Hell Hath No Fury

Daryl

Daryl woke up with a thundering headache, the kind you get after drinking for three days straight then letting the hangover kick in. Groaning, he rolled on his side, smacking dry lips together and wondering what the fuck he might have eaten that could account for the horrid taste in his mouth.

Cracking his bleary eyes open, he blinked a few times, the acrid smell of smoke in the air stinging his bloodshot peepers. There was something else in the air too, mixed in amidst the smoke, a sickly sweet undertone of something decaying.

The rectangular room was dimly lit by light filtering in under the door at the end of the short hall on one corner. It was warm, uncomfortably so, making him sweat all over. With considerable effort, he pushed himself upright into a seated position, throwing the thin perspiration dampened sheet aside and swinging his legs over the side. Naked? Where were his clothes? He shook his head, squinting about in the gloom, trying to figure out where the hell he was. A bed, a nightstand, a dresser, fine details lost in the shadows, but nothing seemed familiar. A motel room maybe? He chuckled, he never understood the difference between a hotel and a motel.

Scratching his head, he was trying to remember something, anything. He felt like he was in a fugue state, like waking from a dream, wisps of recollection dissipating like fog in the morning sun.

Knuckling his eyes, he wiped the sleep from them, salty sweat trickling down his forehead as he stood up on wobbly legs. His stomach hurt, spasming in a series of cramps that dropped him to one knee. Where the hell did that come from? He frowned. And why was it so goddamn hot? Was there no AC? Maybe that was the difference, cheap ass motels had no air conditioning.

Using the bed as support, he pushed himself back up and ambled across the carpeted floor to the corner near the dresser where there was a floor lamp and a broad set of curtains on the wall. Fumbling in the dark, he found the switch and clicked it, bathing the room in weak yellow light.

The soft glow afforded him the opportunity to evaluate the room. All of the furniture looked like cheap fake wood knock off crap. The carpet was mostly faded red with a lighter step pattern, patches stained darker in a few places. There was a second door in the short hall, this one leading into a bathroom, paint peeling off the trim around the door. There were a couple of dried water stains in the off white ceiling. The closed curtains were a slightly darker red than the carpet.

Moving over to the bathroom, he clicked on the wall switch, the fluorescent light flickering and humming before spilling stark white light over the room. Both sink and tub looked old, stained lime green where years of dripping has fallen from the spigot, knobby taps crusted with corrosion.

He looked at his reflection in the cracked mirror over the sink, edges milked over. “Fuck, I look like shit,” he mumbled, turning his head from side to side. Normally, he spent a tremendous amount of time and effort making sure he looked good, especially for the ladies, but today there was some stubble on his usually clean shaven youthful face, his normally coiffed brown hair was unkempt and his eyes were certainly bloodshot.

Breathing into his hand, he sniffed it to check his breath, making a sour face and turning away from the odor. “Gah, zombie breath” he said.

Twisting the knob to the left of the faucet in the hope of bringing hot water, he was greeted with a loud groaning and banging of pipes from within the walls as a thin stream of rust colored fluid dribbled weakly out of the end of the spigot.

“Ugh,” he noised, wrinkling his nose at the smell accompanying the liquid drooling from the faucet, “That possesses the fragrant aroma of rancid baby shit,” he said dryly, rearing back and quickly shutting off the water tap. He tested the cold water tap and was rewarded with a weak stream of an off colored clear liquid resembling dark urine or weak tea and equally as unpleasant smelling as the material that had come from the other tap.

“Nope,” he said, shutting off the tap and stepping over to the toilet. He started urinating into a stained porcelain bowl devoid of water. Finishing, he shook off and reached for the handle to flush, but the handle just clicked. Lifting the lid off the reservoir tank at the back of the toilet, it was dry.

“Good thing I didn’t need to drop a deuce,” he chuckled, noticing now there was neither toilet paper nor towels or linens of any kind in the bathroom.

Walking back into the other room, he ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to try and comb it and bring some order to his do.

“Where the fuck are my clothes?” he said aloud, scanning the room and not seeing them anywhere, noticing also that there was no phone or TV. Muttering, he moved over to the dresser, pulling open the drawers but finding all of them empty.

He snorted. Walking to the curtains, he pulled them apart, surprised to find plywood covering the entirety of the window behind them instead of a glass. “What the hell?” he asked aloud, putting his hands on the wooden panel to ensure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

What the hell kind of motel doesn’t have a TV, phone, or even a bloody window? There wasn’t even the ever present gift from the Gideons in any of the drawers. He’d spent enough time in motel rooms to know they always came with a bible.

Peeling the sheet away from the generic beige colored utility blanket, he wrapped it around his nakedness like a toga.

Walking over to the door, painted a garish green color, he took the brass colored knob in his right hand. The moment his fingers touched the warm metal, a woman’s face flashed through his mind, like a jolt of electricity, causing him to take a step backward. He knew her. Why the hell couldn’t he remember her name? Wait. Fucking Hayley, that was her name. She was mad and pointing a gun at him.

Women Scorned

Young, great looking, good job, Daryl was no regular player, he fancied himself an all-star at the game of seduction. He loved the ladies, actually what he really loved was the little velvety vice between their thighs. Who they were was really irrelevant and getting to know them was only a means to an end, pussy. He used to joke, hump and dump, move on and lather rinse repeat. They wanted love and he gave them the illusion of such until he grew bored and wanted something fresh.

At twenty eight years of age, he’d lost count of the conquests, figuring it had to be at least a thousand girls. Love them and leave them, fuck them and forget them, his creed.

A creature of vanity, he devoted himself to regular workouts to maintain his tight six pack and well developed torso, not stupid muscly like those steroid monkeys, but rippled and cut like something you would see on a Calvin Klein billboard. That’s where he met Hayley, at the gym. She was not yet twenty and an absolute goddess. While the other meatheads were tripping over themselves to try and get her attention, he played it cool. By the end of the workout, he had her number. She was an aspiring actress from Podunk, Nowhere, currently treading water as a barista at Java Joe’s until her ‘big break’. He told her he knew some people who knew some people and legs parted. What a beautiful girl, tall leggy blonde with the sexiest green eyes ever, you know, the kind you could lose yourself in, and a full sexy set of lips made for sin. Not only did she have an exceptional ass, she was equipped with perfect natural tits, size shape, pert little rosy nipples like pencil erasers. That girl could fuck like an absolute monster, insatiable. No sooner had he dropped a load in her and she was hot to go again. And she was game for just about anything. She was one of his favorites and you would think she was more than enough, but he didn’t want to be tied down to one girl, no matter how lovely, not when you could have three of them.

Hilary was a student at UCLA, studying something or other, didn’t really matter to him. He met her down at the beach in Santa Monica while trolling for pussy. He actually had his eye on one of the other girls she had been with, an absolute dream, but she wasn’t biting, so he settled for Hilary. A few inches shorter than Hayley, Hilary was a brunette, barely, long light brown hair with a wave, blonde highlights streaked through it. Not the hard body Hayley was, but just as fucking hot in her own goddamn right with her large exquisite breasts, shapely hips. What was the saying? Suck the chrome off a trailer hitch? This girl ought to give lessons.

He encountered Julianne at an afternoon Dodgers game out in Chavez Ravine, she was seated in the row in front of him with a couple of her girlfriends. They had won tickets through some radio contest. Applying his charm, like a predator, he separated her from the herd and by the end of the game she had left with him. Redheaded Julianne was a real vixen, living up to the fiery reputation inherent of the trait. Like Hayley, she had green eyes, but like chipped emerald, primitive and feral. Aggressive and uninhibited, she always needed to be on top and the fight for dominance was as much fun as the fucking itself. She always left him scratched and chafed the way the others didn’t.

If could roll all three girl into one woman maybe he wouldn’t stray. Who the hell was he kidding? He was an alley cat always on prowl for a fresh new piece of exciting ass and nothing in the world could or would ever make him change that.

It was almost too easy for him to get pussy, though this current stable of three were amongst the finest of the fillies he had in his trap line in recent years and the pussy was still fresh enough, exciting enough to keep them around longer than usual.

Hayley and Hilary. That’s where he tripped up. The names were too close and he sent the wrong text to the wrong girl. He snorted out loud, stupid rookie blunder. It had almost happened before when he was tooling a Brenna and a Brianne at the same time, though that time he managed it wriggle out of it.

He wasn’t so fortuitous this time. While he was in the shower after an energetic exchange of bodily fluids, Hayley, now suspicious, went through his phone. How she had figured out his passcode, he wasn’t sure, regardless, she did and made the discovery she was one of three. Instead of confronting him then and there, she jotted down names and numbers. He was none the wiser.

