(NO) DAY AT THE BEACH

A Gentle Giantess Story by Lem

The young woman, clad in a light blue one-piece swimsuit, stepped out of her car, gathered up her beach towel and cooler, and walked towards the beach. It was a weekday, but Amanda Sherwood had recently come into some money, and was enjoying being independently wealthy. Well, not entirely independently. She had a husband, after all.  She laid out the towel and inspected her accessories: a book, sunglasses, strawhat, and a cooler with sandwiches, potables, ice, and....Oh, yes. She almost forgot. She opened the cooler. "Ready to come out, dear?" Jack, 4.5 inches tall, sat shivering on one of the sandwiches. "For the love of Pete, yes! It's freezing in here! "She giggled and pulled him out. "Brrr, you're cold to the touch!  ""You're telling me!""  Well, don't blame me. You said it would be more comfortable than riding in the car. ""Never mind! Just set me down on the sand.  ""Oh, I don't know. The sand is hot--""Hot is good! Just do it.  "She complied, and Jack, who was barefoot but otherwise dressed in a regular shirt and pants, set to dancing a not-so-merry jig until he reached the safety of the beach towel, landing at his wife's foot.  "Toldja," she giggled. "Anyway, I think it serves you right for sitting on my sandwiches when I told you not to."  "Oh, come on, it was the warmest thing in there. Besides, it's in plastic." "Well, now that you're out of there, you can get dressed proper for the beach.  Here." She reached into her bag and produced a small change purse that housed Jack's items. From that she extracted a minuscule pair of swim trunks.  She held them out before him, and he examined them critically. "I don't know, these look a little...fruity, don't you think?  ""Well, even in the best dolls' clothes catalog, the selection isn't the greatest, especially for men's wear. Besides, these were picked for their superior material. Guaranteed not to chafe. "He reluctantly took the trunks. "Well, since you put it that way...but...""Now what?"  "It's just that, I feel a little funny changing, you know, out in the open."  "Oh, come on, Jack, you know I picked this spot because it's secluded."  "I know, but I can't help it. Isn't there some cover I could use?  "Before he was done asking, her straw beach hat descended on him, covering him completely. Its pattern had a sort of row of crossed windows running near the top, which let light in. "Wave your shirt out the window when you're done," she told him. Soon he did just that, and she lifted the hat and placed it back on her head.  She examined his trunks. "Hmm, I guess they are a little fruity...and big, besides." She giggled as he cinched the waistband up a little to make them stay on.  "Well, a lot of things are too big for me these days, but at least they'll hold.  Are these supposed to be for one of those Kyle dolls?" She grinned. "No, those are supposed to be for Lyle, Kyle's little brother.  "He blushed. "Oh, well, did you bring anything to drink?" "How could I forget?" She pulled out a plastic thermos bottle and a bag of ice.  Then she brought out a plastic glass for her and a small thimble (not a fullsized one, but a miniature one from a Monopoly game) to serve as his cup. She filled her cup with ice; his was too small for ice, and shavings would melt too quickly, so he did without. Then, from the thermos, she poured a fruit-colored drink.  "Hey, what is this stuff," he asked critically. "You didn't get one of those wimpy wine coolers, did you?"  "What's wrong with them? I like them."  "I wanted some real alcohol, not that girly stuff.  "She shrugged. "Suit yourself." Then she put the thermos away and began drinking lightly.  He walked up with his cup held high and cried "Hey! What about me?"  "I give up, what about you," she replied noncommittally.  "Aren't you going to pour me some?" He asked impatiently.

