed me with one hand, sliding her thumb across my
little chest and gently pressing my back against her other fingers.
Once secured in her grip, Mariko did what I had experienced only in
but a handful of occasions before. She took my penis with two fingers
but not in a pinching position: her index nail, strong and hard, went
under the lower, softer, part of my dick, and her middle fingertip,
firm but soft, came on the upper part, harder and less sensitive. All
of a sudden my penis was in what seemed to be its natural habitat. It
felt protected, it felt at home. The woman started to pull back and
forth those two fingers with my little member in them while tightly
holding all of my body in her other hand. I almost fainted with
pleasure as this massage went on forever. I closed my eyes and saw
the colors of the world parade in front of my imagination. Mariko was
a gift from paradise. When I came my little white drops covered every
corner of the tub.

"That's a good little boy," Mariko said encouragingly while
I desperately discharged my lava.

She continued to hold me like that for very long minutes, patiently
waiting for me to calm as I shook and panted away. Finally I came to
the end and the woman slowly released her grip. She had an amazing
ability to read my every need and act accordingly. I lay back
comfortably on the water and took a few seconds to relax before
starting taking care of the lady's crave, whose turn was up. But, to
my surprise, Mariko gently lifted a finger and turned it in the air,
indicating that she would need me, but only later. For the time
being, she brought her left hand to her clit and, never taking her
sight off me, worked at it for a couple of minutes before exploding
in one of the hottest masturbations I've ever witnessed. 


6

It must have been around three or four by the time we finished our
bath and were back in bed. Sex had been fantastic and exhausting and
I would have killed for a little nap, but we wanted to eat something
first. Mariko picked up the phone and ordered a snack that didn’t
take long to come. Of course she took care of bringing it in, as I
remained under the covers not to be seen by anyone. She also ate with
good appetite, and so did I, only that, at my tiny size, any scrap of
food is enough to fill me up. I thought we'd still talk a little, but
we both fell fast asleep soon after the meal.

About a couple of hours later I woke up to a somewhat darker room
and, after slowly opening my eyes and regaining my senses I saw
Mariko sitting on an armchair by the bed and looking at me intensely.
She had obviously been up for a while and had even taken a silk robe
out of her luggage which suited her great. It opened in a big cut
under the belt and you could see a beautiful, long leg sticking out
of it, leisurely swinging while she contemplated me.

"How's my little prince?" Mariko said playfully.

I sat up on the bed and looked at her.

"You are incredible," I said.

It was her turn to smile.

"So are you, little James," she responded.

"How do you feel with it?" I wanted to know.

"I feel like I don't think any woman has ever felt," was
her clear cut answer.

"Tonight's our last," I said, looking carefully at her.

"I know, sweetheart…," she sounded sad.

"Let's make it perfect!" I said, louder.

"I know it will be," she said. "You're full of
surprises."

Her leg was swinging faster and I could see she was as excited as me.
I quickly thought of a course of action, knowing Mariko would be a
faithful partner. She had definitely enjoyed our little game in the
bathroom and I had an instinct it could be exploited a bit more. Her
eyes were shining, her body language showed her desire. I looked at
her intently and I felt my heart bump with vigor. Her eyes closed a
little, sharpening her sight, quickly reading my mind. There passed a
few very quiet seconds in which neither of us moved or pronounced a
word.

"You better come here", I finally opened up.

"And who are you to tell me what to do?" my giantess smiled
willfully, picking up the gauntlet.

"Well, if you want to save yourself some trouble," I still
said from my sitting position, you have better not question me."

The gigantic woman ceremoniously uncrossed her legs and very slowly
got up to her feet. Her armchair was very close to the bed and she
came to sit next to me in a controlled, yet menacing way. When she
put her massive weight down I could feel the mattress giving way and
forming a slope toward her body. I had to hold onto the sheet with my
arms not to roll down against her huge hips.

"You, little piece of nothing, are trying to give me
orders?" she asked seriously but almost betraying a smile.
"I think it's about time we clear a few things up here."

By then I was standing on my little feet and thinking about running
away, but even the indifferent movement of her arm was faster than
any possible attempt of my part. Before I knew it, the woman was
firmly holding me in her hand. Her grip was tighter than ever before.
I realized she was completely into it, and I started to feel the
dizziness that accompanies the greatest moments of sex with a
giantess. Bringing me up to face level with her, frowning and with an
earnest expression, she asked quietly,

"Who do you think you are, little man?" and pressed a
powerful thumb against my belly.

I felt her strong pressure almost cutting my breath and tried to
answer what I had in mind, but she squeezed even more, making it
almost impossible for me to talk.

