Plaything Part 1 

by

Unknown

William was boring. His scope of life didn't extend beyond his
trivial passions: video games, sci-fi, anime, spy paperbacks, cable
TV and keeping on top of the latest in technology. He hadn't slept
with a woman since college and the few times he tried to get out of
his house in Palm Springs were pitifully unsuccessful. Invariably he
would retreat to a corner or hand around the edge of the dance floor
nervously bobbing his head and shuffling a little to the whumping
beat as he stared at the girls. He wanted them, the blondes, goths,
trendies, asians, and glamour girls, but the haughty way they held
themselves, their tight clothing- sophisticated or outrageous- and
their cruel red lips held him back. Too intimidated to approach, he'd
watch helplessly as they strutted, danced, and invariably disappeared
with a group of chattering girlfriends or a prowling alpha male.
Returning home he'd breathe a sigh of dissapointment and relief and
turn on Dragnet or cartoons, trying not to b!
erate himself for being a shameless lecher as well as an impotent
coward. He was, in short, a looser. 
But William was a very wealthy looser. His immaturity and countless
hours frittered away in front of the computer had made him somewhat
of an expert on technology and youth trends. He'd helped finance the
extension of Telletubbies from the U.K. to America, invested in the
import of Sailor Moon and the even more lucrative introduction of
Pokemon to US children. He was on top of the latest in life
enhancement, from better cell phones reception to clearer TV imaging.
In his most successful venture he had brought over the Tomogachi
craze from Japan. He had built up the project from the ground level;
it was under his influence that the model marketed to westerners was
developed (featuring a ressurectable chick to accommodate the
irresponsibility of American kids). In spite of bastard rip-offs like
Giga-pets, he'd made a fortune, and now enjoyed the cushy job of
trying out prototypes of computer games and gadgets and predicting
for the companies how to modify, if possible, their p!
roduct for American consumers. 
So it was no surprise to William when UPS dropped off a package the
size of a milk crate plastered with cautionary stickers warning
FRAGILE in both Japanese and English from Ban Dai Corporation, Tokyo.
Ban Dai was high tech, but most of the stuff they'd sent him was way
too weirdly Japanese to ever market in the US. As far as really
Japanese products went, the manga and anime doo-dads were usually a
safe bet, but William had learned that the Japanese have a very
different idea of what's fun than Americans. The only item of theirs
he'd been able to push in the US was the Tomagachi, and even that was
weird enough that the craze, though lucrative, did not last long. He
thought back to the last product they'd sent him, almost a year ago;
he vaguely remembered a small and technologically sophisticated
hologram generator which produced some very lifelike but bizarre
cutesy things doing... well, he'd never been able to figure out what
the hell was going on. The music was way off, t!
oo; spooky but really catchy. The irksome jingle came back to him as
he carefully cut open the box containing whatever it was they'd been
cooking up in the year since he rejected the toy. 
Inside the box, nestled in layers of foam packing, was a package full
of brightly colored pills and a second packed with white pills, a
small black sealed baggie and an instruction sheet along with a
request for evaluation from the people at Ban Dai. He'd nearly
forgotten this job in the weeks since the company had contacted him;
fifteen hundred dollars for his expert opinion. William smiled
smugly, satisfied with the knowledge that he'd come so far that money
rolled into his bank account for playing with a new toys. He settled
back to examine the products more closely. 
While the business letter was written pretty fluently, the enclosed
instructions were a mess of typically garbled English. He scanned
them; they seemed simple enough. 'OK,' William said 'I am opening
black baggy of SODATSU NA ON'NA NO KO with gently and put in lighted
place.' He carefully opened the airtight plastic bag and took a look
at SODATSU NA ON'NA NO KO. 
It was an egg. Slightly larger and more round than a regular egg, the
thing was spongy and white but pearly. The multicolored sheen of the
opalescent surface looked tacky, and William decided it was a girl
toy. Typical 'chibi' and 'kawaii'. He turned it around, couldn't find
any buttons or seams and, shrugging, set it on the counter under the
kitchen lamp. 
Nothing happened. After ten minutes of staring at the damn thing,
William flipped on the TV, glancing from time to time at the soft,
shiny egg. 
When 'Three's Company' broke for commercial, he looked again, aware
that he'd gotten too absorbed in the show to check on the egg for
some time. He couldn't see any change from his seat but he went over
to check more closely anyhow. No American kid would be patient enough
to sit around this long waiting for their new gadget to start
working. Something must have happened by now, he thought. 
And indeed it had. A small part of the egg was protruding slightly;
he could actually see the distended part moving subtly. The tiny
pulse in the spot intensified into a definite push from the inside.
Hatching, William figured. Makes sense. He grew juvenilely impatient,
shifting his weight from one foot to the other, anxious to see what
the hell was going to come out. 
He had predicted something ridiculously cute, befitting the girly
shimmer of the egg, but nothing prepared him for the tiny figure that
finally broke out from the spongy shell and crept out, gleaming wetly
with the egg's thick fluid, onto the counter to lie, heaving, in the
light of the kitchen lamp. It was a girl. A tiny, naked girl- no, a
woman; she had full breasts and a wisp of pubic hair that matched the
dense purple hair on her head. 'Jesus H. Christ,' William mumbled
aloud, 'how the hell did they put that together?' What was it made
of? Was it- she- alive? Whatever she was, it wasn't human; she looked
exactly like an anime babe: huge eyes quivering with beads of light,
shiny purple hair falling into perfect soft spikes, enormous (well,
proportionally) tits, the works. He was dumbfounded. And then she
spoke. 
'Mika!' It was a small, high-pitched voice. What did 'Mika' mean? Was
that her name? Did she need something? Without taking his eyes off
the little living doll, he stepped away and quickly fumbled for the
instructions. Under 'care' he read that, according to the shitty
language of the directions, he was supposed to give it food and
water, like a pet, and the instructions referred him to the bag of
colored pills marked 'esa na ni naru'. 
On closer inspection, he realized that the brightly colored contents
were not pills but some kind of solid pellet; they looked more or
less like really big rainbow sprinkles. What the hell was in those
things? Worry about that later, William decided, and scuttled back to
the counter to feed the tiny girl, who was lying limply from the
exertion of hatching. At his approach, she picked up her head and
fixed him with those unnaturally huge, dilated eyes. 'Mika!' she
whined. He selected a blue candy-pill-thing for her and extended his
hand. 'Mika! Mika!' she yelped and sprang to her feet, dancing from
one foot to the other and raising both arms to grab at his fingers.
She snatched it eagerly and immediately started biting into it with
greedy hunger. 
William took out his notepad and tried to think how to record what
had just happened. Under the last entry of 'No change' he noted the
time and recorded the amount of food given, the utterance that was,
presumably, her name, and a description of her features. He searched
around in his desk and finally found a ruler to check her dimensions.
No tape measure, but he figured he could measure her proportions with
string and then measure that. Getting her to stand still long enough
to be measured was tricky, but with some coaxing she stood upright
and he measured her height at 3.8 in. The string method worked pretty
well, her dimensions came out to 2.5, 1.3, 2.2 inches. Outlandish for
a human.... well, outlandish for an ordinary woman. He weighed her in
at just over a pound, with Mika more or less cooperating. She was a
little skittish, but seemed to understand that he wasn't going to
hurt her. What did she make of all this? Could she even think?
William was at a loss. She whined !
again and he gave her another colored 'esa'. He watched as the downed
the second, then began to explore his messy countertop. 
She sniffed around in circles before making her way over to Mike's
Dilbert mug still half full of sludgy coffee from this morning. Her
fingertips just barely reached the rim, and she stepped back, cocked
her head and asked 'Mika?' A few more steps took her to the handle,
which she shinnied up to perch on the rim of the mug, sniffing and
wrinkling her all-but-invisible nose. She gave a little yelp of
delight when she saw her reflection in the murky coffee, and began
tilting her head and admiring herself with a satisfied insect purr.
Reaching up to coyly brush her hair, Mika lost her grip and fell
foreword into the mug. Plip. Michael quickly emptied girl and coffee
into the sink. The girl, purple hair all muddy with coffee, was
spitting and gagging at the bitter taste but seemed otherwise ok. 
'You're lucky that shit wasn't hot, little Mika-thing,' Michael said
as he rinsed her gently, wondering what he was supposed to do with
her. He referred to the instructions and saw glossy pictures of
plastic SODATSU NA ON'NA NO KO habitats ranging from tiny to enormous
'depending on how much roaming space you want her to have,' Michael
figured. Well, he wasn't going to shell out for one of these plastic
playgrounds for a test sample, he decided. Not when he still had the
terrarium left behind by Basilisk, the iguana that had escaped and
turned up dead under the couch three weeks later. It was three and a
half feet by two and a good two and a half high, with a little lamp,
fake rocks and a water dish. 'Well, baby,' he told Mika, 'it aint a
little jap penthouse, but it'll have to be good enough for you.' 
It was not good enough for her. Mika held her tiny nose and,
gesturing at the iguana crap encrusting the glass walls, yelled
'Mi-KA!' at him. 'Sorry, babe,' Mike said, placing the screen cover
on the glass tank. He dashed off a few more observations, then
watched Mika circle the terrarium, finally curling up catlike in a
corner. He stared at her tiny body for a long time, watching her
impossible breasts rise and fall as she breathed in and out. He
couldn't help thinking that if she weren't a toy-pet-product and if
she were life-sized.... He suddenly snapped back to reality and shook
his head, aware of his slight but waxing hardness and unnerved by it.
'Sweet dreams, Mika,' he whispered, and snapped off the light as he
left the room. 
At three am he was awakened by an insistent cry of
'Mika-Mika-Mika-Mika-Mika...' He groaned, rolled over and tried to
sleep through it, but she seemed to have sensed that he was awake
because her cries changed in pitch; her calls became insistent,
demanding. 'Mmmrrrgh,' and he was out of bed, fumbling for the light
switch. 'Like a goddamn Tomogachi,' he thought. Like a baby. 
Mika was no baby. He could see from her indignant expression when he
approached her terrarium that she was all woman, and a
high-mainanance one at that. She scowled at him as though he'd stood
her up for a big date, and her womanly fury actually made her even
more unbearably cute; her breasts bobbing as she huffed, sticking out
her lower lip and tossing her head. 'Heh heh heh, all riled up, huh?'
'Mika,' she said coldly, her wide eyes narrowed to thick-lashed slits
with derision. 'What what what?' he asked, taken aback, then realized
he was being rebuked by a toy, whipped by less than four inches of a
girl. No fucking way. But a second glance at Mika, fuming like an
incensed cat, rattled his feelings of domination, and he reached for
the bag of colored food pellets, eager to get this over with. 
'There, ya happy?' he asked, proffering a green one. The little vixen
snatched it from his fingertips and gave him a disdainful, yet
forgiving 'Mika.' He tossed in a couple more in case she got hungry
again, and filled the dish with water. As he was replacing it, he
noticed how dirty the bowl was and, without thinking, immediately
returned to the kitchen to scrub it before offering it to his
demanding ward. She seemed pleased with the water dish and, after
admiring herself in the reflection yet again, rinsed her face and
hands, and even allowed him to very carefully stroke her hair with
one fingertip. It was softer than a robin's breast. He remained
caressing her, transfixed, until she rose to her feet, stretched her
lithe and voluptuous body and dismissed him with a nod. Michael
returned to his room and crawled back into bed. Lying, waiting for
sleep, he could still feel her smoothness against his fingertips. 
Morning found Mika still curled up and dozing in the slice of
sunshine that fell across her body from the chink in the blinds. Her
glossy hair was rumpled. 'Morning, sweet thing,' Mike said, and Mika
mumbled and snuggled her head further into her folded arms, clearly
determined to wake up when and only when it suited her. Smiling,
Michael went through the coffee-making ritual and munched on a
frosted Pop Tart, unfolding the newspaper. He forced himself to read
most of the cover stories, a facsimile of adulthood he'd purposely
adopted, before allowing himself to flip to the comics. Today's Ziggy
made no sense and the Family Circus, as always, turned his stomach,
but he read it anyway. 
'Too bad she's too little to cook,' he thought, remembering the
stacks of pancakes and those little sausage patties his mother used
to churn out. The place could certainly use a woman's touch; the
house was masculine by default and sloppiness. Where worthless
nostalgia like Happy Meal toys weren't crowding the tabletops, empty
beer cans, CD and DVD collectors edition boxes stood under a film of
dust alongside vestiges of manliness, like the enormous lighter
shaped like a tiger (Mike didn't smoke) and expensive hunting knives
that were lucky to see use if he needed to open a bag of Fritos.
Movie posters took up the wallspace along with a Jimmy Hendrix, an
M.C. Esher print, a blacklight spiral (throwbacks to college days he
couldn't part with) and a mounted pair of stag antlers, which he
couldn't remember acquiring. Yessir, if she were life-sized, his
little woman could really make the place a little tidier, at least.
Mike had never fully adjusted to independent living, and in!
 spite of degree, career, bulging bank account and house, Mike still
lived like he was a college student, slumping around while waiting
for the next deadline or party. That's another thing, he thought,
becoming once again acutely and uncomfortably aware of his
loneliness. I'd screw her little jap brains out if she were life
sized. In a second. He glanced at the tank and was gratified to see
Mika stretching and rubbing her eyes. 
'Hey, you.' Mike approached the terrarium and inspected Mika. She
flashed him a smile and held out her hands for another pellet. Damn,
she'd finished both the extras he'd thrown in last night and still
she wanted more. How long was she going to keep eating like this. He
handed her a pink pellet, teasing 'you're gonna get fat if you don't
look out, sweetie.' 
He did a double take. Had she gotten fatter? He examined her more
closely. Nope, still trim and curved like an obscene hourglass, but
she did look heavier somehow. Bigger, he realized. He mulled that
over. Makes sense, he thought, the program has to have some sort of
direction or, personality aside, she'd be no different from any pet
like his late iguana. Go over well with girls, too- the whole
mothering thing. Good design feature, he decided, and waited for her
to finish the two yellows he'd fed her before attempting to measure
her. When she'd finished licking her fingers, Mike lowered his hand
into the tank, palm open and Mika, understanding, stepped into it.
She seemed to be catching on to the ruler bit, too. She stood up
straight and grinned as he checked her height. Was she aware she was
growing? It would seem so; she gestured towards her expanded chest
and held her head high. Well, high being 4.5 inches, but what a spurt
for less than a day! Incredible, Mike thought. A!
t least he now knew why she was eating so damn much; he'd been
wondering if maybe she weren't like on of those goldfish that just
keep eating as long as you feed them, right up to the minute they go
belly-up with a busted gut. 
Mika strutted for a few minutes, and further explored the countertop.
She gave the coffee a wide berth, and instead scrambled nimbly up a
pile of empty pizza boxes and food containers, surveying the room
from the top. She then leapt like a deer, diving towards and grapping
ahold of, the telephone cord. She shimmied up the coils, examined the
entirely uninteresting mouthpiece of the telephone, and then
clambered back down to the lowest point of the loop, where she swung
idly back and forth, legs braced against the wall. 
Michael observed her play and added 'physical coordination and
activity' to his notation on her size increase. No wonder Ban Dai
offered such big pens for these things, all full of ladders and
wheels and swing-bars. These SODATSU NA ON'NA NO KOS were highly
active and curious; he would have to teeny-girlie-proof his house,
the thought, surveying all the potential dangers on the countertop
and lying on the floor. Those hunting knives, the lighter, the
outlets.... He checked back to make sure Mika hadn't already gotten
into trouble and was shocked to see that, still braced by her legs
against the wall, she'd straddled one side of the phone cord loop and
was grinding her pelvis against the plastic cord between her legs.
'Jesus H. Christ!' he said, and approached his brazen pet, who
continued wriggling and emitted an audible purr and short squeaks of
pleasure. Mika turned her head and saw him standing beside her, mouth
open, and slid him a sexy, slow smile through sultry, half-c!
losed eyes. 'Meeeeeka,' she cooed in a husky, breathless voice, and
spread her slender legs wider. He could smell her desire, rising off
her in waves of sweetness underscored with the thick, raw female
scent of a heated animal. Christ! They could never sell such a thing
to kids, Mike decided as his mind recovered from the shock. He shook
his head to clear it, trying not to be overpowered by her sweet-musk
sex smell, and pulled her carefully off the phone cord. A filmy smear
of her wetness shone on the cord as it settled against the wall. 
Mika, however, did not cease her motions, but continued to thrust her
pelvis at nothing as he held her, facing away from him, by the waist.
She emitted a small whine at the cessation of stimulation, and
twisted her hot, moist body in Mike's hand, so that she lay on his
palm and coiled her legs around his index finger. Mike watched
helplessly as she began to slowly humping his finger, nuzzling his
second knuckle with her silky purple head. What was he supposed to
do? He could feel the warmth and sticky dampness of her crotch, and
her (proportionally) huge and perfectly round breasts bobbed with a
frenetic motion that was both lewd and exquisite. His feeling of
shock was being superceded with an intense fascination that was more
than purely academic. Mike had never seen a woman so genuinely turned
on before, so shamelessly pleasure-drunk, and his body responded,
heedless of the strange nature of the source of his arousal.
Unconsciously he urged her on, as her thrusts became mo!
re frantic and her huffing and gasps were punctuated by short, sharp
squeaks of 'Mika! Mika!'. 
Before he could decide what to do, Mika's body made a final, violent
thrash against his finger, and she climaxed in a spurt of girl juice
and a shriek of agonized pleasure 'Miii-kaaaaa!'. She collapsed,
sprawled across his palm, legs dangling, and gazed up at him through
sated, half closed eyes, still panting. She giggled and chirped
'Mika' softly like a naughty child. Mike set her down gently on the
arm of the sofa and collapsed against the cushions, unaware that his
left hand had found its way to his crotch. She slowly, mindlessly
pumped her legs against the soft upholstery, and let her hands wander
to her big breasts to aimlessly caress their still-stiff nipples, as
her body wound down from her violent climax. Mike slumped, dazed, and
wondered what to make of it all. 