"What? And insult your macho self-image with my girlish drink? Heaven forbid!  "To underscore her point, she turned the plastic lock on the cooler. Further protestations and complaints from Jack proved fruitless. She looked away from him, and began sunning herself, picking her glass up for a sip from time to time.  Eventually, the angry man stormed up to her drink to fill his cup from there, but glass, being seven inches high, was far too tall for him to reach into.  A few feet away, he spotted a used drink box, the kind that holds portable lemonade and such, in the sand. The thing was about four inches high, bigger than his whole body, and almost as tall, but he thought it might give him just enough of a lift to get some drink. He tried pulling it by the straw, but it just popped out. It was almost light enough to lift, but too bulky to do so for long. Finally, he took to pushing it, but the sand would build up in front of it after a few inches, and it would get stuck. His solution to this was to flip the box over and resume pushing, then repeating the process again.  Meanwhile, Amanda, who was pretending to be oblivious, was amusing herself by watching Jack through the cover over her sunglasses. Brother, but what Jack wouldn't do to get a drink! She smiled ever so slightly and awaited his next move.

After much labor, Jack got the box next to Amanda's cup. He paused a few moments, but then forced himself to move on, anxious for his much sought after swig. He set the box upright, the only way it could be tall enough, if he stood on it, to allow him to dip the thimble in her drink. Unfortunately, this created another problem. How to get up on the 4" box when he was only 4.5" himself?  It took a couple of tries, because the soft sand let the light box become unbalanced easily, but he was finally standing on it, feeling as triumphant as a man who had conquered Everest. Here he was, looking down into the alcohol he'd worked so hard for! He was about to lower the thimble when the whole glass rose into the air, as Amanda got herself another sip. Jack waited impatiently, hoping that the level would stay high enough for him to reach into. To his relief, she barely touched the rim to her lips. Then, to his horror, she put the drink down, not on the spot she'd kept it on since she started, but on top of the cooler a few inches away!

The cooler, red with a plastic top, was about twelve inches high, or about sixteen feet high by Jack's reckoning. He flopped his hands down to his side in frustration, upsetting the drink box and sending him face first into the sad. Hegot to his feet, spitting out sand and hoped that at least Amanda didn't notice.  Except that her slight grin seemed to have crept up on her face a little, there was no sign that she had.

Undeterred, he tried to figure how to salvage the situation. The cooler was unscalable on this side, but it had a large plastic handle that was now down on the far side. At its lowest point the handle was only a few inches off the ground. The handle lay close by the cooler's sides, and he might clamber up it like a mountain climber on a ledge.

He chose the side farthest from Amanda, figuring it would keep him out of view, hoisted himself up onto the handle, and began slowly climbing by shuffling his feet sideways with his back to the cooler. The journey took longer than he had figured, but he was eventually at the joint of the handle, only inches from thetop.After one more hoist, he was on the top. The cup was once again within hissites. unfortunately, though he managed to bring the thimble, there was no way to bring the box up with him, but he didn't let that deter him. If necessary, he'd knock the cup over, scoop up some of the spillage, and deal with Amanda's wrath. At least then he'd get some drinking done in the bargain.Alas, even before he could find out if he COULD knock the cup over, Amanda's giant hand picked up the glass, as if on cue. This time, she put it next to the cooler, denying Jack his quarry yet again. He laid down and cursed to himself.

Then he realized something. The glass had landed with a thunk, meaning she rested it on something. He went up to the edge of the cooler and looked down.  His heart leapt! She'd put it down on her book, which was right next to the cooler. The liquid was just a few inches under him, if he could only reach it.  He lay down on his belly and lowered the thimble towards the surface of the drink. It was a bit short, so he scooted forward a bit. Still not quite there.He moved his waist to the edge, lowering his whole torso towards his goal. The thimble was now just touching the surface. If only he could reach down just a little lower...Amanda, who really had begun to ignore Jack by now, was snapped out of her light nap by a kerplunking sound that reminded her of ice cubes going into water, but not quite. She picked up her cup to examine it. The level had raised slightly, and the drink had been disturbed, and was swirling around. Suddenly a tinyfigure popped out of the liquid, climbed up the straw, and threw its arms over the rim for support. "Jack!" she cried out, honestly surprised. "I don't recall inviting you in for a drink.  "He spit out what wine cooler remained in his mouth and replied, "That's okay, I think I've had my limit."  "I like a man who can hold his liquor, but in this case I'd say the liquor is holding you!

"Jack gasped as a rising ice cube wedged between his legs before continuing onits way to the top. "Very funny, but now how about getting me out of here?"  "After you went to all that trouble getting in? I wouldn't think of it!"