A week later, she had called him, told him she wanted a foursome with a couple of her girlfriends. He had been in a couple of threesomes, but never a foursome. How could he possibly refuse? Like a bull in heat, he rushed over to her apartment expecting one of the greatest couplings of his life, only to discover Hayley had contacted Hilary and Julianne and all three were waiting for him.

At first he wondered if maybe there was a possibility they would go for it, but judging from the unimpressed and angry expressions on their faces he doubted it.

Spreading his hands, he smiled, “Fancy meeting all of you here,” he quipped. “Have you all been formally introduced?” he queried calmly.

Hayley nodded. “Over the past week, we’ve all gotten to know each other fairly well,” she said.

Nodding, “Good. So I suppose we should get this off the table up front, but am I to presume there will be no foursome?” he inquired, moving over and dropping himself into the couch, draping an arm along the top of the cushions.

Julianne snorted, “You’ve been playing us all along,” she accused.

“You’re all big girls and each of you got into this with your eyes open,” he chuckled.

“You lied to all of us,” accused Julianne, wild green eyes blazing.

He extended his lower lip and pouted, “My bad,” he said, tone mocking.

“You’re a fucking bastard!” snarled Hilary, walking over and jabbing a finger into his chest.

He rolled his eyes, “I guess this means we can’t all just break up and stay friends?” he jested.

“You can go to Hell,” growled Hayley, menace in her luminous verdant eyes.

“Go to Hell,” repeated Julianne, hawking up spit, puckering her lips and launching at him, hitting him in the chest.

Looking at the trail of spittle drooling down his silk shirt, he swiped his right index finger through the sticky mess before bringing it to his lips and licking his finger clean.

“Pig,” condemned Hilary.

He made an oinking sound and winked at her, before shifting his gaze to each of the others. “Listen, while this has been an absolute blast, are we done here? You know, have you all gotten it out of your systems and we can move on now? I have to find replacements for each of you and daylight is burning,” he explained, shifting his weight forward in the chesterfield.

Hayley shook her head, blonde locks swishing back and forth across her shoulders, “You really are a piece of work,” she said indignantly.

“You should all chalk this up as a valuable learning experience and I know right know, you’re all a little heated, but once you calm down, if you want to be back in the rotation, you all have my number,” he offered, standing up and straightening his shirt, sly smile on the side of his handsome face.

“Of all the arrogant,” scoffed Julianne, beautiful face transforming into an angry mask as words escaped her.

“Temper, temper,” he said, waggling a finger. Crossing the floor, he stood near the hall out of Hayley’s apartment.

The three women exchanged glances. “You’re not going anywhere, except to Hell,” Hayley said, pulling something small and silvery from her pocket.

“Are you kidding me? Is that a gun?” he scoffed, eyes widening.

Beyond the Green Door

What happened after the gun? Had she shot him? There weren’t any bullet holes in him, or blood on the sheet. How had he wound up in the motel room when they were in Hayley’s apartment? Reaching his free hand up, he scratched his head. They couldn’t have Mickey Finned him, he didn’t drink anything. Why couldn’t he remember?

Taking a step forward, he reached out and tentatively patted the rounded door knob, like it might cause another vivid memory flash. There wasn’t. Gripping the knob more securely he twisted it and pulled the door inward.

A rush of heated air gusted in, laden with soot and heavy with the smell of burning wood and the sickly stench of rot, assailing his olfactory senses and making him cover his nose with the crook of his elbow.

It was kind of dark out, like the twilight state of sunset or sun up, he couldn’t tell through the blood colored haze hanging in the sky. The sky reminded him of the time he was in Pasadena and the smoke from wildfires blew in and blotted out the daytime sun.

Stepping out of his room onto the walkway, the force of the wind was fairly strong, flapping partially singed palm fronds in the twenty foot high trees around the motel and fluttering the sheet around him.

The motel was a single story structure, a dozen rooms opening onto an empty parking lot full of cracked and broken asphalt. All of the windows were boarded up. There was an empty fenced in rectangular swimming pool made of cement, across from the lot, a handful of sun chairs scattered around the patio, a couple lying on their sides.

Squinting at the caustic wind, the terrain was hilly, like something inland away from the water near the foothills, but he needed to get out near the road to try and look for any identifying landmarks if he wanted to figure out where he was.

Where the hell am I? Shaking his head, the uneven pavement hot beneath his bare feet as he walked cautiously toward the road near the motel’s dilapidated overhead sign, the bleached Vista View Motel lettering faded and weathered, the red neon vacancy sign flickering on and off.

It was strange. There was no traffic, none. The ever present white noise of commotion was gone, replaced by the howling whine of the wind.

Getting to the two lane highway running passed the motel, he looked right then left. Buildings littered either side of the roadway, a couple of familiar fast food joints, a gas station, some of the buildings showed signs of damage though there were none more than three stories in the immediate vicinity. There were a handful of cars on the road, some overturned, others completely flattened, but all were abandoned, like something out of an apocalyptic end of the world type movie. Very weird. Maybe a wildfire had blown through and the whole area had been hastily evacuated, though that didn’t explain why some vehicles were crushed.

Turning to his left, he squinted into the wind. Frowning, he shook his head and chuckle. What he saw simply could not be. It was impossible. Further up the road, there was a five story building, and what was beside it was what defied reason. There was a person of titan like proportions there. In the obfuscated distance it actually resembled Hayley in the nude, flawless pale skin radiant in the gloom, strands of blonde hair fluttering in the wind. She was down on her knees, bum on her heels next to the building except the structure was the same height as her chin. He guesstimated if she were to stand, she would easily be over a hundred feet tall. Laughing out loud, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

What the fuck? This was completely absurd. She hadn’t seen him, focused instead on something in the building, leaning forward, reaching into it, more like ripping it apart with her massive bare hands.

What kind of delusional madness was this? Mouth agog, he continued to just stand there and stare, watching the surrealistic scene unfold.

Leaning back, the impossibly gigantic woman dragged what appeared to be a tiny squirming figure secured by the foot between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand out of the upper floor or next one down of the partially ruined building and lifted it in front of her face.

From where he stood it was impossible for him to determine the gender of the unfortunate suspended person, but he thought it looked like a dude.

She seemed to be studying the desperate figure, continuing to hold it there before lifting it above her head and tilting her head back. Opening her mouth, she extended her pink tongue released the figure and it fell into her open mouth. Closing her mouth, she brought her head forward again and he could see her swallow, the laryngeal prominence bobbing as the tiny person disappeared inside of her. Smiling, she leaned forward again, hands reaching into the building as if there were others she was hunting for hiding inside.

“What the fuck was that?” he muttered out loud, transfixed by what he had just witnessed. What kind of acid trip am I on? Did she just eat that person? He was obviously alive the way he was trashing about. She just swallowed him, like an oyster.

Taking a couple of steps backward, he could hear other sounds above the shrieking wind as another enormous woman appeared in view from the darkness to his right, arriving at the building and positioning herself down on her knees on the side opposite the woman who looked like Hayley. This one was a redhead and appeared to be a clone of Julianne and like Hayley, she too was completely naked. It was kind of odd to see these two pristine giantesses amid the grime and clutter of the ruined landscape.

He laughed out loud again at the impossibility of what he was seeing. “Talk about some type of Freudian mind fuck,” he chuckled.

The two appeared to working in tandem, and twice more, the blonde pulled out tiny people and swallowed them while the redhead swallowed one and seemed to keep another secured in her hand. The redhead rose back to her full height, easily over a hundred feet, and vanished back into the haze with her tiny captive. The blonde got up off her knees and squatted down, parting her legs. He had an unobstructed view of her smooth privates as she began to urinate, the thick stream spraying into the building.

Finished peeing, the giant twin of Hayley stood up and turned her head, tracing an index finger across her plump lower lip, bright green eyes now turning in his direction.

Hunted

Despite the cloying heat of the ambient air, a chill suddenly ran down Daryl’s spine and he stepped backward. Was she looking at him?

“Get the fuck down you bloody idiot before she sees you,” hissed a man’s voice behind him, the tone of urgency unmistakable.

Daryl glanced quickly in the direction of the speaker, though his eyes quickly returned to the woman. Reaching her hands over her head and interlocking her fingers, she stretched languidly. She was absolutely gorgeous, perfect body.

“If you do not move right now, you will die!” imparted the hidden speaker.

Whether it was the tone or message, Daryl seemed to snap to, eyes now actively looking for the owner of the voice.

A man’s face appeared between two shrub-like bushes situated against the wall near the entrance to the front office of the motel. He appeared to be pretty young, maybe even still a teenager. “Here!” he said, waving an excited hand and beckoning Daryl over.

Moving quickly, Daryl crossed the pavement and slid between the shrubs, the brittle branches covered in dry leaves scratching at his exposed skin. “Who are you?” he asked, positioning himself so he could see Hayley from his concealment and realizing the younger man was naked but covered in ash and grime.