Plaything Part 2 
Kate 

Mike, a young and wealthy investor and product tester for a Japanese
toy company, has been given a prototype for a new product, a tiny
anime-modeled woman who 'hatches' from a synthetic egg. She lives on
synthetic food- brightly colored pellets- and has a vocabulary of a
single word: Mika. One day after receiving her in the mail, Mike is
surprised to find that she has grown from 3.8 to 4.5 inches. In spite
of her limited size and vocabulary, Mike discovers that 'Mika' is not
only cognizant but temperamental and sexual. 


Part of Mike was shocked at what he had done. Mika was a product, he
told himself, not a person- well, not human, anyway. And yet... he
watched her snuggle dreamily into the leather sofa... she was a
woman. A tiny woman. A growing woman, at that, though he was sure the
developmental phase of her program had been completed. Well, she
certainly wouldn't do as a toy for little girls, he thought dryly.
Maybe that's not what she was designed for. A living anime babe, a
live woman who ate, slept, grew... and fucked. Jesus Christ! Maybe
she was designed for lonely men. Lonely single men, certainly, since
the little wife would never care for such a thing. But single men
worked; how would they go about handling the constant maintenance?
Lonely old men, then. Like me, he thought. Twenty six and already
curled up to sit on my pile of money and stare at the ceiling. 
Mike's head snapped up as a mug full of pens scattered on the carpet,
overturned by Mika, who yelped, then met Mike's gaze and giggled
apologetically. She turned her attention towards the range of desktop
clutter that must have been a landscape to her. She explored the
surface of the desk with a fearlessness that might have been
innocence or boldness, her curiosity matched only by the shortness of
her attention span. She picked up an unbent paperclip and showed off
her strength by bending it into a circle, unbending it again and
stabbing it into a gummy eraser. She sniffed out a wad of chewing gum
stuck to a post-it and licked it tentatively. Her tiny mouth spread
into a skull-splitting grin when she discovered its pliability, and
Mika began forming the gum into various shapes: now a pancake, now a
tube, now an egg. Her interest already dwindling, she made to toss
the gum aside and her shiny blue eyes widened when it remained stuck
to both hands. Mike chuckled as she whimper!
ed in distress, then frustration as she unstuck the gum from one
hand, only to transfer it to the other. Long strands of gum stretched
between her hands and fingers as she tried to extricate her little
hands, and as her frustration peaked, her little face crumpled and
she let out a tiny 'Meeee...' that grew into a wail 'KAAAAA!!', and
she began screaming with impotent rage, shaking her purple-haired
head and pounding her gummy fists in a bull-blown tantrum. 'Ok, Ok,
calm down, sweetie,' Mike shushed her, using a wet paper towel to
wipe her sticky hands off. Her shrieking died down to a whimper, and
she snuffled as she wiggled her clean fingers and rubbed her hands
together. She hiccupped a few times and wiped her nose with her hand.
'There there,' Mike said, petting her pretty hair with two gentle
fingers. His fussy little girl smiled up at him and said 'Mika' with
a distinct tone of gratitude. Then, her fit over and her curiosity
rekindled, she struck out to explore the res!
t of Mike's messy desk, ignoring him completely. 