"I don't want to hear what you have to say, mister," she
said with a suggestive, sexy voice. "I want you to repeat with
me. Is that understood?"

The giantess was totally into it, there was no way back now.

I nodded affirmatively, as her increasing pressure didn't allow me to
do much else.

"Say that you are a little nothing," she commanded while
slightly easing her finger grip.

"I'm a little nothing," I heard a squeak of a voice come
out of my mouth.

"That's good, little fellow," she seemed satisfied. But
then she fired her next question,

"And what am I, little mouse," she demanded while closing
in her fingers on my tiny body again.

"You are…, you are…," I was finding it hard to speak.

"Yes, little man, what am I?" she sensually looked at me.

"You are a queen!" I shouted in glory.

But her face showed disappointment, then restrained anger.

"Wrong answer, tiny man!"

As I was still trying to guess at where Mariko might be taking all
this, she turned me down with my belly on her knee and said,

"Let me show you what I do to little naughty boys who give wrong
answers."

And, with that she began to pinch one cheek of my little bottom with
her fingers. Her movements were regular and, in principle, pleasing.
It felt like a heavy massage being administered by a big, bulky
person using two strong arms. But soon the pinching started to feel
uncomfortable and, after a minute or two, the uninterrupted kneading
of my delicate flesh turned into pain. Soon I began to wriggle in the
vice-like grip of her strong hand but there was nothing I could do. A
well of tears flowed up to my eyes and I also started to shout a
little. Kicking came soon after but her wicked massage was steadily
going on. When I felt I wouldn't be able to take it any more, she
suddenly stopped and started pinching my other cheek. First I felt
relieved, as my hot half of my tush was left alone. But soon I went
through exactly the same in the other half.

Mariko was a mistress of organized pain. Hardly opening her mouth,
let alone betraying any body stress, she quietly and steadily turned
my ass into a red battlefield. But once she finished her peculiar
massage I realized that it had been only the introduction. For she
began to slap me first slowly then more rapidly until I couldn’t hold
it any more.

"Oh, Mariko, please stop, please stop, Mariko," I was
crying like a little baby, sweating copiously from bottom to top. As
her spanking wouldn’t finish I found myself grabbing at her quiet leg
with my hands and digging my teeth into her skin, knowing she would
hardly feel it. Suddenly coming to a halt, brusquely turning me up
again, Mariko asked, a winning expression on her face,

"What am I?"

"You're an Empress!" I screamed trying my best, crazy with
pain.

"Wrong answer, little man," she said aloud. I felt my heart
sink, my hopes shatter. "But before I'm done with you," she
added, "let's see what slaves do for their empresses. Give me
pleasure," she ordered. And, leaning back, roughly put me on her
chest and closed her eyes.

I threw my tiny body onto her huge tits and started sucking like mad.
My entire body, small as it was, turned into a sucking, licking and
kissing machine. Horny as hell but knowing holding my cum was the
only way to freedom, I explored the giantess's body down to the last
bit, the last corner, the last curve. Partly taken by my own impulses
but also constantly guided by the huge woman's hand, I landed in
every piece of flesh there was along that heavenly surface and gave
it as much as I possibly could. Mariko accompanied my peculiar dance
with all sorts of arousing sounds and moans. I thought she would come
any second now but, to my complete surprise and with an incredibly
agile movement, she jumped on her feet onto the mattress I suddenly
found myself clumsily bouncing on and, before I knew it, she had
placed her huge foot on me.

I was lying down on the enormous bed, my back plastered to the
mattress, my limbs aside, totally immobilized by the giantess's
humangous bare foot exercising an unbearable pressure on my chest. In
spite of my surprise and fear, I couldn’t but marvel at the unique
sight of this queen of giants looking down at me suddenly with a calm
expression.

"I'm hot and mad," she said slowly. "I'm horny and
desperate," she stressed her words. "And I demand that you
tell me what I am!" she almost shouted. "Think well,
because this is your last chance," the giantess concluded.

I felt her might come onto me with the surreal weight of her
statuesque body on my tiny self. She had been right, it suddenly
occurred to me: she wasn't a queen.

"What am I, little man?" she repeated her question. She
pushed down so hard that I felt my body creak under her foot. God,
she was right: she wasn’t an empress.

"What am I?" her voice had turned into a menacing whisper.
She pressed even harder and I felt my blood racing desperately to
every end of my little body, as if trying to find a way out of its
walls. I was going to explode. Scared to death, with the last streak
of voice I had in me, I faintly said,

"You are a Goddess."