The youth hastily pulled at the sheet Daryl was wearing, trying to remove it. “You have to get rid of this, if the white catches her eye, she’ll come over here and get us,” he said, powder blue eyes round and full of fear.

Daryl thought about raising protest, but the terror in the boy’s eyes frightened him and he allowed the sheet to be drawn away and rolled up in a tight ball.

“Cover yourself in dirt,” instructed the boy, lifting some off the ground and covering the sheet before pressing some against Daryl’s chest.

Nodding mutely, Daryl scooped up some dirt and began smearing his body.

“Stop moving!” the boy abruptly commanded through clenched teeth, eyes staring in the direction of the woman in the distance.

Daryl paused, looking out of his periphery in the same direction. She was intently looking their way, head tilted slightly to the side, eyes scouring the area in and around the motel, smile playing across her pretty mouth.

Suddenly she moved, stepping forward.

“Whatever you do, stay still,” said the boy, grabbing Daryl forcibly by the arm, grip like iron.

It took her no more than a dozen strides to cover the distance from the apartment building to the motel. Dropping to one knee and supporting herself with a hand, she leaned down and looked along the line of doors of the motel.

Daryl could feel the kid trembling through the hand on his arm and found he was holding his own breath. This close to the woman was truly frightening, especially after watching her devour a handful of other people. She was so massive, he doubted he was even as big as one of her little fingers. The ground seemed to shake and there was a low rumbling sound.

“Anything” asked another female voice, dulcet and melodic, but loud. The speaker out of their line of sight. Daryl didn’t recognize her voice.

Leaning back, “I thought I caught a glimmer of something moving over here,” Hayley said, placing her hands on hips and shaking her head slowly. Her leg was so close to the brush, Daryl realized if she shifted it the wrong way when she got up, she would inadvertently crush them against the motel wall.

The leg moved and Hayley stood upright. From his hiding spot, Daryl was looking up the outside of her left thigh. Another feminine foot appeared, similar in dimension to the one attached to Hayley’s leg. Shifting slightly, he tried to look up to see her, but she was too close he couldn’t see passed her smooth round breasts.

“You found some over there?” asked the other woman, extending an arm and pointing toward the five story apartment building.

The was a chuckle, “Several in fact,” Hayley said, moving leisurely back in that direction, followed by the other woman, long dark hair hanging down to the middle of her back swaying from side to side in time with  her very lovely hips as she followed.

“Will you tell me what the hell is going on?” Daryl asked.

The youth shuddered, letting out a breath, “That’s Tamsin, my girlfriend, well my ex-girlfriend,” he said, releasing his death grip from Daryl’s arm.

Rubbing at his tingling arm and trying to coax blood back into the extremity, Daryl said, “The blonde is Hayley, one of my ex-girlfriends,” he said. “There was a redhead near that building earlier and I’m pretty sure it was Julianne,” he added, opening and closing his hand to flex his fingers.

The two women paused near the apartment building a moment before moving off and being swallowed up by the gloom.

The youth turned to Daryl, “We got lucky today,” he said, grin on his grime stained face, then he stood up, picking up a dirty cloth bundle from against the wall Daryl hadn’t realized was there.

Following suit, Daryl also stood up, “I don’t understand,” he said, discovering the lanky youth was actually a few inches taller than his own 6’1”.

“I’ve been here feels like forever, but probably maybe three months, I don’t know. I’ve only ever run into other men our size here, never a normal size woman. All of them are huge, like what you saw,” he explained, looping the rolled cloth bundle over his shoulder and slipping through the branches of the shrub, moving surreptitiously toward the road, eyes intently fixed on the apartment in the distance.

“Well that doesn’t make any sense because yesterday everything was completely normal and now it’s all fucked,” Daryl snorted, still completely befuddled by what was happening.

Halting and turning his head to look at Daryl over his shoulder, the other man said, “I didn’t make the rules here dude, I’m just telling you what I’ve seen is all,” he replied with a chuckle before resuming his walking.

“You say there are more people here, how many other guys here have you met?” Daryl asked, falling in step behind the younger man.

“Don’t know, ten, dozen maybe, come on, you’ll see,” he responded with a shrug.

“Why was she so goddamn big?”

The younger man shrugged.

Daryl shook his head, “I don’t understand. I have absolutely no bloody clue what the hell is going on here,” he blurted back.

“You survive here one day at a time man, if you’re lucky, now come on before it’s all gone,” urged the youth, picking up his pace.

“Before what’s all gone?” Daryl asked, increasing his stride.

The kid chuckled, “You’ll see.”

“Fuck,” Daryl muttered.

Reality Check

By the time they arrived at the apartment building, it had partially collapsed from the damage done to it. The area where Hayley had sprayed was sodden, the odor of urine strong enough to overcome the other smells in the area. There were three other men down on hands and knees when they arrived, dirty plastic bottles in the deeper puddles of Hayley’s piss.

Crouching down, the kid slipped the cloth bundle of his back, quickly unwrapping it and pulling out three large plastic bottles of his own, unscrewing the caps and putting them into a puddle.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Daryl asked, screwing up his face.

“Quickly,” said the kid, pulling out a ragged looking sponge from his hobo tote.

Aghast, Daryl watched as all of the men seemed to be filling their bottles with Hayley’s piss. One of the guys, bottle full, stashed it in amongst his home made bag, nodded and sprinted off in a different direction.

The young man with Daryl, stood up one of his bottles, dropping the sponge into a shallow pool before bringing it over the bottle and wringing it out and draining the fluid into the bottle.

“Are you for real right now?” Daryl asked, watching another one of the men bend forward and drink from one of the puddles. “Hell no!” he said, shaking his head.

The kid laughed.

The drinking man leaned back and wiped his lips before getting to his feet and scurrying off.

The third man who had been there bundles up a couple of gallon jugs and looked over, “New guy?” he asked, getting up to his feet and motioning his head toward Daryl.

The kid nodded.

“New guy? My name is Daryl and maybe you can tell me what the fuck is going on here?” he demanded, an edge in his tone.

The man laughed, “Well, Daryl, here is here and if you don’t take steps to survive, one of giant cunts is going to devour you. That’s what is going on,” he said, pulling his sac over his shoulder. Turning to the kid, “Take it easy Dwight,” he said, grinning.

Daryl looked down at the kid as the youth capped two bottles full of honey colored liquid. Lifting the nearly three quarter full bottle to his lips he took a drink.

Daryl shook his head, frowning as he watched the other man slip away.

“Hey,” said the kid the other man had called Dwight, holding the bottle of piss toward Daryl.

“No way, that’s just fucking gross,” he commented sourly.

“Suit yourself,” Dwight said, screwing the cap on the bottle and setting it with the other on his piece of cloth before rolling it up and tying the ends to make a loop.

“Why would you do that?” Daryl asked, as the kid stood up and pulled the cloth loop over his head.

“What? The pee?”

“Yeah, the pee,” Daryl replied.

“Have you seen what passes for water coming out of the taps?” he asked.

Daryl frowned, remembering the liquid shit like substance that had dribbled out of the faucet.

“Not only is it horrid, it will give you cramps so bad you can’t even walk making it even easier for one of the girls to get you,” Dwight explained.

“So you drink piss? There’s a whole freaking ocean just over the rise,” Daryl said, pointing in the direction he though was west.

Dwight shook his head, “Nope, there’s nothing but barren wasteland in every direction, miles upon miles of empty space with nowhere even to hide. Some try to cross it, but they’re simple prey for the giantesses,” he said, shaking his head. “We should go,” he added, nodding back in the direction of the motel.

“No, I want some answers here kid,” Daryl said firmly.

Dwight laughed, “What answers? I don’t have any more answers than you already have. You move around and try to avoid getting killed. If you’re lucky, you find some food and water and quiet place to sleep. End of story. Now if you want to stand here and get all tough like you’re about something, go ahead. You had a sheet back at the motel, we can go there and get it and you can make your own roll, or you can wait here. Either way, I’m leaving,” he said before starting to walk.

Daryl scowled and shook his head.

Dwight paused, “Oh, and you should be on the hunt for some bottles or something to put your water in,” he said.

“You mean piss?” Daryl countered bitterly starting to follow. “Why don’t you drink your own piss?”

“Only as a last resort, I don’t know, something about filtering piss through your system make your own piss positively wretched, but if there’s nothing else, that’s what you do,” he said without bothering to look back

“That’s fucking gross,” groused Daryl, falling in beside Dwight.

“Go four or five days without water and see how you feel,” he countered.

“What do you do for food then? Eat their shit?” Daryl asked.

Dwight shook his head, “You scavenge, sometimes you’ll find stuff in vending machines or old cans of stuff in houses or stores,” he explained.

“But no bottles water?”

“There seems to be an endless supply of empties but never any water,” the kid answered.

“That’s fucked,” Daryl murmured.