She opened an inkpad, wrinkled her nose at the odor and abandoned it,
unwittingly planting one foot on its surface as she moved on to
examine the Newton's Cradle, leaving tiny perfect left footprints
across a sheet of paper, each one smaller than a thumbprint. She
seemed perplexed by the metal balls suspended from the wooden frame,
which was level with her head, and gave the row of six balls and
experimental push. When they swung back and forth, she gave a little
scream of glee: 'Meee-ka!' She circled the Newton's Cradle, and gave
the metal balls another shove. Mike said 'Hey, little Mika, check
this out. This is what you do,' and her stopped the thing's motion,
pulled back the suspended ball on the right end and let it go,
allowing it to make contact with a click and making the ball on the
left end swing out. Mika's eyes widened with amazement, and her head
ticked back and forth, following the movement. When it slowed, she
quickly moved to do what Mike had done, setting the!
 device into motion again. Dear God, she was so cute, Mike thought,
watching her bright-eyed fascination. Then, seeing that she was
totally engrossed in this new toy, he flicked on the TV and settled
into the patchy leather sofa to watch Topcat. 
A few minutes later, Mika called out to him. With a little reluctance
he abandoned the program to attend to her. 'What?' She was saying
'Mika Mika', both arms extended and nodding towards the kitchen. 'Oh,
right. Food.' Mike rustled her up a small handful of pellets, and set
them, and Mika, on the coffee table, where she fell to with startling
voracity, making smacking sounds that told him that, whatever they
were, those giant sprinkles were tasty as hell. He licked a blue one
with the tip of his tongue and found it unbearably sweet. 'Eeech. You
can have those for yourself,' he told her and settled down at the
computer to fritter away the rest of the day. 
Dinnertime found Mika snuggled in Mike's womb chair, idly rolling a
small rubber ball back and forth, one of those twenty-five cent jobs
you buy from the little hopper outside supermarkets. She'd worn
herself out bouncing it across the floor and chasing after it,
crawling under chairs and into corners to retrieve it. Mike nuked a
Hungry Man TV dinner of Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes, stuck a
Mad Max DVD in the player and settled on the sofa with a beer. He
seldom drank more than one unless he was watching an action flick. He
missed getting shit-faced drunk with his buddies like back in his
college days, but what was the point of drinking if you couldn't
round up your friends and raise hell? Or pick up a girl at a party
and keep refilling her gay-ass wine cooler till she was tipsy enough
to sneak off to a bedroom. He missed that, too: crazy, sloppy drunken
sex. Well, any sex for that matter. He finished off the can of Miller
and stared gloomily into his potatoes. What t!
he hell, he thought, and popped open another. It wasn't until Mel
Gibson was kicking ass well into the chase scene that he realized
he'd finished the six pack. 'Shit,' he said to himself in surprise.
Six wasn't a lot, but he hadn't had more than a couple in a row
since....shit, how long? He tried to think, staring blankly at the
widescreen. 
He snapped out of it when he felt a tug on the leg of his pants. It
was Mika. She scrambled up his trousers and perched on his knee. He
absentmindedly petted her soft purple hair and reached for another
bite of... hey- how the hell did she do that? He judged the distance
from the floor to be some two feet, and Mika was only 4 and a half
inches....wasn't she? Maybe he had measured wrong- she looked bigger
than that. His blurry brain thought back. Yeah, she shouldn't be- she
couldn't be...big enough to be blocking his view of the screen like
that. But she was. 
He lifted her onto the coffee table next to the plastic tray of food
(she felt heavier. It wasn't possible.) and he headed back to the
kitchen for the ruler and another beer. She stood up when she saw the
ruler and held herself straight against it. Six and a half inches.
She was two inches taller. And she knew it. She was beaming smugly,
proud of her growth. Mike took a deep breath. How could she be
growing so fast? Was there something wrong with her? Maybe she was...
defective. She was only a product, after all. But she no longer
seemed that way to him. She hopped from the coffee table onto his lap
and smiled at him, eyes shinning. 
Was she a toy or a woman? He couldn't decide. He slowly looked her
over. A live anime babe. Unbelievable. Eyes like supershiny blue
saucers, big bouncy tits that moved like flesh just doesn't move,
purple hair, purple pubes.... It wasn't until Mika shifted and gave a
little cry of surprise that he realized he was getting hard. 
Christ he thought drunkenly. Jesus fucking Christ. She was so
beautiful. He cracked another can of Miller and took a long drink,
watching her. She shifted on his stiffening crotch, and, as if
sensing his arousal, began to rock slowly back and forth, her big
breasts, now bigger, move as she breathed heavily. Before he knew it
the can was empty. He tossed it over his shoulder. 'Meeeeekaaaaa,'
she purred, rubbing herself against his crotch. She was getting more
and more turned on; her hands strayed to her breasts, cupping,
squeezing, licking her fingers to rub her stiffening nipples. Mike
ran a finger down her back and she arched her back, thrusting out her
chest. His finger grazed her ass and she moaned, not like some
plaything pixie: like a woman. 
She pushed her breasts against his finger. 'Mikaaaaa,' she said in a
thick, throaty voice. He rubbed himself through his jeans. His
throbbing hard-on felt strained against his pants. Mike was drunk and
he knew it, but he couldn't help himself; he unzipped his pants and
freed his aching cock. Mika gasped and stopped moving. Her little jaw
dropped. Ever curious, she crept closer and reached out. The contact
of her tiny, moist fingers made his penis lurch. It twitched when she
ran her hand along it. Mika was transfixed, fascinated. She had
obviously never seen one before, but her body responded without
needing her understanding. She wrapped her arms around it, her hands
just barely meeting, pulled forward as it rose to its full height,
bigger than she was. She strained to reach the head, where a pearl of
pre-cum quivered. A groan escaped Mike as she ran her little hands
from the bottom to the furthest she could reach, and he could not
resist picking her up and holding her eager!
 groping hands against the head. She licked the bead of fluid. Just a
drop, but it spilled down her chin. She thrust her whole body up
against it and began humping his dick. It parted her breasts and
bobbed up and down as she first rubbed, then slammed her tiny pelvis
against it. 'Mi- Mi- Mi- KA!!' she gasped and all of a sudden he
surged past the point of no return and he was moving his hips as she
bucked up against his hard dick, riding it as he groaned, straining
towards release. 
He came. He surged over her back, on her face, against her breasts as
she brought them up to meet his spurts. He came until his balls ached
and Mika's continuous caresses became so intensely pleasurable it
hurt, badly, and he trembled. She was still going; her hands sought
out the patch of purple between her legs, working franticly, her
breasts swinging crazily. Mike caught hold of her and brought her up
against his mouth. He licked the wetness from between her little
legs, ass to stomach, and the taste was unbearably candy-sweet. She
screamed. He licked. He licked and she came in a gush of sugar juice,
shrieking and thrashing, her entire pelvis sucked tight in Mike's
mouth. Shuddering, she went limp. They both lay, panting, sticky,
dizzy. Mike was beginning to sink into a sodden drunken fog. He was
going to pass out any minute. The tiny purple-haired girl swam in his
vision, now two, now three. 'Mika,' he moaned and he was gone. 


Plaything 
Part III 

(Mike, a young and wealthy investor and product tester for a Japanese
toy company, has been given a prototype for a new product based on
their successful Tomogachi, a tiny anime-modeled woman with giant
eyes, stylized features and purple hair who 'hatches' from a
synthetic egg. She lives on synthetic food- brightly colored pellets-
and has a vocabulary of a single word: Mika. Under his care, 'Mika'
surprises and unnerves him by growing, over the course of several
days from 3.8 to 6.5 inches. In spite of her limited size and
vocabulary, Mike discovers that Mika is not only cognizant but
temperamental and sexual.) 


The radio signal buzzed and faded as Mike drove home from the mall
along the coast, thinking about Mika. He had been certain that Mika
was through growing, but by the end of the week she stood three foot
three. Obviously she was too big to fit into the glass terrarium
anymore, but Mike didn't like the idea of sleeping alongside a
midget-sized nonhuman as though she was a woman, nor was he
comfortable having her sleep at the foot of his bed like a dog. In
his mind she stood somewhere between sexual partner and pet, fitting
neither category, and he ended up making arrangements for her on the
sofa. She preferred to sleep curled up, and would arrange the
cushions into something of a nest around her. She still roused him
regularly from sleep, in need of food or some other attention. Mike
was still wary about giving her free access to the package of colored
pellets, which was by now almost half empty (the white ones were, as
yet, untouched), worried that she might eat herself sick!
. Growing up, he'd found caring for the family's two cats easy, as
they ate only what they needed from their dish, but knew that even
the smartest of dogs didn't behave that way after his border collie
puppy, Jasper, ate an unattended Sunday ham down to the bone and
ended up sleeping it off three feet underground in the backyard the
next day. He wasn't sure exactly how much control Mika had over her
appetite and so, though it meant feeding her at odd hours and
intervals at her demand, Mike kept Mika's food supply well out of her
reach in a locked liquor cabinet. 