"C'mon, please, it's colder in here than it was in the cooler!  "She smiled, putting a straw in the cup. "Well, I'll help you my way." With that, she brought the straw to her mouth and slowly but steadily drew the liquid out.  Jack, still anchored at the rim by his arms, felt the surface level going down and had to marvel at his enormous wife's physical capabilities!  After a minute or so, almost all the drink was gone, and she set the drink down on the sand. "Hey, now what?" He demanded as his legs dangled freely in the glass.

"You'll see," she grinned. Sure enough, the glass, now empty, was unbalanced by Jack's weight at the top and took a spill.  He got out, and shook his arms, which had rosy droplets of wine cooler coming off them. "I've got to get this stuff off!"  "Allow me," she said, snatching him up and walking to the water.

"Watch it, careful!" Jack screamed, as the splashing tide seemed like a vast stormy ocean to him.  "Relax," she said, dipping him in a few times until he was more or less clean."Besides, it's not worth going to the beach if you don't at least get your head wet.  "She placed him down on the beach towel and handed him a torn portion of a facecloth that she had brought for him. She then took out a bottle of sunscreen."You know, I almost forgot about this." She dabbed a bit on her finger and brought it towards him.  He backed up.  

"Hey, that's okay, I can do it myself!" He took a few more steps backwards and found himself back against her other hand. "Nonsense, I can do it much faster, and isn't more fun when a girl does it for you?" She quickly smeared him all over, then released him and began covering herself.

"Hey, shouldn't I be covering you, then?" He protested.  She laughed. "It's not like we're going to be here all week. Would you like to do my toe?" She extended her foot and handed him a small dab of lotion. While she did the rest f his body, he covered her toe. When he was finished, she took a final glob and did the remainder of her foot herself. "Your hands are tiny, but they're thorough," she said, wiggling the great toe in approval.  With that, they settled down with their books. Amanda curled up with her mystery novel, and Jack took out his miniature novel, produced by a book publisher Amanda found in a catalog. The books were hardbacks the size of unabridged dictionaries to him, but at least he could read them without having to walk on them. Unfortunately, all they sold were classics, so Jack was forced to be more intellectual than he wanted to be. At least "The Three Musketeers" had a little action in it. Amanda tried to get him to read "Gulliver's Travels", but he toldher he wasn't interested in nonfiction.

After awhile he was bored with the book and, seeing Amanda still absorbed by hers, decided to find something to do. He wandered off the towel onto the sand, which was wet but not muddy. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. He went and got his thimble and gathered sand in it, then emptied it. The squat cylinder It produced was so solid he could pick it up without losing a particle of it. He recalled how, when he was young, the bigger he tried to make a sand castle, the harder it was to make it hold together. Now that he was at this size, he might be able to make the sand castles of his dreams!

After about a half an hour, he was making good progress. It was square shaped castle with a turret at each corner. He was beginning to start on the moat whena huge shadow was cast over him. Amanda's giant feminine hand came down and pointed to the little castle as her giggles rumbled through the air. "You call THAT a castle?" She laughed again. It was mortifying. Jack had gotten so absorbed in creating something on a smaller scale than himself that he'd forgotten just how tiny he was.

He got up, a little indignant, to face his critic. "So I make a small sandcastle? Does that seem unusual?  "She shook her head no. "It's not the size, it's the quality. As a castle builder, you're obviously an amateur.""It's better than anything you could make," he challenged. "I accept. What's the prize?"  "How about the loser has to do without alcohol for the rest of the day?"  "You got it." Her thumb and forefinger came down and gently shook his hand onthe deal.

Then they proceeded to work.  Amanda proceeded to build a few feet from Jack, a safe enough distance to see his progress while not interfering with it. To Jack, however, it was like watching a major engineering project spring up next door. Using a shovel and pail bought nearby, Amanda excavated and piled together countless tons of sand by Jack's reckoning. The project made his castle look positively...miniature.  After awhile, he gave up on his structure (He couldn't think of anything else to add on to it, anyway) and just watched her work on hers. She was right, her technique was superior. Even judged relative to the scale of their builders, hers far outstripped his, even with his advantage of greater sand cohesiveness.