“It’s insidious. It mean we are dependent on the ladies to survive, which means we have to stay close, making us easier to capture,” he said as they walked into the motel parking lot. “Get your sheet, you want to dirty it up as much as possible so that it blends in with the surrounding, otherwise , well, you know,” he said.

“Why don’t we just hide out in the motel?” Daryl asked, slipping in behind the bush to fetch the sheet from his bed.

“You saw what she did to the apartment building?” Dwight asked grinning. “Any one of those girls could ripped this little building apart easy.”

“What about reasoning with them, you know, trying to get some information or something?” Daryl asked, dropping down and smearing dirt all over the sheet in an effort to make it less conspicuous.

“You are welcome to try, though they don’t seemed to be particularly interested in conversation,” Dwight replied, leaning his back against the wall.

“Julianne took one guy away alive,” Daryl countered.

“To play with,” Dwight said ominously.

“Play with? That doesn’t sound particularly good,” Daryl replied.

Dwight shook his head. Seeing Daryl was finished camouflaging his sheet, “We need to press on,” he said.

The Learning Curve

“This place seems a lot like the outskirts of metro LA,” Daryl said, walking behind Dwight as the pair departed the motel.

“Yeah,” Dwight replied, “sort of, I guess.”

“So we saw three of those giant women, how many are there here? Do you know?” Daryl asked.

“I’ve seen six in one place at one time, maybe ten different faces or so. You don’t ever want to see what happens when there are more of them than little men,” he said, shaking his head, “I’ve seen people pulled apart. Nasty.”

Daryl shook his head. “Why are they giant, you know, I don’t understand why they would be that way?” he queried.

“You know as much as I do. I don’t know why they are made to resemble ex-girlfriends. I don’t know why they make sport of hunting us down. The guy that spoke to me where your girlfriend Hayley peed, his name is Edgar, he thinks this is Hell for cheaters, for women we’ve messed over, I don’t know,” Dwight said, shrugging his shoulders.

Daryl nodded, he had in essence been screwing around on Hayley and Julianne, that part made sense. He had also being fucking around on Hilary. Was she here too? They did tell him to go to Hell. Frowning, “Did you fuck Tamsin over?” he inquired.

Dwight nodded, “With her best friend. I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened. We were at a party, I had been drinking, I know, that’s no excuse, but anyway I was talking to this other girl Lindsey and one thing lead to another and we wound up upstairs,” he explained shaking his head. “Tamsin walked in on us at the exact wrong moment. She was so mad. Lindsey giggling and swallowing my load didn’t help, Tamsin screamed at me and stormed out of the room. I followed her, but, I don’t know, there were some stairs. I think she pushed me, I don’t remember, but when I woke up, I was here. Ed did for me kind of what I’m doing for you,” he explained.

“Did she have a gun or something like that? Anything that flashed?” Daryl asked.

Dwight shook his head, “No, I don’t know, but I definitely did not see a gun,” he answered.

“Hmm, I thought I saw something in Hayley’s hand, a gun maybe, but I can’t recall,” Daryl shared.

“Something else you need to know. Be careful who you trust here. Some guys will try and take your stuff. I’ve heard rumors that there are even gangs closer to the core of the city who capture people and offer them up to the women like a sacrifice, but I don’t know for what, or even if it’s true, I haven’t come across any dudes like that,” he shared.

“If it was true, that might mean the ladies are amenable to negotiate or talk,” Daryl said, grinning off the side of his face.

Dwight shook his head, “I wouldn’t risk getting that close,” he said with a chuckle.

“No, I’m just saying if you get captured, you might be able to talk your way out of it,” Daryl explained.

“Maybe,” Dwight said with a shrug, stopping dead and holding up a hand. Crouching down, he placed his palm on the ground. “Feel that?” he asked without bothering to look at Daryl.

Getting low, Daryl placed his own hand down, feeling a slight vibration coming up from the earth, “Yeah,” he said nodding.

“One of them is close by, we need to hide,” Dwight side, standing back up and wiping his hand on his leg as he looked at the building in the immediate vicinity.

Daryl stood back up, head on a swivel as he tried to see the giant woman.

“Over there, in the service station,” Dwight said, “quickly,” he added, pointing at the building and breaking into a run.

There was a half collapsed canopy over where the pumps were and a small building with all of the windows missing. Ducking in through the door, Dwight circled around and got down behind the counter, Daryl right on his heels.

From their concealment, they could hear the sounds of huge feet approaching intensifying the vibration in the ground to a slight shaking.

Lying down on his side, Daryl was able to peek out, seeing the figure of an enormous woman approaching. Perfectly proportioned she possessed long dark hair with eyes that seemed to glow a vibrant green. A small smile danced across her crimson lips as she surveyed the area. Her massive breasts bounced with the sway of her hips until she stopped.

“Whoa, who is she?” Daryl asked, grinning.

Dwight shook his head and held a finger across his lips.

“She is gorgeous,” Daryl whispered.

“I see you,” she said, voice mellifluous and enticing, like something out of an adolescent fantasy. “It’s okay, you can come out,” she added, almost purring.

“Is she talking to me?” Daryl asked, brows raised, touching a finger to his chest.

Pained expression on his face, Dwight shook his head quickly.

“Come on little one,” she cooed.

Daryl was about to get up when Dwight put a restraining hand on his shoulder, pointing at a figure crawling out from under an overturned pickup truck a short distance away.

Taking a step to get closer, “Good,” she said, crouching down low to inspect the figure of the tiny man.

From his angle, Daryl had an incredible vantage to look at the smooth split in the giant woman’s privates, “Gorgeous pussy,” he murmured.

“Shh,” Dwight noised softly.

The man’s body language suggested he was trying to communicate with the gigantic woman.

Rising back to her full height, the woman towered high over the small man as he continued to gesticulate. Shifting her weight to her right, she lifted her left foot and quickly brought it down over top of the little man, crushing him flat. There was no cry, no scream, or even an attempt to flee. He was just dead.

The impact of her foot coming down caused a tremor strong enough for the two concealed men to feel.

“Fuck me,” breathed Daryl.

Wiping her foot on the ground as one might upon a mat, she removed the greasy pulpy remnants of the unfortunate man and continued on her way.

Sliding out from behind the counter, but still keeping with the service station building, Daryl continued to watch the woman as she walked away. “That guy didn’t even try to move, he just took it. That was brutal,” he whispered. “Why did she stomp on him like that?”

“You put both of us in jeopardy. They have really sensitive hearing and super keen eyesight. You need to be quiet otherwise you’ll end up like that guy,” Dwight snarled.

“Sorry,” Daryl replied half-heartedly. “Why did she do that?”

Dwight chuckled, “Why don’t you go ask her?” he suggested facetiously.

“She seemed open to dialogue,” Daryl said.

“Looks like talking did that guy a bunch of good,” Dwight commented, getting out from behind the counter and slipping out of the gas station through one of the broken windows.

“That guy wasn’t me,” Daryl said, licking his right index finger and smoothing his eyebrow. “I wonder what idiot might have cheated on her, fuck she was insanely hot,” he said, drifting out still facing the direction she had left.

“Over here,” Dwight said, “I found an empty plastic bottle you can use,” he added, holding up a clear plastic container.

“I would have fucked the shit out of her in the real world,” chortled Daryl, walking over to Dwight.

Dwight shook his head, “This is no longer the real world, this is now your only world and if you’re going to act stupid, you can do it by yourself,” he warned.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” he said taking the plastic bottle and examining it. “Should have gotten her to fill it with quim juice,” he sniggered.

“If you’re done, we need to find food,” Dwight said.

Foraging

Daryl felt his stomach gurgle when Dwight mentioned food and he had a serious case of dry mouth. The notion of swigging down a couple of mouthfuls of giant girl piss quieted the rumbling in his gut. He got the impression Dwight was pretty familiar with the area, the confidant way he seemed to know what was just around the corner. During their scrounging, they were able to find one slightly larger than normal unlabeled can and box of flavored crackers.

“Good haul today,” Dwight commented, taking the pair a short distance up a relatively small hill side, though it gave them a decent vantage over a portion of the city. In the distance, at the edge of the gloom, they could see a giant fair haired woman combing through the rubble of a building.

“Fuck, am I starving,” Daryl commented, sitting down beside Dwight, rubbing his hands together. “Please tell me you have a can opener?”

Dwight chuckled, “I have a can opener,” he replied, sloughing off his folded up roll onto the ground beside him. Untying an end, he fished out the small tool.

“Man, if there was saliva in my mouth I would be drooling,” commented the older man. “What do you think it could be?”

Dwight shrug then put the opener on the can, twisting the small butterfly handle, opening it. “Chunky soup,” he said, prying up the lid and folding it back. Lifting it to his mouth, he took some the handed the can to Daryl.