Mika's sexual appetite posed another problem. Once she'd shot from
six and a half inches to almost two feet in a series of erratic
spurts which left Mike dazed, Mike was able to pleasure her with a
fingertip, rubbing between her legs at an almost nonexistent
clitoris. Penetration was impossible, even with a pinkie, but Mika
would spasm with pleasure when Mike ran his fingertip along the
length of her miniscule vaginal slit, eliciting little rushes of
sugary fluid. At this size she was better able to reciprocate, too,
by clutching and caressing his penis in doll hands and licking with
her pretty pink (and, sweet jesus, agile) tongue. Her playful little
adoring kissy-kisses along its length and especially at the swollen
tip made him almost pray for her to grow more, so that he could fit
his member into her eager mouth. Funny, he sometimes thought, but she
seemed most excited not when he ejaculated, but when his dick
expanded, rose and swelled at the ministrations of her cunnin!
g little hands. 

After her most recent growth spurt, Mike found he was able, with much
struggle on both ends, worm a finger inside Mika's clutching pussy
and get herd off sure as pulling a trigger. The first time it slipped
between her slick inner lips, Mika had split his skull with a shriek
of 'Miiiiiiiiiiikaaaaaaa!!!!' and come before he could thing to move
it around inside her. The next day found her just a couple of inches
bigger, and her cute little cunt a fraction bigger. Enough, at least,
for Mike to carefully explore her pink insides with a gentle finger,
which her body squeezed in waves of delight. Now, when she wasn't
busy playing, eating, swimming in the bathtub or masturbating, she
was forever demanding a handjob, pointing at the purple-plush
triangle of her pubis and saying 'Miiika...' in a tone both coy and
commanding. Lately, Mike was beginning to tire of constantly service
her, and he'd been forced to alternate hands to prevent his right
index finger from wearing out. Her sex!
ual appetite seemed to be increasing along with her height, and every
time he was sure she had leveled off, she grew another inch, even
two, under his very eyes. She was a living wet dream, sure, but sex
play with a three foot two girl made him feel a little like a
pedophile, though her dangerous curves and hefty breasts showed she
was every inch a woman. Then again, if she grew to be life sized....?
He would often glance at her and imagine the ubervixen she would be
at about five and a half feet- fuckable size- and hope that her
growth pattern kept up. Mika, for her part, seemed to have no
intention of stopping anytime soon. 

When she'd measured in at three foot three, she had snatched the
measuring tape from Mike's hands and read the numbers herself. While
she couldn't read, and still spoke only one discernable word, Mika
had easily grasped the concept of numbers (and, to Mike's annoyance,
symbols: she had taken to scribbling hearts, stars and cutesy
critters on walls and paper alike). Reading her height at 129 inches,
she held her head high, grinned like the cat that swallowed the
canary, and shook her perfectly round little ass in a little dance of
joy. That was another new habit of hers: dancing. Having free reign
of the house, she'd been dicking around on Mike's sound system and
managed to tune into a station that played 'nonstop J-pop' and she
never tired of shaking her tight, bouncy little butt to those stupid
canned electronic beats backing up high-pitched girlie vocals from
Japanese pop stars that all sounded the damn same to her tormented
caretaker. 

Then there was the problem of clothing her. When Mika had stood less
than two feet tall, Mike began to feel there was something indecent
about her running around the house naked all day. He made a trip to
Toys R Us looking for something that might fit her, since he had no
intention of learning to sew and she wasn't yet big enough to wear
even baby clothes. He found that the only clothing that came separate
from the doll were Barbie outfits. 'Should have thought of that one
while she still might've fit into them,' he thought, realizing that
only Barbie clothes would conceivable be able to accommodate her
disproportionately large, lush tits and ass. He was forced to pick
out a few dolls slightly larger than Mika, to leave room for her
womanly curves, including a couple of those creepy Cabbage Patch
Kids. At the register he was sure the cashier (and everyone else in
line) shot him a funny look. 'For my niece,' he said apologetically,
but he was sure the girl at the register was!
n't buying it, and he felt like explaining that he wasn't some sort
of retarded weirdo, that he just happened to have a small but growing
synthetic woman who... yeah, right. He had ducked out of the store as
quickly as possible, wishing there was another toy store in the area,
because he had had a sinking feeling that he might have to return for
a bigger doll in the near future. 

Mika was excited with her new clothes. She'd been running through his
manga collection, and clearly wanted to look more like the comic book
girls. The Cabbage Patch Kids' clothes were very tight on her, which
she seemed to like, though Mike later caught her in the act of
cutting them to a more racy fit with a pair of nail scissors. Of
course, there were no fitting underpants to be had, and while she
looked more decent (and human) in her frilly doll dresses, Mike would
often catch a glimpse of her bare ass as she clambered onto
countertops or bounced on his bed and the peek at her naked behind
under a frilly skirt was somehow more sexy (and here he felt a pang
of dirtiness) than seeing her whole nude body. She often pointed to
pictures of young women wearing adult clothes (especially very fancy
and feminine dresses), and indicate with a hopeful 'Mika Mika!' that
she wanted him to get her something more suited for her... age? Mike
was unsure on this issue; she was more clever,!
 and certainly more developed, than a child, but more playful and
giggly than a grown-up woman. He decided she had the approximate
mental age of a sixteen year old, and he was at a loss as to how to
clothe her as such, as she so clearly desired. 

The problem was confounded when Mika had shot past the two foot mark.
She must have been growing all day, but it wasn't until mid-afternoon
that Mike heard an audible rip and saw that Mika's breasts had burst
the seams of her clothing, and her butt was just barely peeking out
from under her ruined blue dress. It was back to all day nudity until
this morning, when Mike had headed out to seek out any children's
clothing at the Kiddie Korner that might suit her, feeling even more
self-conscious as he paid for four kiddie-sized dresses than he had
buying the dolls, especially the package of 'days of the week'
underpants. The clothing he'd chosen was fancy enough for Mika's
taste and mostly made of stretchy material; hopefully, there would be
enough give to accommodate Mika's figure. When she found that a
garment constricted her chest, she would cut out the front just
enough for her high, firm breasts to spill out. Her breasts, which,
even on a body less than two and a half feet !
tall would fit a petite full-grown woman, looked scandalous rearing
naked out of a childish gingham dress. 

The way she ran through clothes, she might as well have been one of
those theater and steak dinner type of women, the manicured ones that
seemed to require some personal quotas of flowers and lobster before
you could get a sniff between their legs. Kid's clothes weren't
cheap, and he'd had to buy all sorts of things to accommodate and
amuse Mika, who'd get into trouble if she wasn't kept busy. She had
ripped open six boxes of cereal and given the kitchen a carpet of
crunch after she'd seen Mike fish a plastic Big Bird out of his bowl
of Honey Nut Cheerios. She'd put a few new holes in the couch with
his cheap but manly 'ninja knife', and dealt herself a nasty cut on
the finger, impressing Mike with her bravery (or was it pride) when
she ground her teeth together and didn't flinch while Mike rinsed it
with iodine. 

After she'd ripped open his collector's edition Star Trek action
figures to play some weird version of tea party with, Mike had
introduced her to a fierce regiment of entertainment activities. He'd
tied a tire swing to the biggest tree in his backyard, gotten the
little vixen hooked on video games and thrilled her ass off with his
anime collection. He wasn't sure if she understood Japanese better
than English or if she just liked watching the exploits of people
stylized just like her, but Mika went gaga for the anime, and she
watched My Neighbor Totoro at least four times a day. Back to back.
She was also extremely physical, so once she outgrew the bathtub he'd
introduced her to his small kidney-shaped swimming pool, wrapped
around the waist securely in a single water wing until he was certain
she would be safe without his supervision. She took to the water like
a seal pup, and, being something of a show-off, taught herself all
kinds of fancy dives and stunts. She was phenom!
enally strong and flexible, and God only knew but those tits probably
had something to do with how she could float so easily. 

Slowly, Mika seeped into every detail of Mike's life, and she
constantly diverted his attention with her needs and sometimes
frivolous demands. Though it irritated and exhausted Mike, deep down
he knew that caring for and cleaning up after Mika had given his
placid and dull life a centerpoint, and he couldn't resent her. For
the first time in his life he was forced to be responsible, when he
had never even been truly responsible for himself. He didn't control
her- Lord, no one could!- but he looked out for her and took sincere
pleasure in her happiness, even if that meant being at her beck and
call twenty four hours a day. As far as marketing her kind, Mike gave
the company the thumbs-down. He couldn't picture anyone else caring
for a.... whatever she was, but the company must have found a
consumer group in Japan, because the people he contacted talked him
into ordering some special exercise and play equipment along with two
bigger bags of those colored pellets she couldn't !
get enough of. He had stopped taking notes on her behavior for the
benefit of Ban Dai Co., but he'd continued to track her height. He'd
even found a weird freehand graph, courtesy of Mika, that she'd drawn
up charting her growth. His first reaction was to be impressed at her
cleverness, but that had given way to mild shock when he saw the
jagged climb of her growth over the last week. Though irregular, it
was a sharp enough incline to ruffle his sense of security in knowing
that she would stop once she reached human height. 

Mike stepped out of the car, trying not to reflect on this last
uncertain fact, and gathered up the bag of new clothes, another bag
of toys, a greasy bucket of chicken for dinner and the rented videos,
mostly more Ranma episodes for Mika. She didn't meet him at the door
or help him with the bags, though that was to be expected, but he
didn't hear her anywhere in the house. That was odd. Whatever Mika
did, she did loudly, and it wasn't until he'd set everything down and
cocked his head that he heard the crunching sound that made his
stomach drop. Goddamn her, she hadn't- 

But she had, and she didn't look very sorry either, even when Mike
stood over her, casting an angry shadow over the purple-haired figure
that carelessly munched handfuls of colored pellets at his feet. He
looked at the locked cabinet. It was still locked, allright, but the
other side had been pried off its hinges with a screwdriver. Giant
candy pills covered the carpet, but most of them had gone inside
Mika, who had the audacity to go on crunching and licking her lips as
she looked up at Mike without a trace of apology in her huge blue
eyes. 'Mika! What the hell do you think you're doing? You're gonna
make yourself sick and anyhow, that shit aint cheap! Well? Are you
even listening?' Mika blinked. Mike reached down to haul Mika to her
feet. And that's when he heard the ripping sound. 