She noticed him. "The trick, you see, is to build it like an Aztec pyramid, with sloping sides and plateaus. That gives it a lot more solid base."  "Doesn't look very medieval, though," he observed.  "Who says it has to?" she shrugged. "But anyway, it will once I add on the extras.  "The "extras," as it turned out, included turrets with conical roofs, a drawbridge (courtesy of some driftwood), and, most impressively, a grand staircase up to the top of the structure. To top it off, Amanda took a small plastic flag mounted on an 18-inch plastic pole (probably meant for a child's bike) and stuck it deep into the top, so that the flag flew six inches over it.  She stood next to it and gestured like a hostess on a game show. "Well, do you like it?"  He slowly walked up to the huge thing, the size of a small stadium to him, then looked back at his tiny structure. "They don't compare," he admitted, "even allowing for scale yours looks three times bigger and better made."

"Oh, I don't know," she said charitably, "I like the vertical walls on yours.  That's pretty rare in a sand castle. In fact, it would make a perfect finishing  touch."  "What do you mean?" he asked. In answer, she carefully scooped her shovel under it, lifted it up and placed his whole castle atop her castle.  "A castle for a castle," she said proudly. "Would you like to continue work onit up here, your majesty?"  He looked up at the structure. "Are you going to put me there?"  "I could, but then how would I get to show off how well I made my lovely stairs?"  "Well, for starters..." he pointed to the moat which, at eight inches wide and just as deep, was pretty much impassable for him. "Oh, silly me," she said, lowering the driftwood drawbridge, which allowed him to cross. Unfortunately, there was no real doorway for the drawbridge to open to, but there was, of course, the stairs. Jack tested the first step, which settled a little right where he stepped, but was otherwise quite solid.  Amanda watched with unrestrained delight. "I've always loved making sand castles, but I've never been able to make one for a tenant before.

"After half a minute, Jack reached the top, where he found he had a considerably better view and surroundings than he had on the ground. "This is pretty cool,  "he admitted. His whole world was now sculpted sand, save for the plastic flag."I think I'll spend the rest of the day up here!" Amanda was ecstatic. She picked up a gold cigar band with triangular spokes at one end, washed it in the water, and placed it on Jack's head. Then, with her pencil, she tapped him once on each shoulder. "I dub thee King Beach." "Hmm, then fetch me a flagon of thy finest ale?""Hey, are you forgetting out little bet? No brew to the loser."  "How dare you, a mere peasant, address your king in such a tone?  "She stood up suddenly, her frame casting a shroud over Jack's kingdom. "Watchit," she said, raising a foot over it, "We peasants have been known to hold uprisings!" "Okay, okay," he shouted quickly. "I'll be a figurehead instead!"She kneeled down again. "That's more like it. Shall we sign a treaty?"  "I've got a better idea."

"What?" "Let's drink on it.  "She groaned. "Okay, you win." She filled her cup and his, and they both emptied them before resuming their reading. Jack rested on a doll-sized beach chair she'd brought with them. After awhile, Amanda put down her book and turned her sunglass covered eyes to the pleasing sight of her miniature husband reposed in his miniature throne.

Jack enjoyed the view from the castle (a view which included Amanda), and felt his body warmed by the sun on his skin and the alcohol under his skin...A great crashing noise woke him up. He sat up with a start. How long had he been asleep? He quickly looked towards Amanda, who whose head was still turned towards him, smiling. "Phew," he said, "I was afraid you might not be here. How long was I out? "  Just then, he heard another crashing noise. He walked towards the other end of the castle and saw that the tide had come in and was pounding on the castle, which had already lost a considerable amount of its base on its sea side. "Hey, you better get me out of here, this castle won't last much longer."