Taking the can in both hands, Daryl greedily drank of the contents, pieces of vegetable and broth spilling down over his cheeks.

“Easy,” cautioned Dwight. “That was a significant score, we might eat like this again for a week or more, so slow down, don’t waste it,” he said, opening the box of crackers and taking out a handful. “That’s funny, finding soup and crackers on the same day,” he chuckled as he munched.

Daryl wiped his face and reached for the crackers.

Another huge woman appeared within their field of view in the distance, this one with dark brown hair that seemed almost black in the haze.

Dwight took out a bottle of ‘water’, uncapping it and taking a drink. “Some?” he asked, offering Daryl the liquid.

“Pass,” he replied, shoveling a handful of the small crackers into his mouth.

“Look, the first giantess found something,” Dwight said, pointing in the distance.

The second giantess approached, embracing the first, then sharing a kiss.

“Are they making out?” Daryl asked, squinting. “They are!” he declared, grinning.

Dwight said nothing, watching silently. The two women were indeed engaged in some intimate play, they were too far away to make out the little figure the two seemed to be sharing and using to enhance their play.

“This is fucking awesome,” Daryl said, nodding.

“Unless you’re the guy they’re using,” Dwight countered.

The spectacle continue for nearly an hour, the woman changing position to pleasure one another individually, then mutually. At the end of their tryst, it looked like they shared a kiss, the tiny man inside their mouths, passed back and forth before one of the women swallowed him. Finished they parted, the area around where they enjoyed themselves left in ruins.

“Fuck, watching that nearly gave me a rod,” Daryl joked, shaking his head.

Dwight pointed, “there’s no telling how others might have been hiding in the building those two flattened in their heat,” he said.

Daryl looked at the devastated area, “Still though, pretty hot. Speaking of hot, why does it seem every one of the pieces of gash we’ve seen so far seems to be a fox?” he asked. “I mean, those two were straight up dimes, both smoking. The freaky green eyed stomper, mega hot. My two and your Tamsin, all fine my friend.”

Dwight shrugged. “Catch more flies with honey maybe,” he answered, “can’t say for sure.”

“Honeys, yeah, that’s good,” he said chuckling and nodding his head.

“There’s another one,” he said, pointing at a large figure emerging from the darkness across from them.

Daryl looked, grin slipping, “Hilary,” he said, recognizing her as her features became more distinct.

“Hilary?” Dwight queried.

“Another one I sort of, well, let’s just say it was a very complicated situation,” he replied.

“Hayley, Hilary, and Julianne,” Dwight said.

“I was with seeing all of them at the same time without any of them knowing about it,” Daryl boast, eyes on the large woman as she knelt down and picked through some untouched buildings.

Dwight shook his head.

“Does it ever get light here or is it like this always?” he asked, looking up at the dark sky overhead.

“It seems kind of strange, like it will stay light, like midday bright for a couple of days and then return to this for like a week. When it’s light out though, I just hide,” he stated.

“There was power in the motel where I came to and I can see street lights and stuff down there now,  but does it ever get full dark?” he asked.

“No, pretty much like this,” he responded. “We’re going to need to address another one of Maslow’s primary needs, namely a place to crash,” he said, retying his roll before rising to his feet and throwing it over his shoulder.

“Uh, looks like Hilary found someone,” Daryl said, pointing at the brunette who appeared to indeed have something in her hands. ”She was very gifted orally, best blowjob I ever had,” Daryl snickered as she sucked the figure from her hand and into her mouth.

“For your sake, let’s hope you don’t get to revisit that talent first hand,” Dwight said, moving down slope between the sparse trees.

“So they like just wander around like that, looking for people?” Daryl asked, following the younger man.

“And we hide,” Dwight answered.

“You know a place where we can crash?”

Dwight nodded, “I’ll show you.”

Three’s a Crowd

The place Dwight was talking about wasn’t too far off, down under a small two lane bridge situated twenty feet or so above where it crossed over a dry riverbed. Circling around and down, Dwight took them to an abutment where they were above to secret themselves. It seemed relatively safe, small enough for them but sturdy enough to take a step from one of the girls from above if need be.

Daryl smirked, it kind of had the lived in feel, like a hobo under an overpass vibe. “I haven’t seen any animals,” he said, getting settled.

“Or birds, or insects, seems like it’s just us and them,” Dwight said, taking off his roll and setting it near the back of the concrete abutment and untying it.

“How long do you usually sleep for?” Daryl asked, setting his own roll down and bunching it up like a pillow.

Dwight shrugged, “No idea, pretty much until I wake up, no way to measure the passage of time here,” he said, pulling out his water bottle and taking a drink.

“Like living up north in Canada or Alaska where it stays light all summer and dark all winter,” Daryl said.

“I guess, but I think that’s only north of the Arctic Circle,” he answered. “Drink?” he offered, holding out the bottle.

“Pass,” Daryl said, despite his growing thirst he was still unable to bring himself to chug down Hayley’s pee.

Dwight laughed and drained the rest of the bottle before capping it back up and stashing it back in his fold. Turning over on his side, he lay his head down on his makeshift tote.

Daryl lay there listening for sounds of the night. There were none. It was eerie. The change in Dwight’s breathing told him when the youth had fallen asleep. He had no clue how long he had been awake, it felt like days, but it might only have been hours. The whole thing was so confusing.

Thinking back on the love session between the two incredibly massive women gave his balls a tingle. He had been in a few threesomes in his time and he always loved watching the girls as they continued to play with each other after he’d come. The kid was asleep and he thought about rubbing one out, but he was tired, actually weary seemed a better adjective to describe how he felt. He wondered if he closed his eyes where he might wake up. Still under the bridge like some misbegotten troll from a fairy tale? The Bates Motel again? Maybe in his own bed. That thought put a smile on his face as he wrapped an arm around his dirty bundled sheet.

Daryl’s sleep was fitful. The thickness hanging in the air, the moments of preternatural quietness disrupted by the rumbling sounds of gigantic feet moving through the remains of the city and the turbulent thoughts churning in his mind kept him awake.

Where was this place? The giantess ex-girlfriends he had seen may have worn familiar faces, but there was no way it could be them. Right? Nothing seemed to make any kind of sense. The whole landscape seemed like something out of a post-apocalyptic stygian nightmare.

There was a rustling from down below, the sounds of something moving over the round dry river stones. Peeking out in the gloom, he spied the silhouette of a figure furtively traversing the creek bed. The figure stumble, scattering stones as it fell.

Daryl shook his head. Funny how in the near absolute silence how cacophonous was the sound, almost deafening.

“Shit,” muttered figure in a male tone, rolling over and sitting up, bent forward and rubbing an ankle.

Daryl looked at the kid and then back at the figure.

The figure rose to standing and hopped a couple of step before collapsing back to the ground. “Sonofabitch,” cursed the figure.

Looking at the kid, Daryl twisted his positon and slid off the abutment, moving down the slope toward the injured figure.

“Who’s there?” hissed the figure, raising an arm and holding what appeared to be some kind of homemade weapon.

“Relax,” Daryl said, moving closer. The man appeared around the same age as Daryl, though covered in grime it was hard to be sure. He had cut a hole in the center of a darkly discolored sheet and wore it like a poncho, cinched at the waist by a strip of like colored cloth.

“Don’t come any closer,” warned the figure, brandishing a ten inch length of sharpened steel with tape wrapped around an end for a handle.

“You can put your prison shank away, I’m just here to help,” he said.

“What’s your name?”

“Daryl. You?” he asked, crouching down at the fringe of stabbing range.

“Farrell,” he replied, lowering the weapon, though still clutching it in his hand. “Turned my bloody ankle on some of those rocks over there,” he said, motioning with his head.

“You know where we are?” Daryl asked.

Farrell laughed, “Hell, that’s where we are,” he answered bitterly, slipping a rolled up carrying sheet from over his shoulder and laying it down beside him. “You been here long?” he asked, setting the blade down and untying one end of the sheet.

“Not sure, a day maybe, who knows?” he replied spreading his hands and shrugging.

Nodding, “Yeah, time is fucked here,” he agreed. “Now listen Daryl, I don’t know you, you don’t know me, but if you help me get back to my place, I can make it worth your while,” he offered, pulling a single can of beer from his roll.

“Is that what I think it is?” Daryl asked, chuckling and grinning.

“It is if what you’re thinking is brew,” he said, extending the can toward Daryl.

Reaching out, Daryl took the aluminum can in his hand and turning it over.

“Go on, you can that one as a sign of good faith. That one is warm, but I’ve got cold ones back at my place. Help me and I’ll give you a sixer,” he said.

Daryl pulled the tab, the hissing sound of gas escaping loud in the channel of the dry creek bed. Bringing it to his lips he drank deeply, draining half the can, the carbonation making his belch. “Goddamn that’s good,” he said, examining the can.