Seams burst open, and her chestless gingham dress split right down
the back, as Mika rose to her feet. And kept rising. For a moment she
looked as shocked as Mike, who stood gaping and rooted to the spot.
Then a sly flicker moved across her face and shone in her sky-colored
eyes. The glint of power, like light off the blade of a knife. A
little smile tugged at her mouth and she didn't move as the minutes
ticked slowly by. Or rather, she only moved upward. Mike's mouth
worked but no sound came out as he watched her grow from waist-high
to level with his heart, and still she kept growing, growing faster
or was it his imagination? Mike was either scared or just plain
shocked- shitless either way. Mika carelessly brushed away the shreds
of fabric that still clung to her very naked body, the breasts
swelling, jutting visibly outward, almost ridiculously big, enough to
be unbearably sexy if Mike hadn't been so blanked out with alarm.
Mika breathed thickly and her body quivered wit!
h the electric thrill of expansion. Her thick purple hair went wild,
the tips brushing, then growing past, her tight, inflating butt. She
looked him in the eye, triumphantly, and suddenly Mike felt very
small, though he still stood almost a head taller than Mika, even
that distance was starting to close. Her impressive figure was
expanding to become intimidatingly statuesque. Her growth rate wasn't
winding down, in fact, it seemed to be increasing, and then in
culminated in a final burst that shot her up five inches taller in
less than a minute and Mika looked down at him, literally. His mouth
formed the word, but no sound came out: 'Mika'. 

And she laughed, loudly, her broad shoulders heaving and her whole
body shaking with mirth, not a cruel laugh, but one of exultation,
and she looked at Mike as one might look at a silly but dear
plaything. Then she gave him a fond embrace, too tightly, she didn't
know her own strength and Mike's jaw was jammed between her big,
yielding breasts, his forehead pressed against her neck. Then she
lifted him bodily off the ground and, for the first time, and with a
teasing smile, kissed him on the mouth. 





Give me feedback! Part five is up in the air and I'd love to hear
your input. 
-Kate 


Plaything Part IIII 

[Mike, a young and wealthy investor and product tester for a Japanese
toy company, has been given a prototype for a new product based on
their successful Tomogachi, a tiny anime-modeled woman with giant
eyes, stylized features and purple hair who 'hatches' from a
synthetic egg. She lives on synthetic food- of the white and colored
pellets provided, she only eats the colored- and has a vocabulary of
a single word: Mika. 'Mika' grows from 3.8' to over six feet by
gorging on her growth food.] 