A few seconds of expectant silence ensued…

"That's better," I finally heard in relief. And then, still
smashing my body against the bed, this Japanese woman educated in
Vienna, Paris and London, for the first and only time during our days
together, pronounced the following words with an unknown voice,

"Anata ga watashiwo anatano megami ni shitakara, Anata wo
Ikasete Ageyoo."

The pressure stopped. The giantess changed her expression. She slowly
sat down on bed, a mixture of pride and shame painted on her face. We
looked at each other silently, and I showed her with my expression
that I was all right. Delicately drying my painful tears with the tip
of her glorious finger, Mariko took me in her hands and started
cradling me against her bosom like the baby that I was. The giant
woman wetted one finger with saliva and carefully refreshed my butt,
which only increased my huge erection. Then she lay down again and
proceeded to open up her legs in a 'V' shape. Gently standing me
between them, my erect penis reaching right up to her bushy hole, we
started moving together, her controlling hand always behind my tiny
back. I fully stretched my arms across her triangle and stuck my
little feet under her bottom cheeks. I saw the woman massaging in
ecstasy her own tits while moving up and down as my tiny dick was
effectively securing her clit. I don’t know how!
 long we went like that for. But I remember we came together and for
me it felt like the threshold to Eden.

Happy as a teenager on his first night, my ass burning like an oven,
my entire structure sweating like a dead bull after the fight, I
slowly climbed up Mariko's giant body, reached her smiling face,
kissed long and lustily her fleshy lips, and fell asleep like a happy
prince in fairy tales.


7

After a few comforting hours of sleep, I woke up on Mariko's gigantic
belly. It felt soft to the touch and it soothed properly my aching
butt. The woman was fast asleep and I knew we had but a few hors left
together. She had been fantastic and it wouldn't be an easy farewell
for us. I carefully stood up on the bed and made my way up to her
face. A blue glimmer came in from the dark window, falling right on
the woman's beautiful face. I gently removed a lock of hair from her
brow and this flimsy movement made her turn a little toward me. I
wasn't sure she was awake, but time had come and I was ready.

Standing on the tip of my toes, my little mouth looked for her huge
lips. As she felt my presence, Mariko immediately placed her hand
behind my body and brought me even closer to her. We kissed for a
long time and I started to concentrate and look for the right colors,
the right sensations, the right 'spot'. Within a few moments I had
found it. I plunged into it as I had done so many times and, soon, I
lost consciousness. For the next few seconds I only had a general
perception of me coming back to my normal size and Mariko suddenly
getting frightened. By the time she was fully awake I was holding her
tight in my -now once more- strong arms. Our silent eyes met, and we
melted into one embracing body. I believe we still made love twice
more that night, now at normal size. If there were still tricks we
hadn't tried the night before, we sure went for them now.

In spite of an extremely active night we got up pretty early in the
morning. We didn't say much as we went about packing our individual
suitcases, which didn't take long. We went downstairs for breakfast
and exchanged a few pleasantries as it was hard to find something to
say. Like the day before, Mariko finished her café latte, but this
time around there was no mood for little jokes. I saw her eyes fill
up with tears and knew the terrible moment was coming.

"Who are you, James?" she asked once more, this time
pleadingly looking into my eyes.

I didn’t say a word.

"Is your name James?" she tried, putting a hand on mine.

Again, there was silence.

"Will you at least tell me your name?"

My eyes got wet too.

"Will I ever see you again?" she sounded distressed.

All the sorrow of the world was hanging from our shoulders right
then. Finally, she let off a big sigh. Then she opened her purse and
jotted down something on a piece of paper and handed it to me. I
looked at it with care. It was her e-mail address. I folded up the
note tidily and put it into the pocket of my jacket.

"Everything will be fine, Mariko," was all I could think to
say.

"Yeah, it will," she compromised, and smiled a little.

After a few more minutes she got suddenly up and prevented me from
doing it too.

"I'll have my luggage sent downstairs," she said.
"It's time for me to go."

Taking a few moments to look down at me from her standing position,
the fine lady I'll never forget put a hand on my cheek and said,

"Whoever you are, my great little man, you're the most beautiful
thing that ever happened to me."

I took her hand in mine and kissed it twice in recognition.

"Good bye, love," she said, and began to turn around to
leave. But before she could complete her action I still held her hand
and asked,

"Mariko, will you tell me the meaning of the sentence in
Japanese you said to me last night?"

The lady paused for a second, tossed the phrase around in her head,
and said slowly and with subdued voice,

"Because you've made me your Goddess, I'll let you live."

I nodded imperceptibly and held my sight. The woman gave me a final,
dear look, turned around and left. Her body crossed the doorway with
the gait of a goddess walking back to her mountain.


THE END