Summary: A wager between Gods tests the love of a man and woman.
Categories: Giantess,
Adult 30-39,
Gentle,
Slow Size Change Characters: None
Growth: Mini GTS (16-30ft)
Shrink: Micro (1 in. to 1/2 in.), Minikin (3 in. to 1 in.)
Size Roles: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: Aphrodite Stories
Chapters: 18
Completed: Yes
Word count: 61582
Read: 167804
Published: December 23 2008
Updated: February 15 2010
Eν οiδα oτι οuδeν οiδα by DX Machina
Author's Notes:
This is not the most super-action-filled chapter, but it sets stuff up. The title of the chapter means "I know one thing: I know nothing."
---
In a cramped office in New York, Bekah Taylors phone rang.
The producer sighed, and grabbed it, going through the early pleasantries of the call. It was a reliable source, one who had pointed out more than a few famous people to wander through the Mayo Clinic. Still, with just twenty minutes until air time, it was a lousy time for a call, and Taylor said so.
Becks, trust me, this is huge. Mega-huge.
What, Brad Pitt, Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie all have the same strain of the clap?
Better.
So whos the patient? Britney? Paris?
No no no, Becks, nobody famous.
Yeah
okay. Look, we dont do news of the weird here. I dont care how big the tumor in the fat ladys gut was.
Look, will you trust me? This is something new. Totally new. A guys shrinking.
Bekah stopped at that. Shrinking?
Shrinking. Hes two feet shorter than he used to be. And it hasnt stopped. He was just through here, but hes on his way back home. Ive got his address.
Bekah drummed her pencil. Isnt shrinking normal? I mean, I remember my grandma shrunk.
Maybe by an inch or two, when youre 80. Bone settles just a little bit, you get shorter. This guy, though hes literally getting smaller every day, and hes pretty young. Everyones baffled, never seen anything like it. Frankly, Im amazed it hasnt got out yet. But when it does, its gonna be huge.
Is there any other hook to it?
You need a hook? Really?
No, admitted Bekah. But I want everything you know about him.
Usual fee? the source asked.
Usual fee.
All right, the woman said. Send it to the PayPal account. Ill send the documentation through presently. We never talked.
* * *
The trip to Minnesota hadnt been a total loss. Stephanie had found a couple nice outfits at the Mall of America.
Otherwise, it had just confirmed what Adam knew: there was nothing that could be done for him.
Oh, the doctors didnt say it; they didnt say much of anything. Theyd poked and prodded, debated whether the HGH was helping or hurting, musing about cell wall thicknesses and the physics of his transformation and whether the fact that his weight was declining slightly less than his overall volume had was important or not. But hed gone to Rochester ten days before, and hed been 4 feet, 11 inches tall.
He was 4 feet flat now.
Stephanie walked into the room. God, she was enormous. Over eight feet tall her breasts stared him in the face when they talked, her head was in the clouds. When she wanted to kiss him now, she kneeled down, like a mom with a kid. And it was appropriate he was the size of a five-year-old now. He drew stares from people when he walked down the street.
Hed stopped driving.
Stephanie had mused a few days ago that they might need to get him a car seat for his own safety.
Shed tried to back it off after she saw his face told him that she only meant that the seat belt hadnt fit him right. That she didnt want anything to happen to him.
And he believed her. At least, he believed that she didnt think she wanted anything to happen to him.
But he also was certain that when they made love and they did, still, she insisted on it he was certain she didnt do so with the abandon she once had. That she was doing so out of a duty to him, out of a belief that she owed him.
He hated that. And yet he loved her so much that it burned in his gut. Even now, as he stared up at her beautiful face, staring through the gap between her (larger there was at least some benefit to all this) breasts, he wanted to grab her, and tell her to come back to bed, and skip the graduation photo shoot she had this afternoon.
But he didnt. Instead, he looked up at her, and said, Hey.
Hey there, she said, kneeling down to his level. Youll be okay while Im gone?
Im a grown-up, Steph. I can handle it.
I know, she said, grinning. But if I cant worry about my husband, who can I worry about?
Were not married yet, Adam said.
We will be, she said. I wont be late. What should I bring back for dinner?
Ill make dinner, Adam said, stubbornly. He hated that hed have to use the stepstool Steph had picked up at IKEA, but he wanted to be useful.
Great! Steph said. Im looking forward to it. But Ill call you on the way home, just in case you decide you want to be lazy. Its okay if you want to be, you know.
No, it isnt, said Adam. Im the homemaker, right? Ill make spaghetti. I think I can handle that.
Steph kissed him on the cheek, and got up. Her gear was already packed; she waved goodbye to her fiancé, worried as she carried the bag to the car. Adam used to always insist on carrying her bag to the car, but hed given up after the wedding last weekend; he just wasnt big enough anymore. The cameras weighed as much as he did.
She was worried. He seemed remote, depressed. It was understandable, of course, but she could tell when they made love, he was tentative. She was holding back a bit too, of course; he weighed only 60 pounds now and she more than doubled his weight. She would hope that if he weighed 350 pounds, hed go easy on her.