“What do you say? Lend a fellow a hand?” Farrell queried.

“Where did you get this?” Daryl asked, taking another tug, savoring the rich taste.

Farrell laughed, “That one I’ll take to my grave,” he replied.

Finishing the beer, Daryl let out a breath and burped again, crumpling the can in his hand. “Is it far?” he asked, dropping the can to the stones.

“Half hour maybe, back that way,” Farrell said, nodding his head back in the direction he had come.

Daryl looked in the direction then back to the fallen man, “You came that way,” he said.

“I was going to go out looking for some food, but now with my ankle, I think I’ll just hole up for a couple of days and try to heal. No way do I want to be hobbling around out here on a game leg with these women prowling around,” he said.

Daryl nodded. “I’ll help you,” Daryl said.

Farrell nodded and extended his hand, “Man’s only as good as his word here,” he said.

Shaking the proffered hand, Daryl helped the injured man to stand on his good foot.

CTA

Bending down, using Daryl for support, Farrell picked up his roll, knotting the end of it and looping it over his shoulder before draping an arm over Daryl’s shoulder.

Daryl looked up toward the abutment where Dwight was sleeping, but figured he wouldn’t disturb the kid. Coming back with a six pack would be his way of saying thanks for all the lad had done.

Over the uneven terrain progress was slow, taking closer to an hour before, “Here we are,” announced Farrell, pointing at a seemingly innocuous pile of rubble and a couple of smaller battered c-can cargo containers off to the side.

Daryl shook his head, “I don’t get it,” he said, putting his hand on Farrell’s chest to steadying him.

“Look inside, there on the floor,” Farrell said, motioning with his head toward one of the containers.

It was dark inside the c-can, but Daryl could see the outline of what resembled several beer boxes stacked up at the back of the container.

“There’s the brew as promised, I offered a six, mind you,” Farrell said nodding.

“You said cold,” Daryl reminded.

Farrell grinned, “I do have cold ones, don’t get me wrong, you helped me and all and you seem like a likeable enough guy, but I can’t take you to my hideout just in the off chance you’re not what you seem to be,” he admitted. “There are six in there, they’re not cold, but they’re wet and they’re yours, just as we agreed.”

Daryl nodded, in this brutal new reality caution seemed to rule the day. Stepping in container and walking the ten feet to the where the boxes were. Bending down, he started looking for the six pack when a barred grate slammed down and clicked into place covering the entrance.

“What the fuck?” Daryl said, looking back and spreading his hands. It was a trap.

Farrell shook his head, “Sorry brother, it’s every man for himself out here,” he said.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Daryl asked, walking to the bars and grabbing them.

Farrell shrugged and took a couple of steps back, spreading his hands, sly grin on his face, no limp.

“You’re not even hurt?” Daryl inquired, shaking his head and chuckling nervously.

“Nope,” Farrell said, moving a little closer, but still just out of Daryl’s arms reach.

“What are you doing?” Daryl asked, eyes narrowing as he tested the bars. They were solid, unyielding.

“Well, it’s kind of like this, I bring her treats and put them in here and in return she gives me stuff,” he answered, “like beer or food.”

“No, no, dude this is fucked up man. You’re going to just give me to one of those chicks?” Daryl said, wrapping his head around the situation.

Farrell nodded. “Nothing personal,” he said, grinning.

“Open the cage man,” Daryl said tilting his head slightly to the side, tone serious.

“No can do, even if I wanted to,” replied the captor.

“You know what they do to us? Those giant fucking broads?” Daryl said, voice taking on an air of desperation.

Farrell nodded slowly, “Yeah,” he said, “but what can you do? It’s an ‘eat or be eaten’ kind of world out there right now my friend. CTA,” he said.

“CTA?” Daryl said, trying to calm his rising panic.

“Can’t trust anyone,” he replied. “If it’s any kind of consolation, the one that comes to make the swap is pretty damn sexy,” he said, waving the fingers of his left hand and giving out a low whistle. “Blonde hair, big blue eyes, massive cones,” he added, cupping his hand in front of his chest.

“You talked to her? Set this man trap up?”

“Fuck no. Trying to talk to one of them is a death sentence pure and simple,” he replied.

“Then how? How did you get into this arrangement?” Daryl asked.

“I don’t know who originally set up this little trap line here, sort of stumbled into it by accident, well my partner at the time did. He stepped in, I saw the lever and pulled it, clang, bars came down, he was stuck in the cage. I didn’t have a clue how to open it though I think it’s a pressure switch on top of the box but I’m not strong enough to trigger it. Anyway, I’m trying to figure out how to get Fred out this box and I see one of the giant women coming, so I do the smart thing, you know, run and hide. She comes and takes the whole box. There was nothing I could do. She made off with the box and returned a short time later with it, except Fred was gone and the lever had been reset. She also has the other box and inside it is some food and beer and such, and I’m thinking it’s kind of like a reward or trade for Fred. So I test the theory out and lure another fellow into the box, pretty much like I just did with you. He’s locked in good and tight. Like before, I go and hide. The lady shows up, checks the box and same as before, she brings back an empty box and leaves me some goodies. That’s how. I don’t even know her name. It’s a pretty good deal though,” he said, nodding.

“For you! It’s a fucked deal for me. I just tried to help you,” Daryl said, tone leaning toward pleading.

“Sorry,” he said, “Nothing I can do now. I’ll be sure to tip a cold one in your honor though,” he added.

“This is like a goddamn mousetrap,” Daryl said, shaking his head as he circled the interior of the box.

 “It is pretty clever when you think about it,” Farrell said.

“What you’re doing is plain wrong,” Daryl indicted, grabbing hold of the bars.

“Please, if you were in my place you would do the exact same thing,” he said. “The longer you’re here, when your guts are knotted in on themselves and you’re thinking you might eat your own arm, the vaguer that little line between right and wrong gets,” he explained. “Condemn me, revile me, I don’t care. Your sacrifice means I get to eat, I get to drink another day.”

“I hope you get swallowed alive man, I hope you get to feel the agonizing sensation of your skin melting off your flesh as one of the giant cunts turns you into her shit!” Daryl hissed rancorously, spittle flying out of his mouth.

“Don’t know, I could very well check out that way, so could you. But for me at least, it won’t be today,” he said, touching his right index finger to his right temple.

Too Little, Too Late?

Farrell neither saw nor heard the lanky young man creep up behind him. He wasn’t even aware of the youth’s presence until Dwight cracked him in the head with a sturdy length of branch. The blow was significant enough to brain Farrell and render him unconscious.

“Oh man, Dwight you have no idea how glad I am to see you right now,” Daryl said holding the bars and lowering his head, relief bringing him to the verge of tears.

“I don’t know how long we’ve got,” Dwight said, rolling Farrell over onto his stomach and straddling the man’s buttocks. Pulling his tote sheet over, he opened it and removed a half roll of pale silver duct tape. Grabbing Farrell’s arm, he wound the tape around several times securing the man’s wrist. Getting up he repeated the process on the man’s ankles.

“There’s a switch or something on the roof,” Daryl said, urgency in his voice.

Dwight nodded. Using the bars he climbed onto of the containers.

Daryl could hear the footsteps across the roof. There was some banging and crashing as a minute elapsed, then nothing. “Anything?” he asked.

Dwight’s head appeared inverted from above the barred gate, “It looks like a pressure switch mechanism, but it is so stiff I can’t get it to budge. It might be a dual action type device, where I have to press it down and you need to pull the bars up at the same time, but I don’t know,” he explained.

Daryl nodded eagerly, Okay, go back and try that,” he said, getting low and grasping the bars near the bottom. They wouldn’t budge. “Are you pressing it?” he asked.

“Trying to,” Dwight replied, putting all of his weight on the button trying to get it to depress.

Daryl jerked at the bars.

Farrell groaned.

“Is it moving?” Dwight asked, pouncing on the circular switch.

“Nope,” Daryl relied, grunting and breathing heavy.

“I told,” Farrell croaked, “It won’t open.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Daryl growled, heaving at the bars.

“Whoever you are on top of the box, you got a mean swing,” Farrell said, chuckling, his head pounding, ears ringing as he tested the bonds restraining his wrists.

“When do she come?” Daryl asked.

“When she wants. She’s the one calls the shots, not me. I spring the trap, sometimes she shows up within the hour, most times it’s longer, no way to know for sure,” Farrell answered, blinking to try and get his eyes to focus.

“Try again,” Dwight said, driving his knee as hard as he could into the release button.

Daryl grabbed the bars again, but still they would not move. “Nothing,” he said, letting go and sitting on his behind.

Dwight dropped down from the top of the c-can and circled back around front.

Farrell turned his head and grinned up, “You’re just a kid,” he said chuckling. “The way you walloped me, you got to be a baseball player.”