Mike gritted his teeth as he was put on hold for the sixth time and
the tinny Japanese muzak started up again. He swiveled his office
chair slightly and looked over at Mika, who was watching 'Totoro' for
the millionth time. Mika turned her head at the sound and grinned
naughtily at Mike through the thick curtain of purple bangs that hung
over her face. She cocked an eyebrow. Mike froze, found that the
receiver in his hand had become slick with nervous sweat. When he
failed to respond, Mika held him in her stare for a long,
uncomfortable moment, then sniffed and returned her gaze to the
screen, once more becoming engrossed in the program. She gave a
little trill when her favorite character, a nameless pointy-eared
fluff-thing, appeared again. 
Though now an intimidating six foot something, Mika had retained her
childish mannerisms. She fidgeted as she lay sprawled on the floor,
her upper body shifted back by the mass of her immense breasts, chin
propped on her palm while the fingers of her free hand twirled and
twisted a lock of her thick purple hair. She idly kicked her lower
legs back and forth, slowly raising and lowering one, then the other.
Mike watched the slow, grinding motion of her ass as she carelessly
shifted her legs. He swallowed hard. He prayed she couldn't feel his
eyes on her, traveling up her spine, the shinny mass of trailing
hair, lingering on her breasts. They looked swollen, soft, yet
tightly inflated.... ridiculously big, he thought, returning for a
moment to the professional critic he was. Too big, disproportionate.
And yet? Mike turned onto her right side and those lush breasts
rolled with the motion of her chest like ripe- he turned his head
quickly, but not quickly enough to evade Mika's !
knowing glance. She drew her legs in and slowly rose to her feet. 
Mika stood. Mike gave a small helpless groan. She stood, head cocked
and smiling, stood maybe six and a half feet tall, her hips tilted,
her tiny waist tight and curving upwards to meet those massive,
obscene breasts that rose and fell as she breathed and made Mike's
hands shake, the receiver slipping in a sweaty death grip. He prayed
she wouldn't move. Of course, she moved. Towards him, her breasts
bouncing more than they should have with her light, deliberate step.
She stopped five inches from him, her pubis level with his face. He
could smell her excitement and he felt like prey in the shadow of a
playful tiger. The predator giggled and bent down and kissed his
forehead, her tits softly bumping his neck, her hair falling all
around him like a curtain and for a moment the world was cut off and
there was only Mika, all around him a great terrible toy, Mika, and
then she giggled and stood back, waiting for him to respond. 
'...Hello? Hello, sir?' Mike jerked the receiver back to his ear and
cleared his throat, eyes still locked on Mika's. 'Yes, hello? This is
Mister Kenway. Yes. Yes, I spoke to them already. No, they told me to
talk to you. Yes.' There was a clatter of Japanese in the background
and then Mike was politely asked please to be hold again for one
moment sir. Mika whined impatiently and shifted her weight to her
left foot. Her right hand wandered up again to fidget with her hair.
Don't say it, Mike thought, Don't say it. 'Miiiika?' she cooed.
Damnit! Damn her! Mike shifted uncomfortably in his chair, painfully
aware of the boner that tented his pants and belied his intimidation.
And didn't she know it. 
'Mika,' she said again, and this time there was an edge to her voice.
She had his attention and wanted to play, a little kitten of a sex
goddess though now there was nothing little about her, and both of
them seemed to know that now she'd be getting her way. Not just
because Mike, hell, no man, could resist, but because of her stance,
the way she now drew herself upright and held her head high, way too
high for Mike's comfort. And the strength of her! Mike recalled his
unsuccessful attempt to wrest the remainder of the colored food
pellets away from her, and the nonchalant shove she'd delivered that
had sent him sprawling. Thank God he'd fallen on his ass and not his
head; the girl didn't know her own strength. Even she had seemed
surprised at the ease with which she was able to rebuff him, though
she also looked rather pleased with herself, and had tested the power
of her newly grown arms by lifting Mike's La-Z-Boy with a squeal of
self-satisfied delight and set it down huf!
fing slightly and with a smirk Mike did not like the looks of. 
Now, as she stood impatiently before him, he could still see the bag
of colored pellets stashed next to the TV where she'd been lounging
and knew there was no way to get at them without being blocked,
outrun or worse. She wouldn't hurt him, not deliberately, but...
well, there was something downright unnerving about this big,
imposing schoolgirl of a toy, that made him feel no longer like a
caretaker and more like, as Mika seemed to think, a playmate. No, he
thought, a plaything. That's what I'll be to her if this doesn't stop
right now. 
As if on cue, the spokesman or whoever they'd redirected Mike to now,
suddenly picked up the line and chirped a very courteous good
afternoon, could he please to explain once again the problem he is
experiencing with American prototype. 'Well, she- it's- grown way too
big. I think it's from eating those colored pill things and I can't
figure out how to end the program, and-' Mike took a shaky breath and
tried to speak more slowly and clearly, 'and I need to know how to
make... it stop growing.' Without missing a beat, the spokesman
politely inquired if Mike had still the bag of white pill. 'Yes, it's
still in the cupboard, she never tried eating those for some reason.'
'Well, sir, you have only to feed with white esa instead, colored
pill are esa na ni naru, make plaything grow to desired size. If you
feed too many esa na ni naru and are unhappy with size, stop feeding
and plaything will shut down, yes?' 'Uh, you mean, like the
Tomogachi? Does it, like, stop working or can y!
ou get it going again after it's shut down?' The spokesman chuckled.
'Well, American consumers we find not so good at maintaining pet, but
prototype is Japanese version, cannot be restarted. You think we
should install restart program?' his voice was sharper as he asked.
This was Mike's job, to provide feedback, but he didn't know what to
say, and now Mika was getting impatient, making purry whining noises
and her hand strayed to her crotch while the other stroked Mike's
shoulder urgently. 'Miiika,' she insisted, and he quickly excused
himself and hung up the phone. 
Now what? Mike thought. She was beautiful, he was turned on, she
obviously wanted him, but to be honest he was scared of her, and the
way she was gently but insistently demanding that he satisfy her. And
how could he get those growth pills away from her and get her to eat
the white ones? He turned the problem over in his mind, but could see
no easy solution and Mika's rapid breathing and her hand twining her
sparse purple pubic hair was distracting him. He couldn't think
straight. The hand on his shoulder tightened and she hauled him to
his feet. 
Now he was almost eye to eye with her big buoyant breasts, rising and
falling with her heavy breath. Her hands locked around his waist and
she purred and pulled him close to her- too close, crushing him into
the softness of her chest, and her pelvis nudged and ground against
his stomach. Her body fell into a strange natural rhythm of pulsing
against him, pressing, nuzzling, pulling tight again. His crotch was
swollen, his head trapped, and though the nervousness remained tight
as a twist of wire in his stomach, he couldn't help freeing his hands
from Mika's embrace to touch those awesome tits, firm, bouncy, soft-
his mouth moved to engulf a stiffening nipple and Mika cooed with
delight and pulled his head tight against her breast, mashing his
face into her flesh so that for a moment he struggled to breathe.
Then she began caressing his head, his back, running a nail across
the small of his back and reaching around to graze his throbbing
hard-on through his jeans. Mike's will!
 evaporated and he didn't resist or even think as Mika actually
lifted him and set him down on the big leather couch. She popped five
buttons removing his shirt, and the cheap leashed made tacky
scrunching sounds as she settled down on top of him. As if in a
dream, he saw her hovering over him, felt the slick embrace of her
narrow cunt as she mounted him, and her breasts shifting, then
bouncing wildly as rode his hips down, her hair a frenzy of kinetic
purple shine which she tossed back like a banner as she shrieked with
delight. 
* * * * 
Mike lay naked, dazed and semi-conscious on the sticky sofa. He felt
as drained as if he'd donated six pints of blood. Well, six pints of
semen would be more like it. He watched through half-closed eyes as
Mika cleaned herself like a cat, running her hand across her
glistening thigh and licking her fingers, wipe, lick, repeat. If he'd
had the strength, he might have tried to stop her as she retrieved
the bag of growth pellets and began to munch with all the relish of a
kid eating candy, but what would be the point? And two new bags were
arriving tomorrow! What had he been thinking? It should have been
obvious what was making her grow, but, then, he'd never expected
anything like this. Mika crunched and grinned. It looked to Mike like
she was enjoying his disapproval, defiantly eating away, not out of
hunger, but a stubborn will to increase her size. Why? Wasn't she big
enough already? How could this keep going? 
It couldn't. It couldn't and it wouldn't, Mike decided, and mustering
the remainder of his strength, lifted himself off the sofa and
wandered casually into the kitchen, feeling Mika's suspicious eyes on
him. He shoved spilling boxes of cereal aside, retrieving the bag of
white pellets from the cupboard. He couldn't stop feeding her. He
couldn't kill... shut her down. At least not yet. She isn't human, he
reminded himself. She's a toy, a product. But when he turned, holding
the bag behind his back and met her huge blue eyes, he wavered. Well,
not yet anyway. But the growing had to stop. 
Mike approached Mika, who now slowly and deliberately popping the
pellets into her mouth one by one and chewing them slowly. Taunting
him? Mike felt his jaw clench with anger. She was his, pet, woman,
whatever, and she was defying him. 'I could shut you down,' he told
her. Mika paused, a blue pellet at her lips, then raised her eyebrows
and put it in her mouth. Could she understand? She needed to know who
was in control. God knows, he couldn't toss aside a woman like that,
human or not, but she needed to know that he could. As he stepped
closer, she continued chewing, but pulled the bag closer to her. This
wasn't going to be easy. 
Mike dove for the bag, but Mika leapt aside with the grace of a deer,
considering her size. She grinned, a little smear of blue growth
candy staining her lower lip, and stood three feet from Mike,
offering him the bag. When he stepped forward to take it she snatched
it away, giggling. Again she held it out to him and this time when he
grabbed at it, she held the bag above her head, laughing her giant
ass off as Mike hopped and fumed, trying to reach it. She ran
backwards a few steps, egging him to chase her around the room. It's
just a game to her, Mike thought, and his stomach burned. Trying to
remain calm, he held out a white pellet. Mika looked at the proffered
food and took a couple of cautious steps closer, then swiftly swooped
in and snatched it from his hand, still holding the bag of colored
pellets out of reach. She examined the white one, licked it, then put
it in her mouth. For a moment she furrower her brow, like a wine
taster, then suddenly spit it out with an ac!
cusing 'Mika!' What the hell? Mike licked one of the white pills.
Same super-sweet flavor as the colored ones. Could she tell there was
no growth medium in them? She narrowed her eyes, and Mike beat a
hasty retreat to his room before her look of betrayal grew into a
tantrum. It was time to find some clothes for that girl. 
He'd take her to the mall tomorrow and get some girl's clothes. He
supposed he'd have to hit up the plus-size boutiques and buy some of
those frumpy muumuu type baggy dresses they make for fat chicks, and
some of those bras you could fir your head into. In the meantime, he
dug up a pair of loose jeans, leftover from a really fat period in
his early twenties that had come back into fashion with that baggy
look, and a faded Bauhaus T-shirt. No underpants, of course, and no
bra. Not that she needed one; her tits defied gravity, jutting
straight out like twin torpedoes. And just as dangerous, Mike
thought, as he returned to the living room with the clothes. Let her
finish the bag, he decided. The next shipment wasn't coming in until
tomorrow, and he'd simply withhold them. Then she'd have to eat the