But she wanted him to love her with reckless abandon, the way he used to. She knew why he couldnt; part of her wanted to call Julia and tell her that something had come up, go back into the apartment and urge him to come out of his shell.
But she didnt. She started the car and drove off.
* * *
It was a lot of work a lot more work than hed thought it would be.
Every day, he was a little bit smaller. And the spaghetti was still up in the cupboard where hed offloaded it six weeks ago. The faucet was still behind the counter, at a perfectly accessible spot for someone a foot-and-a-half taller than he was. The pot of water was more than twice as heavy as hed expected. Even the jar of pasta sauce was heavy.
But hed done it. The hamburger had been browned, and mixed into the sauce; hed doctored it until it was perfect, even though that had required him literally to climb onto the counter so he could reach the top shelf in the cupboard. Hed made garlic bread, and even had wine chilling. Damn it, he could still be useful.
Hed gotten most everything ready, when there was a knock at the door.
He sighed, and debated whether to get it. He didnt really like dealing with people right now. But the knock repeated, twice, with a bit of urgency to it. Sighing, he walked over and pulled it open, expecting an overzealous, seven-foot-tall girl scout pitching cookies, or perhaps a nine-foot-tall delivery guy.
Instead, he was greeted by someone in between those heights; an eight-foot-tall, youngish brunette, wearing a low-cut blouse that basically caused him to say hello straight into the deep cleavage of what appeared to be E-cup breasts.
Mr. White? the woman inquired.
Yes, thats me, Adam said, feeling a bit of unease.
Hi. My names Rebekah Taylor. Im a producer for the Jayne Jordan show, on the National News Network. Can I come in?
Adams heart sank. Hed known this day would come, but he had hoped it would come after he was dead.
I
I dont think so. My fiancées on her way back were having dinner
I just
I dont think so.
I understand. Youre worried about being paraded around like a freak. Believe me, I want to stress that we want to do this tastefully. Tell your story to the country, let them know how youve borne up under this affliction.
How do you know I have an affliction?
Mr. White, were you always four feet tall? You werent, were you?
Adam sighed. I just
I want my privacy. I want Steph to have her privacy.
Mr. White, Bekah said, smiling a smile that shed used to get the mother of a kidnapped child on the air the night her husband was arrested, I understand. Believe me. But
well, were not the only news organization to get this information, were just the first. And while Im happy to work with you, to do this respectfully
the next guy might not be. But if you let us tell your story exclusively, it will keep the riff-raff out
or at least down to a minimum.
I
Im really not interested, Adam said.
Were willing to compensate you, Bekah said.
Compensate me? How could you possibly compensate for my being the national freak show?
Bekah smiled that smile. With money, of course. I have a check for half a million dollars in my purse. You agree to go on tomorrow, I give you that check now.
Adam looked down. Half a million? he said, at long last.
And thats just the start. Wed like to track this through all the way.
All the way to what? Adam asked.
Hopefully, until youre cured. But Mr. White
Adam
if you cant be cured, at least youll leave a good financial legacy for your fiancée. Dont you want that?
Adam looked back into the dining room. All right. Come in. But Im not signing off until Steph gets home. This decision is as much hers as it is mine.
Of course, said Bekah, sliding past the diminutive man into the small rambler. She knew the interview was as good as set.
* * *
So do you think well get in trouble for this? said Hephaestus.
No, said Aphrodite, smiling, as she turned on the television. This is just the sort of one-off event that already has approval in this reality. You know that the powers-that-be have been talking about taking a more hands-on approach. Besides, eventually the doctors will find out how this happened. Just not for a few centuries.
Well, I hope youre right, said the God of Smiths. As may be, I still think Im going to win the bet.
Well see, the Goddess of Love said. Well see.
* * *
Two minutes to air.
Stephanie shifted in her seat, and looked over at Adam, whose feet dangled off the chair hed been given. We can back out, she said. We still have time.
No, said Adam, quietly. This
money wont be an issue after this. Right? I mean
.
I dont care about the money. You dont have to do this.
No, said Adam, I do. But you dont.
Steph smiled sadly. Im with you every step, Adam. And if you think its important to tell your story, then I support that. But if youre just doing this for the money
.
Im doing it for the right reasons, said Adam, as the producer announced one minute to air. I am. That those reasons were all about the money hed be able to leave her when he died for he expected he would die, sooner than later that he did not say.
The music came up, and the host talked of Adams plight, and they had a long and at times painful interview in which Adam broke down but once, talking about his upcoming wedding, and how he feared he would be less than two feet tall for it. And Stephanie said all the right things, and Jayne Jordan was her usual feisty, personable self, and Adam and Stephanie talked about love, and staying together through it all, and both of them said all the right things that night.
And if each harbored doubts, neither expressed them.
By the end of the night, Adam Whites affliction was being plastered across the entire media spectrum.
And things wouldnt be the same after that.
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