“How do you open it?” Dwight asked, kneeling down on the side of Farrell’s head.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t know, really,” he said, exhaled breath kicking up some dust as his face was pressed into the ground.

“Be careful Dwight, he’s got some kind of a knife in his gear,” Daryl warned, pointing.

Getting up, Dwight flipped Farrell over, frisking the man and finding the crudely fashioned blade. Straddling him, he pressed the sharpened edge against the bound man’s throat, “How?”

“I don’t know how to open it. I tried with Fred, I really did. It’s impossible,” Farrell wheezed, finding it hard to breathe with the big kid sitting on his chest. “If I did know of a way, trust me kid, right now I would it tell you.”

Dwight looked at Daryl, shrugging his shoulders, pressing the blade a little more firmly into the flesh at Farrell’s neck drawing a thin line of crimson.

“Listen, I could help you, you know, maybe with two of us, we could get it to release?” he suggested.

Dwight shook his head, “The moment I cut you free, you’re either gone, or you’ll come at me,” he said.

“No, you remove the tape and I swear I will do everything in my power to help get your friend out, I swear,” Farrell said, eyes flicking down in the direction of the blade.

“Daryl?” Dwight asked, turning his head and looking down at the man under him.

“Right now, I’m willing to try anything to get this thing open,” he said, nervous chuckle in his voice.

From not too far in the distance, they could hear the rumble of footsteps, the ground vibrating ever so slightly beneath them.

“It’s her! She’s be here any second, you got to cut me loose now kid,” pleaded Farrell.

“Wait,” Daryl said, raising his hands, “wait. It’s too late. She’ll be here in moments, you need to run Dwight, you have to get out of here before she spots you,” he urged.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Go, time is up,” Daryl said.

“He’s right, it’s too late for him, but we still got a chance, cut me loose!” Farrell yelled, eyes round as he struggled against the bonds.

“Leave him, you can’t trust him. CTA, isn’t that what you said Farrell?” Daryl said, resignation in his voice. He was stuck, and he knew it.

“Kid! For fuck’s sake help me!” Farrell hollered, imploring Dwight. “Free me, and I’ll tell you where I hide my stash!”

Standing up, Dwight bent down and picked up Farrell’s roll, looping it over his shoulder before knotting his own and crossing it over his other shoulder like a brace of bandoliers.

“Good luck Dwight,” Daryl said, partial smile on his face as he nodded slowly, “look after yourself.”

Dwight turned and nodded back to Daryl, “I hope for your sake its fast,” he said, mournful expression on his youthful face.

“For fuck’s sake get me out of here Dwight!” Farrell screamed, “You can’t just leave me here like this!”

Turning away, Dwight loped out of sight, the sound of crashing feet drew near.

“Hey!” screamed Farrell, “You get back here! You hear me?”

Giantess Pursuit

She appeared, the giant woman, within full sight of Daryl. Farrell hadn’t been lying. She was beautiful, long blonde locks flowing loosely over her pale shoulders and down her back. Big blue eyes bright. Like the other Daryl had seen she was naked, her pale skin clean and unsullied by the desolate environment.

“Don’t worry little one, I hear you,” she said softly, kneeling down next to the cargo container and leaning forward to look down and examine the man with taped wrists and ankle lying on the ground, also spying the other man trapped in the cargo container.

“It’s me!” he yelled frantically, eyes huge and round as she studied him. “Me, Farrell, I’m the one who has been putting people in there for you,” he said, speaking rapidly.

She smiled, a warm expression before raising an eyebrow, her rose colored lips parting to reveal bright white teeth, “I don’t care,” she said softly.

“No, please, wait. Please. There’s another guy here in the area, right now, Dwight is his name. Dwight. He just went that way no more than a minute or so ago,” he said, motioning in the direction of Dwight’s had taken flight.

The huge woman brought her chin up and looked in the indicated direction, eyes narrowing as she searched for any signs of movement but she saw nothing.

“He’s lying,” Daryl said from within his confinement, “there’s no one else here. He’s trying to distract you.”

She chuckled softly, gaze drifting back down, “Then I am to presume this little one here gift wrapped himself for me?” she asked, mirth in her voice as she nudged and prodded Farrell’s form with the end of her long right index finger.

“No,” Daryl said, rising to his feet and clasping the bars, “I did it, and I left him there for you as my gift, then I came in here to await your coming. I have been watching you, admiring you and I knew I would be risking my doom, but I had to meet you,” he said, using every last ounce of charm he could find to try and appeal to her.

“He’s the one who is lying!” Farrell countered vehemently. “I fooled him into going in there but he had a friend who hit me from behind and did this,” he explained. “Otherwise, he would have had me in there with him. Don’t be tricked.”

She chuckled again, “Boys, please, it doesn’t much matter anymore now does it?”

“Would you please do a condemned man the honor of at least sharing your name with him, beautiful?” Daryl asked, smiling up at the enormous woman, plying his charm.

The woman shook her head slightly, as if amused by his temerity, strands of gold hair playing in the breeze. Taking the cargo container in her right hand, she tipped it up so the bars were pointed skyward, causing Daryl to tumble to the opposite end as she placed it on the ground. Pressing the button on the top of the box, the bars fell inward on their hinges into the container. Picking Farrell up by the feet, she put him in the container before taking it in her hand and rising to her feet.

Inside the c-can at the bottom, Daryl pounced on Farrell, throwing a couple of ineffective punches at the taped man’s head.

“Enough,” she cautioned, holding the container in both hands and looking down into it before giving it a bit of a shake. Satisfied the two little combatants in the can were finished, she started to walk.

From his vantage on the ground, Dwight tried to keep his breathing calm despite the fear causing his heart to race. He was so close to them, he could smell the faint fragrance of something light emanating from her skin. The proximity left him feeling very exposed, like at any moment she would detect him smother a big hand down over top of him. He could hear the dialogue exchange as he lay there in anticipation of discovery.

Rolling to his side as quietly as possible, he peeked out from under the edge of the junk pile he had been hiding under, watching her carry off the container with the two other men.

In a hasty decision, he slid out and started running behind the woman, trying to go as fast as he could without sacrificing too much cover in the case she looked back. Each of her leisurely strides quickly created distance between them even as he abandoned the notion of hiding to run at his full speed. Rubble and debris she easily cleared, obstructed his path and widened the gap. He watched in vain as she was swallowed up by the gloom. Sitting astride a piece of broken concrete, strands of metal rebar poking out, he leaned forward, chest heaving from exertion. They were gone. He considered continuing to travel in the same cardinal direction, but knew he would be passing through all sorts of foreign territories rife with hazards all their own. He chuckled softly to himself. What was he doing? Chasing after a giantess? What was his plan of rescue? He didn’t have one. It had been a fool’s errand and he should consider himself fortunate to not be trapped with the other two.

Sitting back, he glanced around his current location, even here, the area was unfamiliar to him. In the distance off to his left, he could see another of the huge woman walking, eyes searching. Sliding back down the broken pile of building materials, he surreptitiously made his way back to the area where Daryl had been trapped in the container.

He harbored no illusion about the fates of either Daryl or Farrell, they belonged to her now and they would not be coming back. Farrell had tried to negotiate the location of a secret stash of supplies and Dwight figured maybe they were in the vicinity, so he decided he would search to see if he might uncover them.

Two Men Enter

Seated in the corner of the container, feet braced against the wall as the huge woman walked, Daryl stared at the other man. “How often did you feed other men to her?” he asked acidly, arms folded across his chest as the giantess walked.

“I don’t know, one a week, one every few weeks, I don’t know for sure, it certainly wasn’t regular kind of thing,” Farrell answered.

“You’re a piece of shit,” Daryl said.

“By this time tomorrow, probably,” he replied, chuckling cynically.

“You deserve this, you deserve whatever it is she is going to do to us,” he stated.

“Judge me however you will, you’re still a noob with absolutely no clue the value of life here, so nice fucking knowing you. I imagine we’ll get a lot closer in a little while when we’re both traveling through her colon,” he said.

“Fuck you,” Daryl spat.

“Listen what’s done is done, so getting all bunged up about it is stupid. If we are to have any chance whatsoever of trying to get out of this, we are going to need to be able to work together. The first thing you can do is get this bloody tape off me, at least give a guy a chance to go out swinging,” he said, rolling onto his side to show Daryl his taped hands.

“Like you did? Locking people in this crate? Gave them a fighting chance did you?” he challenged.

“I didn’t leave them all taped up,” he countered.

“Too bad for you, you should slide right down her hole with minimal effort you fucking hypocrite,” he replied.

Farrell rolled his eyes. “I wonder where she is taking us?” he questioned.

“In a hurry to start your journey through her body are you?”

“Nope, just she’s been walking for a while and I’m curious is all,” he returned.

“Does it matter?”

“It might, I don’t know,” Farrell replied.