white ones and she'd stop growing. She was already a too big for his
taste, too imposing, too intimidating, and the remainder of the bag
would probably add another couple inches, but!
 he could live with that. She was, after all the sexiest woman (or
womaniod) he'd ever touched, and the cute, naughty smile she greeted
him with when he watched her from the doorway as she munched stirred
something strange and sweet in his heart. 'Mika' she chirped, and
made a kissy noise that was unbearably silly and cute. 
She pointed to the clothes and asked 'Mika?' 'Clothes, baby. We're
gonna go out to get you some real ones tomorrow, but I can't take you
out of here in your birthday suit. And I'm not putting these guys on
you till after those damn things you ate take effect.' He wondered
what he was going to do about that purple hair. The hell with that,
he realized, she doesn't look human. He'd gotten to used to her
outsized eyes, the angles of her face and her teeny nose and mouth
that he'd forgotten that her looks were straight out of anime. Well,
there was nothing he could do about that. People will be staring
anyhow, he figured, and I suppose it could pass as some kinda birth
defect. 
He frowned. Mika had stopped eating but nothing was happening. She
licked her fingers, eyes roving around the room looking slightly
bored. She walked over to the radio, all curves in magnificent motion
as she moved, and flipped on the J-pop. She shook her big, tight body
in a jiggly dance more suited to a teenage princess than the exotic
dancer she looked like, then picked up a green glitter hula hoop and
started it twirling around her ample hips. 
It was a magnificent spectacle. It was also ridiculous. Her purple
hair swished as she gyrated to the music, the hula hoop rolling
around her hips and waist in a strangely erotic display, and she
added a second one, gold glitter, easily accommodating the rotation
of both. She was completely ignoring Mike, having a ball in her own
little world, and Mike watched for a moment more, torn between
laughter and arousal and finally shook his head slowly and slumped
down on the sofa to read Maxim. 
Ten minutes passed with only the squealy pop music and the swish
swish of the hula hoops. Mika had begun to sweat a little; Mike could
catch the faint syrupy smell and hear her soft high-pitched panting.
He zoned in on an articled about Amsterdam weed. Boy, it had been a
while since he'd smoked pot. Might not be a bad idea to get some,
have himself a little party. He wondered if drugs would affect Mika,
then pictured her giggling, red-eyed and munching pellets by the
handful- white ones, thank you very much. You can't beat stoned sex,
he thought. A little miller, a little weed, a little Led Zeppelin...
'MIKA!' Mike looked up in time to see both hula hoops hit the floor. 
Mika was gleefully cupping her breasts as they expanded before her
very eyes from what must have been a double D to something beyond
normal female measure, and the rest of her body growing with them.
Her hair grew down to meet her expanding butt, and her shapely legs
elongated. The hands on her breasts began to squeeze and she rubbed
her still-growing thighs together lasciviously, moaning slightly. Her
eyes were half closed and she arched her back, twisting her hips in a
drunken state of arousal, her head tilted back and a dreamy smile
spread across her face. She caught Mike's eye for a moment as he
watched in fascination and mild horror, then grinned and purred. Her
growth slowed and her body wound down slightly, panting as she pushed
back damp strands of hair from her flushed face. She shivered, then
drew herself up to her full height. Mike stared. 'Mika,' she purred,
heady arousal and pride in her voice, waiting for Mike to admire her.
Mike stared, motionless. 
Mika stretched her long, long limbs, and strutted slowly, moving
catlike from pose to pose as the music shrilled on. She suddenly
lifted her head and squealed 'Mika!' and darted across the room like
a nimble freight train. There was a clatter in the kitchen. What was
she doing? She reemerged with the tape measure, beaming, and held it
out to Mike. Still dazed, Mike stared. She sniffed and turned her
shapely back on him and measured herself, holding the end of the
measure down with her foot, and stretching it up to her head. She
inspected the numbers, then jotted them down on her graph, and held
out the tape measure to Mike, proudly jabbing her finger at the tape
measure: 218? Jesus, she was reading the centimeters. Looking
upside-down at the tape measure, Mike read 86 inches. Seven foot two.
Jesus Christ. 
She stood him up, lifting him by his armpits, and laughed to see that
his head was level with her upper torso. She playfully kissed the top
of his head, then rubbed his hair around teasing 'Mika Mika!' Mike
fumed, irritated at this patronizing petting, and backed off
grumbling while Mika laughed indulgently. 'Ha ha, very funny. OK,
Goliath girl, let's get some clothes on you. The pants, he realized,
would be way too short, so he cut the legs off with the kitchen
scissors. As for the T-shirt, it was a concert T, and pretty big at
that. Bauhaus, he mused. The sacrifice of his shirt seemed to signal
the end of an era. But nevermind that, he had to squeeze Mika's giant
tits into this come hell or high water, he decided. He set to work
ripping the seams at the neck and arm holes to accommodate the girth
of Mika's limbs. Mika, clearly still aroused, crept up behind him and
bent down to lick his ear, nuzzling her head into his shoulder while
her pelvis pressed into his back. 'Aw, c!
'mon Mika, not now,' Mike pleaded. He was exasperated enough as it
was, and he felt more like getting this giant of a girl dressed than
taking advantage of her sweaty nudity. When she understood that she
was getting a new outfit, Mika reluctantly backed off, so great was
her passion for new clothes. 
She cooperated with the dressing, though she was obviously none too
pleased with the masculinity of the outfit, what with her inclination
towards all things fluffy and frilly. But when she was finally
squeezed in and Mike surveyed the work, Mika couldn't have looked
more womanly. 
The thin denim cutoffs were skintight and the waist hung low on her
hips with the faintest shadow of the cleft of her buttocks visible in
a sleazy, sexy kind of way. Similarly, the shirt covered her breasts
alright, but only in the strictest sense of the word. The XL size
that was probably meant to accommodate the greatest of beer guts was
barely sufficient to cover her nipples and the slight crease at the
bottom of her breasts was plainly visible, with the outward thrust of
her breasts somewhat flattened against the material. Her wildly
tousled purple hair added to the racy, monster-truck vixen look, and
Mike mused for a moment that with a leather jacket she'd look like a
biker's wet dream. The instant she moved, though, the effect was
destroyed as she girlishly pranced into Mike's bedroom, humming some
perky theme song, to admire herself in the full-length mirror. He
could hear her cooing and simpering as he headed in to join her when
a louder, more ominous noise made him !
freeze in his tracks. 
The sound of stitches popping came again and Mike bolted into the
bedroom in time to see the seams at the bottoms of Mika's cutoffs
begin to split. Her midriff suddenly became pinched by the waist of
the shorts and the seams tore up the sides of both her elongating and
widening thighs. Mika's pleasure at her new growth spurt was
undermined by her discomfort and the loss of her new outfit. As she
struggled uncomfortably with the waistband of the shorts, her chest
expanded, and her breasts strained against the stretch of the thin,
battered T-shirt, more and more of them becoming visible below the
bottom of the shirt, which finally rode up around her armpits with a
tearing sound, completely exposing her colossal breasts.
'Miiii-kaaa,' she whined with distress and stamped her foot,
struggling to pull the top off. 
If he hadn't been so disturbed by her growth, Mike would have laughed
at her predicament, which served her damn right for eating the
forbidden colored pills, but as it was, he felt only helpless panic
as he watched her head near the ceiling. Should have remembered she
gorged more than once tonight, a thought chimed in the back of his
mind. 'Mikaaaaa!' she wailed, fumbling with the zipper of the
painfully tight jean shorts, and Mike hurried to help her, but her
struggles quickly became pointless as first the shirt and then the
shorts were ripped completely off her enlarging body. 
Mika gasped as her hest sprung free and the shorts fell to the floor
in tatters. Though she was clearly feeling the intoxication of
growth, behind her heavy-lidded eyes was a look of apprehension as
well as triumph. Clearly she hadn't anticipated this, but her heavy
breathing was thick with satisfaction nonetheless. Her head bumped
the ceiling, and she had to angle her neck downwards. For a moment,
the growth stopped, and they both stood frozen, Mike staring straight
up with his jaw open, almost between her long splendid legs, and
gazing up between her heaving, titanic breasts to her flushed face,
which mirrored the suspense in his own. Mika shifted uncomfortably
and hunched down her shoulders and Mike saw her eyes flutter and roll
back and knew an instant before it came again. 
Mika moaned and ground her pelvis, clutching her breast with one hand
with the other braced against the ceiling, now far too low, and sank
to her knees. 'Miiiiii.....' she quavered, and slowly collapsed onto
the grimy plush carpet, her thick hair fanned out around her head,
which twisted from side to side as she gasped and breathlessly tried
to form the only word she knew. Her quivering pink mouth worked
wordlessly and her eyes shone like rain on glass. She stretched out
her arms, and they continued stretching even after she had fully
extended them, and her feet were pushed partway into the mess of
Mike's closet by the growth of her legs. She began to cry out with
pleasure, her hands grasping at the air, and Mike could only freeze
in dismay as what must now have been eleven feet of Mika dragged
herself six feet across the carpet to grasp by the shoulder with one
massive yet delicate hand. 
She pulled him to her, and Mike's head was suddenly crushed between
her massive breasts which continued to swell even as he gasped for
air. Struggling to free his head, his hands grasped her big nipples
and she gave a hoarse gaspy cry, grabbing him tight by the waist and
pulling him towards her face. His head momentarily freed, Mike found
his mouth locked to the trembling lips of the now Massive Mika, whose
tongue licked his entire mouth. She was shaking now, almost
violently, and the thick, sweet animal smell of her arousal was
overpowering. Mike's mind was lost as he tried to ride the soft,
trembling storm of flesh that clutched at him from all sides, and his
body responded with both panic and passion. He kissed her slick neck,
biting into the soft flesh, and took one enormous nipple in his
mouth, sucking like an infant on the oversized breast. With shaking
hands, Mika pushed him downward, to the incredibly warm mound where
her thighs met, the purple fur damp with sweat an!
d sweet secretions. Mike obeyed without thinking. He sunk his hands
into a tight chasm of wet velvet, and felt the rhythmic contractions
of Mika's responsive body, spastic suction on his fingers.
'Miii-kaaaa!!' She gave a long, drawn-out wail, and her fingers dug
into the carped as she braced her body under the spasms of shattering
pleasure. First his hands, then his mouth, locked on her swollen
clitoris, and she bucked her hips violently, making Mike fear he'd
loose his grip on her thrashing body until he felt her other hand
clutch his back to hold him in place. The rhythm of her rocking hips
against his pelvis was too much; Mike had to touch himself, to
relieve the unbearable pressure in his crotch, but Mika wouldn't let
him go. She pushed him forward until both his arms were buried inside
her, clamped tightly in her spasming channel. 'Mi... Mii...Miiii...'
she choked and Mike braced himself for her impending orgasm,
'Miiii....Miiii-KAAAAAAAA!!!' she shrieked and Mike's ar!
ms, clamped tightly in place for a terrifying moment, were suddenly 
Mika had stopped growing, but her orgasm was still waning. Had he
been able to think, Mike might have guessed her height to be over
eleven and a half feet. As it was, no such thought came to him, only
a dull desire to be engulfed by his love creature, Mika, who called
to him silently with outstretched arms. He crawled into her embrace,
and she sank away softly into oblivion with his head nestled against
her colossal chest. Sticky and spent, Mike rested his spinning head
against her. As he drifted off he could distantly hear the beating of
her enormous heart. 