Amanda did not move. "Amanda?" He shouted nervously, "Don't give me a hard time again, please! I really don't like the look of those waves. I know you can getme out any time-" but then he noticed something, a faint snoring noise coming from Amanda's nostrils. Beneath her sunglasses, she was fast asleep.Jack quickly proceeded towards the steps of the castle, which were on theopposite side of the pounding surf. But just as he was taking his first step another wave came in and completely surrounded the castle, washing away half the stairway and the drawbridge, leaving the moat full and utterly impassable for someone his size. He backed off as he saw the top portion of the stairs crumble away.

He turned and looked behind him. One of the two turrets near the ocean began to lean over, and then tumbled downward as a new wave hit. As the wave receded, the second turret began to topple as well, taking about a fifth of the castle with it.

Jack was now standing on a giant mound of sand, which was being eroded on all four sides by increasingly high and strong waves. He ran to the center for safety, then realized that was not the best position, as the ocean side was of course being eaten away far more quickly. As he neared it, he saw a fault line develop a few paces from him, as nearly half the castle, its base eroded, fell into the sea as the strongest wave yet hit it, sending droplets of water over the top like a giant sideways rain.  Jack had to think of something fast. He needed a way to signal Amanda, but more importantly, a way to survive the next wave, which was surely going to go over the top. There was nothing there to stop it except sand, his tiny lawn chair...and the flag.  The flag! It was made of hard plastic and stuck deep within the castle. Fortunately, it was on the opposite side of the surf, and the sand beneath it was still intact. He took a leap towards it, but before his foot could move again, the next wave hit, and its waters traveled over the castle, as he had feared it would.

On the bright side, the water didn't crash against the castle, as its surf side was now eroded and smooth, offering no resistance. Also, the sheet of water only went a little past his ankles, not enough to wash even him away.   But there was a downside. He felt the sand melt beneath his feet, and when the water withdrew, he found himself embedded in the wet, thick sand up almost to his knees. He was trapped, with a larger wave still on the way.  Only one chance. When the next wave came, he lied down, letting its strong current push him out. (The water level was now high enough to go over his head as he lay flat.) He then found himself surging forward with the wave. He reached with all his might, trying to catch the flag as he sped towards it.  He missed  In that instant, he knew he would most probably go over the edge of the castle,then would get sucked back into the sea when the wave retreated, but again luck was with him. The wave began to recede just as he reached the edge, and he was pulled back over the castle, allowing him to grab the flag.Just in time, too. When the next wave appeared, he knew he would never have survived it without the pole to cling too. He was buffeted like clinging sea weed as the water, now past his waist standing up, forced its way over the lump of sand that had once been his kingdom.

He was as safe on the castle as he was going to get, which was not very reassuring. He now had to figure out how to get Amanda's attention. She was in full view from the flagpole, and he saw that the flood that was plaguing him might also help rescue him. The last wave came very close to Amanda. As the waves reached her she'd surely wake up. But what if the wave that was enough for her proved to be too much for him?  That looked like the way it was going to be, as Jack was hit by a wave that went up to his neck, nearly making him lose his grip. As he heard the next wave preparing to hit, he saw the only way out was up. He began to slowly shimmy up the pole, which was about ten inches high. It was difficult, but the plastic was of less than perfect construction, allowing him some small footholds.

This, at least, was as good a signaling post as he was going to get. Not only was he as high as he could get, but the crashing surf and his weight made the tiny flag bob to and fro.  But though he was safe for the moment (assuming he didn't lose his grip), the flag became more and more unsteady as the waves took away the sand at its base, making it rock faster and further.

"Amanda!" he cried, the world around him a giant blur. The water no longer receded completely, meaning he would fall into the ocean as soon as he lost his perch, which, judging from the nearly leveled castle, wouldn't be long. If only he could hold on for the few more seconds it would take for the water to wake Amanda....Suddenly, the pole stopped whipping about, and began to lean like a falling tree, sending him crashing into the surf......the same surf splashed gently against Amanda's face, waking her from a sleep she hadn't realized she'd fallen into. She shook her head and sat up, annoyed tosee her beach book dampened at the edges. Why didn't Jack say something? She gasped. Jack. The castle...gone.