* * * 
Plaything V 

Mike stood outside The Zebra Club in a light sprinkle that promised
more to come. He saw his reflection in the mirrored glass and saw the
shoulders of his trenchcoat dampening and tasted the margharita that
had gotten him this far. He hunched and shivered with chill and a
faint flavor of shame, seeing what a picture of a sad, lonely creep
he looked like, then abruptly turned away when he realized that
anybody inside could see him moping through the other side of the
glass. He set his jaw and pushed through the doors, walking with his
head down so that he jumped when a beefy arm physically halted his
frantic shuffle. He looked up at the bouncer, a perfect carciture in
mirrored shades and tattoos nestled in hairy knots of muscle, and
mumbled a feeble apology as he backed up and fumbled for his wallet.
'Twenty,' the bouncer helpfully commanded, and Mike handed over two
tens and scuttled towards the bar, which was surprisingly empty.
'Shit, I was probably supposed to tip him,' M!
ike thought. Was the place going out of buisness or what? Besides the
two leathery fillipinos smoking skinny cigarettes and shooting pool,
the place was practically vacant. 
The bar was fifteen worn velvet feet away, and Mike relaxed as he
approached it, feeling the liquour stir warmly in his stomach. His
step slowed to a swagger, unconciously walking to the rythm of 'Eye
of the Tiger', which played from four wall-mounted speakers. He slid
onto a stool and shot the bartender a slick grin and a fiver. The
bartender's eyes flicked toward him and she straightened up, a
wel-tanned girl of about 30 whose hair had been abused into a shock
of tinted ramen noodles that spilled from a purple plastic clip. Her
freckled breasts were uplifted by a revealing purple bra, and Mike
could see the faint dappled upper portion of the brownish areolas and
the nubs poking like pencil erasers through the cheap material. He
ordered a Guiness. With every meaty, bitter swallow, Mike felt the
heady rush of anticipation and testosterone swell in his groin, and
although he didn't smoke, he found himself smoothly withdrawing a
pack of Lucky Strikes from inside his jacket and!
 lighting up with a chrome zippo. He exhaled blue smoke and
carelessly flicked a speck of ash into the nearest ashtray, his
movements smooth and effortless as the motion of a tiger. Mike was
feeling sexy. 
The music changed again and the girl finally made her appearance.
Strutting down the lighted catwalk that ran through the middle of the
bar, the girl's exagerated undulations were both absurd and hypnotic:
the swing of her hips, the bobbing breasts, the rolling shift of her
ass as she walked. Five inch plastic heels clicked against the floor,
which was situated at the same level as the bar, so that Mike was a
little below eye level with her hips. She was wearing what might
loosely be termed a bikini, a tiny silver garment with more laces
than coverage. Mike was situated near the brass pole, which she took
her sweet time approaching, then lightly jumped up and clung to it
with first her arms, then her legs, revolving with slow, lewd grace
until, bend backwards, she sunk so low her hair brushed the ground.
She then slid herself up and caught Mike's eye in a well-practiced
smoulder. Hanging on to the bar with one hand, she pulled the free
end of one of the laces on her outfit a!
nd the top came off with a swish. Her breasts were thick and
dense-looking, with smaller nipples than Mike had expected and the
tan lines made them look even more naked. He noticed them stiffen as
the sweat cooled on her skin, and the areolas took on the puckered
texture of the peel of an orange. Mike held up a five dollar bill and
she leaned far enough off the stage, crouched on her knees, to allow
him the privelage of jamming the bill between the slick, heavy
breasts, which she squeezed together with her hands to facilitate the
cash deposit. Turning, she took the bill from her cleavage and tucked
in into her silver thong, then began her routine in earnest, writhing
and stroking herself, even spreading her legs and pulling the thong
to one side to allow a brief glimpse of dark pink. Mike kept his cool
but his hard penis slobbered shamelessly. 
Another girl came clipping down the catwalk, a big, busty blonde with
enormous hair and proportions. She must have been six two but she was
wearing the same kind of platform heels made out of clear vinyl and
gold plastic. She had bad skin and her face was heavily made up, her
breasts far too thick and round to be natural, but the thick sleaze
she exuded spelled sex. He could actually smell her hairspray, sweat
and pussy; it was a hot, bitchy funk, slightly foul but he couldn't
help sniffing for it. This one had the moves. She looked left and
right, scanning the bar and saw Mike. She grinned wickedly. The
blonde began her routine, working her ass in circles and loops until
Mike was almost dizzy watching the muscles ripple under her tight,
tanned skin, as she flipped her mess of dry hair in opposing circles.
All this time she never once looked at Mike, but he couldn't help
feeling that she was doing this for him, making a spectacle of
herself. Mike felt helpless and irritated.!
 It was like she was mocking him, and he wanted to shout for her to
put some clothes on. She knew she was working him up, too, knew he
was mad, and it made her laugh. She ran her hands up her glittery
thighs to her crotch, to her tits, up through her hair, then spun
quickly on her heels so that she was looking directly at Mike as she
held her hair back with one hand and with the other squeezed one
enormous tit, stuck out her tounge (oh Christ, it was pierced.
Disgusting.) and licked her stiff dark nipple. Mike began to sweat
and ground his teeth together. She beckoned to him with long curved
nails. What did she want? For him to climb up onto the catwalk to
her? Mike felt like he was missing an obvious cue to do something.
The blonde laughed, or seemed to, then turned and walked towards the
pole, slowly wobbling her bare ass away. 
A third girl came down the runway, this one an asian. Mike liked
that. The other slobs in the club looked, too. She was small and cute
in spite of her sexy get-up. She ought to play up that innocent look,
Mike thought, but she wasn't; she was decked out, sexy and mean. A
purple vinyl bikini. Fake leather spike-heeled boots. A shiny pink
sneer and a tacky tribal tattoo on her thigh. The other two girls
were making out, kissing and fondling themselves, then one another.
The third girl breezed by them, kissing the air in their direction,
then attacking the brass pole with a polished humping and twirling
routine. 
When the asian babe finished with the pole she approached the other
two. She smacked them both lightly on their sweat-sheened behinds and
they broke their sucking kiss, a string of saliva connecting their
mouths for an instant as they separated. The asian pointed a purple
fingernail at Mike. The tall one nodded and whispered to the first
girl. They stepped one by one off the stage and approached him. 
Mike fumbled for his wallet, realizing what they wanted from him, but
when he shakily held out a fiver, their eyes didn't move from his
face for an instant. They encircled him, still rocking their tight
bodies slightly to the beat. The little asian girl licked her
shimmery lips. The tall blonde gave a quick nod to her companions and
suddenly grabbed Mike's arms and with surprising strength, hauled him
to his feet with both hands pinned behind his back. The other patrons
in the bar seemed not to notice. What was going on? The blonde
whispered in Mike's ear. 'You like us, baby?' Mike nodded and
spluttered. 'See girls, he likes it. The little man wants a big kiss.
Who's going to kiss our manly little man?' The asian girl stepped
forward. With those shoes on she was almost as tall as Mike. She
cocked her head for a moment, appraising him and said, 'he'll do.'
She kissed him on the lips, long and fiercely. Mike's vision swam and
he felt lightheaded. She ground her savage little m!
outh against his and gave a throaty 'mmmmmmgh', then stepped back. It
took Mike a couple of seconds to registed what was wrong. The Asian
babe was now about five inches taller than him. She nudged the first
girl and she stepped up to Mike, kissing him deeply on the mouth,
probing with her tounge. Again, Mike's head went light and dizzy and
he felt a leaden stupefying buzz spread warmly from his head to his
fingers and toes as the girl's tongue jabbed against his teeth. His
head was tilted back more and more sharply until, as she released his
lips at last she stood a foot taller than him. The asian girl
approached him again, but the blonde wanted her turn and twisted his
head back to meet her lips. She grinned wickedly, then pressed her
lips to his and shoved her unyielding breasts against him. She kissed
harder than either of the other girls, sucking until Mike's vision
went to buzzing silver then black. For a moment he felt bodiless,
floating in a world of formless black wi!
th no sense of time, then snapped back in a wave of tingles and naus
The asian girl giggled and dove for him again. Mike panicked and
tried hopelessly to bolt, but the blonde stepped in front of him. She
grabbed him firmly by the crotch, pressing her hand against Mike's
erection in a grip that should have hurt but instead felt supremely
pleasurable, as though his penis were engulfed in sex as thick as
molten gold. His legs went numb, then limp. He spilled forward
against her and now they were passing him around like a limp doll,
kissing and laughing and growing taller every moment (or was he
shrinking?) 
Mike could no longer see the bar, the pool tables and catwalk and
mirrors all faded into misty darkness and obscured by the tremendous
bodies of the dancers who penned him in from all sides, but he could
still hear the oomph oomph oomph of the beat vibrating him from far
away. The Asian girl sucked at his face with a pink glossed mouth the
size of Mike's entire head; as she kissed her mouth expanded until
Mike's face was completely engulfed in her wet, warm mouth and he
struggled helplessly to breathe. She released him (Mike gasped,
choked and sucked in air like a starving man) only to pass him to the
blonde. The blonde must have been... Mike couldn't tell how big she
was. There was nothing to compare her size to except that she was
bigger than the other girls and at least three or four times as big
as Mike, who had lost all sense of his own proportions. The blonde
tossed him like a baby, laughing, and stripped his pants off roughly
as a child would undress a doll. Mike was !
too overwhelmed to struggle but he felt the blood rise to his face
(and elsewhere) with humiliation as she flicked his privates with a
teasing finger, the turned him over like an object and showed him-
exposed him- to the other girls before clamping her outh over his
crotch, her wide mouth sealing against his belly from hip to hip, and
sucked gently. Mike groaned and felt with horror her mouth growing,
his body in her hand rising farther and farther from wherever the
floor was, rising past the heads of the other two girls who clamored
for their turn to use Mike. Mike's body ached with horror and
physical pleasure, shuddered with vertigo and a feeling of an
extended orgasm too intense to bear. 
The blonde released him momentarily and he saw that her mouth was as
big as his entire body, the hand that held him the size of a car. The
blonde beckoned to the other girls. 'Watch this!' and sat down with
Mike's stomach dropping as though riding a broken elevator plunging
to the ground floor. He couldn't make out the floor past her expanse
of belly, to which the blonde now pressed him, rubbing his body like
massage toy over her stomach, shoving his head into her pierced navel
and eliciting a booming giggle from the other girls. Then she used
her free hand to peel off her thong and lowered Mike into the
junction between her massive thighs. The smell of her sex made Mike's
head spin and he wondered beneath the fear and humiliation that
obscured all rational thought, wondered what she was going to do with
him, and underneath that, felt with shame, helplessness and awe that
he had no choice. This sleazy, sexy monolithic goddess possessed him
entirely; in her huge hands he was !
simply a novel sex toy, a plaything of the awesome giantess. She
lowered Mike to her pussy and released her grasp on him. 
Mike immediately collapsed, but she nudged him to his feet with a
finger almost as big as his body. Mike stood between wide tan lines
on her mons, shaved except for a patch of pubic hair which couldn't
have been bigger than a tuft on her, but was as big and thick as a
shrub to him now. Her pubis, so pale compared to the leathery tanned
shin of her belly and thighs, was abraded with razor burn that might
have been negligible to the bar's audience, but now loomed with
irritated stubble, reddened and rough with disturbingly magnified
stubble. A poke in the back with a giant finger broke Mike's
fascinated disorientation, and he was pushed forward, down between
her legs. 
'You know what to do,' she boomed, but Mike didn't. He scrambled to
get his bearings as the giant hand decended over him again, ducking
and cowering. He dove for her clitoris to stave off her grip, to
please her so that she woudn't pick him up again. Her clit was
swollen and erect and at least the size of Mike's entire lower body,
a pink knob twitching and moist, the hood retracted. Mike used both
hands, rubbing in circles the wet, smooth surface, wrapping both arms
around it to squeeze. Her pelvis jerked and spasmed and Mike clung to
her clit to avoid being thrown off her body altogether, a motion
which served only to excite he more. Slippery juice trickled from the
slit between her legs. The asian girl spoke. 
'Jezzy, do it! Stick him in there- no let me!' 'You're not big
enough,' replied the blonde, I'll do it. I was gonna get to it in a
second.' 'Give him to me when you're done, ' the asian answered,
'I'll get bigger and do it if you say he's any good.' Mike trembled.
With sudden realization as the massive hand reached for him, Mike
dove for the blonde's brownish bust ad clung with both hands as her
fingers closed around him and lifted his body. 'Ow!' the giantess
cried and dropped him. 'You little bastard! Let go and cooperate or
you'll be mighty sorry,' and she flicked him with a finger. The blow,
however conservative, knocked Mike over and he lost his grip on her
wet hair. He didn't fight, now, as her hand grasped him carefully and
still more carefully lowered him to her oozing vagina, the lips
swollen, dark and parted, shiny with her secretions. She rubbed
Mike's body up and down the split between her legs, from the crease
of her buttocks to her throbbing clit, then began to!
 bump his head up against her hole. 
Mike was terrified, though a very vocal part of his mind was
fascinated and marveled at this titaness' huge and hugely aroused
genitalia, whose lips parted around his body as she began to feed his
body up into her slit, with Mike fearfull lets he suffocate. He
stuggled wildly, fearing for his life, but the blonde giant gave him
an admonishing squeeze and, with a swiftness that caught Mike off
guart, inserted him entirely into her vagina. 
Mike flailed, engulfed, wet and squeezed in the powerful muscles of
her vast cunt, but slowed as he found that, somehow, he could
breathe. Instinctively he knew that his job was to please the titanic
goddess and he began earnestly working his arms and legs in a
rhythmic flaining motion. As he did so he crawled forward, seeking
the rough spot inside her that would make her come. He could feel her
body rocking and tilting and felt some pressure as she worked her
clit, but he was secure inside her, wrapped in the private warm flesh
of the biggest and most perfect of pussies. Mike thrust his body
against her g-spot with all his strength, eager to increase her
pleasure, to serve her, to please her. Though he was certain she
could not feel it, his erection, so tiny against her giant genitals,
was squeezed tight against his body and coated in juices so slick he
felt he would ejaculate any minute, though both his hands were
otherwise occupied. 
It began with a series of long, slow squeezes, the gigantic orgasm of
a giant woman, and Mike increased his frantic rubbing of her sweet
spot, pushing and leaning into his with all his weight. The pressure
increased and more juices began to soak him. Had he not been so
single-mindedly focused on pleasuring his massive mistress, Mike
might have wondered that he could still breathe, but as it was he
threw himself all the more into working his entire body like a member
inside her, rewarded by the wonderful juices of her wondrous cunt and
the tightening which peaked a series of spasms that squeezed him like
a fist. He could feel the vibrations as she cried out and he was
squeezed like toothpaste from her channel, expelled in a gush of
fluid so that he was halfway out of her body. Swollen walls of flesh
pinned his arms to his sides as his sodden head and shoulders
extruded from the giant blonde's vagina. She moaned, laughed weakly,
and wrapped her fingers around him, pulling him !
free from the still-slurping clench of her body. Mike was swept away
on a wave of satisfaction at having pleased her, and kissed the great
fingers that encircled him with a passion that bordered on worship.
The other girls moved in, grabbing for him and Mike cowered as their
hands closed around him... 
Mike woke up to the sensation of suffocation, flesh hemming in his
head on all sides, and screamed, but his flesh-muffled cry came out
as a bubbling farting sound against- what? Mike flailed and felt
himself grasped and pulled free of... Mika's cleavage! She giggled
and said 'Mika' in a teasing yet apologetic tone, then let him climb
down off her big body. Had she grown overnight? How could she be,
what, eleven feet tall? How had he ended up crammed between her tits?
The memories of the night before came flooding back to Mike and he
groaned as he realized that the naked, purple-haired titanic vixen
who now nuzzled him like a massive kitten just might make his
nightmare come true.