Terrified, she ran over to the spot where she had placed him, no showing no signs that it had ever held the structure she'd built. "Oh my god, Jack! You have to be alive." After the initial despair, her mind raced for a possible solution. If Jack had gotten away, she would have seen him by now, but if he was trapped on the castle, the only thing that might have sustained him was the flagpole, which was made of plastic, which floated.

She scanned the nearby waters...Jack clung to the pole like a log, hoping the tide would draw him back in.  Suddenly, he saw something circling. It was a small "sea dog," a tiny shark native to the waters. They were considered harmless, but to someone of Jack's size, it was a beast larger than a great white. It circled, then approached, but then the water all around swelled as Amanda's giant form rose out of the water, sending the outmatched beast scurrying. Before another moment had passed, her hands had cupped together, scooping up jack and the flagpole up.   For a second, Jack wondered how she would hold him and stay afloat at the same time, but then he realized she was only in five feet of water, and could still walk on the sand below. She was silent all the way back to the beach, which admittedly wasn't a long journey. He was strangely disappointed to find how close the shore he'd been all along.  She set him down carefully, then looked him over. "You all right?" she asked quietly. He looked himself over. "Never felt better," he concluded. To his surprise, she fainted.  Amanda came to, feeling a poking at her cheek. It was Jack, who was wielding the flagpole. "Thought I'd lost you again," he said, setting it down.  She picked him up and began smothering him with kisses, almost literally. "Oh, Jack," she exclaimed between smooches, "Oh, Jack, this was all my fault. If I'd lost you..." "Well, stop kissing me or I'll suffocate, and you'll lose me anyway!" "Oh, sorry." She put him down, and looked at him like she was a puppy that had been bad. "If I hadn't drunk myself to sleep...""Oh, like I didn't want a drink myself, or don't you remember?" She giggled inspite of herself, recalling Jack plunged into her drink. "And," he continued,  "If I hadn't drank so much myself I could've gotten off the castle way before there was any trouble."

"Still, I think I owe you some compensation."  "Like.." he asked, intrigued.  "How about, you get to be in charge tonight?  "His eyes widened. "You mean as in 'in charge' charge?" She nodded yes. "Hot damn!" Jack said. "Let's go to the beach more often!!"***

That night, Amanda not only served Jack his favorite meal, but she cut it herself, not an easy task considering the size of his utensils. He considered asking her to feed him, but decided it would be easier to do it himself. His mouth was kind of hard for her to aim at.

"Nevertheless," he added "This is great. I should have asked for more nights."

"Oh, come on," she retorted, "Surely you don't think I could play along with this for more than one night, do you?" "Yeah, I guess the novelty would wear off pretty soon. Nonetheless, I intend to enjoy this night while it lasts." He snapped his fingers. "Stand on one foot."  She complied.  "Now pat your head and rub your belly.  "She complied again, and he enjoyed the sight of her trying to keep balance, as she was wearing heels at the time. After half a minute, she pointed out with gritted teeth, "You know, it might be pretty funny to watch me fall doing this..."He laughed.  She continued: "...but you know, there's the possibility that I might fall on you.  "He hesitated. "Oh, yeah."  "Besides," she added, "Aren't there more fun things you think you could have a giantess wife do for you?"  "Yes, of course you're right, slave." He clapped his hands again. "Cease all that and carry my person into the bedroom."  "But of course, master," she said, as she held out her palm.  "Wait!" he added, pointing to a small object. "Bring that as well."  "What for?"  "Slaves don't ask; they obey."  "Yes, sir." As per his instructions, she carried him to the bedroom and set him down on the right hand pillow.  "Now, lay down on your belly and be still." She did, and she felt his tiny form   climb onto her arm and proceed down her back.  "What are you--" she asked. "Why, isn't it obvious," he replied, stopping at her buttocks. He raised the object, a plastic coffee swizzle stick with a wide flat end like a cricket back. "You've been bad today, and I'm going to give you the spanking you deserve." "Oh no!" she yelped dramatically as the first of many tiny swats landed on her back side.