Daryl was still angry, still pissed at the bound man. If not for him, he would not be in this current predicament. Was there any hope to try and escape? At least they hadn’t been immediately devoured like he had seen Hayley do, or stomped like that gorgeous brunette had done. Dwight had said some of the girls take live captures to play. As long as he was still drawing breath there was a chance. Grudgingly, he knew freeing Farrell could be off some benefit, even if only as a decoy. Moving closer, “Hold still,” he said, prying at the tape and unwrapping it from around his wrists.

“Thanks,” Farrell said, rubbing at the sticky gummy residue left on his skin before freeing his feet.

“Fuck you,” Daryl replied.

Riding in silence for another quarter hour, the quality of the air changed, going from sooty and thick to fresh and clean and the light filtering in from above went from diffuse to brighter.

“We’re somewhere else,” Farrell said, eyes closed as he inhaled deeply.

Daryl nodded, he noticed it too. Was it good? Or bad? The limited view from the opening at the top of the crate gave him the impression they were now indoors, and she was walking down a hall of some type. It seemed she stopped and passed through a few door before she set the trap to rest. There were three bright lights shining down almost directly overhead.

Suddenly they could hear the sound of water running. Exchanging looks, neither man spoke, both looking back up to the top of the crate. There stayed this way a moment, then they were up again, except this time she tilted the crate onto its side, shaking it. Daryl was nearest the opening and he tumbled down the length of the crate spilling out into the palm of her hand.

Immediately she tipped the crate back up and set it down on what appeared to be a large polished quartz countertop while Daryl was doused beneath the flow of water streaming out of a gold colored faucet.

Trying desperately to catch his breath, she turned him over and about, washing his little body before setting him into a large square glass rectangle he thought resemble an aquarium lined at the bottom with a plush towel.

Next she repeated the process with Farrell, ripping away his crude covering and giving him a good scrub before dumping his clean body into the aquarium and turning off the tap.

Turning her head, she paused to examine the two little men, a wisp of a smile pulling up the corners of her mouth.

To Daryl, they were obviously in some type of bathroom, except it was sized for her and it was like they were super small. Everything was really posh and fancy. Where the hell were they?

Leaving the aquarium on the counter, she moved over to the tiled shower area and turned on the water and then stepped into the generous stall.

Daryl grinned and shook his head. The girl was gorgeous and despite the gravity of the situation, he found he was getting turned on as the girl washed her fit toned body.

“There’s no way out,” Farrell murmured, walking around the inside of the glass box looking for an avenue of escape.

The glass inside the box began to fog from the humidity of the shower.

Wiping the glass with his hand, Daryl created a viewport big enough for him to continue watching the girl as she finished cleaning herself.

Turning off the water, the enormous girl stepped out of the shower, grabbing a huge plush burgundy colored towel to dry herself with. Finish, she dropped the towel to the ground and turned, taking the aquarium in her hands.

Stepping out of the bathroom, the air temperature dropped drastically, puckering the skin of both tiny men.

This room appeared to be an absolutely massive bedroom, very ritzy furniture including a large king sized canopied bed.

Padding across the carpet, she set the aquarium down on the bed and then climbed up onto it, sitting cross legged. “Now let me take a good look at the pair of you,” she said, mirth and amusement in her voice.

Out of the Frying Pan

Watching as her enormous hand reached into the glass aquarium, both men scurried to avoid capture. Pushing Farrell into a corner, she took him by the leg and lifted him up and out, dangling him in front of her face as she studied him.

“Please,” he begged, twisting back and forth.

Nodding to herself, she moved him closer to her face, taking his free leg between her full lips and holding him there. Reaching back into the box, she corralled Daryl and picked him up, bringing him up very much the same way she had with the other man.

Grinning, she took Farrell in her other hand, her eyes still on Daryl, “You are a little cutie aren’t you?” she queried.

Swaying back and forth, Daryl flashed her a smile. “Daryl,” he said.

Looking from one to the other, she settled her eyes on Daryl and she grinned, “You are definitely the prettier of the two,” she commented.

“I never did catch your name,” he said, trying to be charming and trying to get her to engage in conversation.

“I’m smarter, I captured him, please,” pleaded Farrell.

Bringing her hands down over her breasts, she crushed each man against a mountainous globe, rubbing their little bodies across the sensitive tissue around the hardening nipples. Pausing, she brought her hands back up near her mouth, licking first one, then the other before returning them to play with her breasts, using the tiny captive trapped in each palm to tease herself.

The force she was applying and the friction the motion was generating were intense and painful as both men were incapable of doing anything to deter her.

She made a little noise of delight, flicking heads against nipples.

When finally, she pulled them away, each man’s skin looked red. Bringing the hand with Farrell in it up to her mouth, she suddenly lunged forward, mouth opening and capturing the little man in her teeth, an animal type growl coming up from her throat. Daryl could see the other man’s feet protruding from between those thick luscious lips before she sucked them into her mouth and shook her head from side to side. She brought Daryl up and pressed him hard against the front of her throat. He could actually feel her swallow and knew what he was feeling was Farrell sliding by and down into her stomach.

Pulling him back and away, “Now, it’s just the two of us,” she cooed, eyes seductive, “Daryl.”

Swallowing hard, he grinned, a feeble expression that did little to disguise the fear he felt. “What’s your name gorgeous?” he asked, voice high pitched.

“It doesn’t really matter does it Daryl. It never has to you,” she said, winking at him.

Forcing himself to grin, “Of course it matters,” he assured.

“Please,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes but holding the amused expression of her pretty face.

“What do you want of me?” he asked.

“I think I want you down in my sweet little pussy,” she said, raising her brows and playfully sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth and lowering him slowly down toward the juncture of her thighs. “She is so wet and hungry and in need of a treat.”

He watched helplessly as her swollen smooth vagina dominated his field of view. He had always considered himself a quality connoisseur of pussy, but this enormous furrow of heated pink flesh was madness, like some great slippery trench of lust that could and would swallow him whole. The smell of it filled his nostrils, pungent, excited and ravenous. He suddenly became afraid and tried to squirm in her hand. Chuckling, she easily held him firm and pressed him against the dewy lips before sliding him around.

“Stop,” he sputtered, body covered in her thick juice, but she either didn’t hear him or didn’t care, her pace quickening. Then she was feeding him into her body, head first, flesh parting around him as he was pushed. Thrashing, he tried to fight, but it was pointless, now he was completely inside her, fingers jabbing away at him and driving him deeper as he struggled to find a breath. The heat was ferocious, flesh moving all around him. Above him, it felt like there was space. Crawling in that direction through the spongy walls smothering him. There was a slight hollow beneath what he thought might be her cervix. Gasping, he breathed in, drawing her essence into his lungs. Time seemed to meld and blur, he couldn’t tell up from down, but knew somewhere close by Farrell was inside her being digested.

The sounds of her body were loud, blood moving, heart beating. He could feel her arousal levels escalating whether by his efforts within or hers externally. Either way, he knew she was going to come and he was at the moment, trapped in the epicenter of ground zero.

Her body quavered, then quaked. The cervix above him smashed into him, again and again, hammering his tiny body as she climaxed. Trying to turtle, there was nothing he could do, the whole environment was hostile and crushing down around him. Trying to scream, her juices filled his him, choked his lungs. He couldn’t breathe and thought surely he would drown in her come.

After her body ceased convulsing and squeezing him, he felt her contract her muscles, forcing him down through her vagina. Head parting her lips, he coughed, hacking up gobs of viscous clear fluid.

Putting the thumb and forefinger of her right hand to either side of his head, she pulled him free of her cunt, sticky tendrils of vaginal slobber clinging tenaciously to his little body as she brought him back up near her face.

“Wait,” he wheezed, still trying to clear his lungs of her.

Giggling, she lifted him over her head, mouth opened wide, tongue snaking out and flicking at his feet before she released him and he fell into her gaping maw. He didn’t even have time to turn before she opened her throat and swallowed him.

The Dark Passage

The surface inside the dark interior of her stomach was ridged and slimy. The air was stifling, each breath feeling like he was inhaling a caustic cloud into his lungs and making him cough. He could hear what sounded like a person mewling, moaning in pain, but he couldn’t tell if it was male or female, though he suspected it was Farrell. His fingers tingled and felt like they being dipped in boiling water. Closing his hands into to fist, the walls of her stomach contracted, pitching him forward into a mire of fluid. He found the person he thought was Farrell, skin and flesh peeling away as the man groaned. Panic filled Daryl, pushing the partially dissolved man away and trying to move back. The burning sensation in his fingers grew stronger and he tried to wipe them on his chest before closing them into fists again. His eyes stung and he reached up to try and wipe them, to relieve the pain. Her stomach moved again, throwing him back into the mix. Turning he tried to stand up. The sounds of her body were loud, almost deafening. He opened his mouth to scream but digestive enzymes and gastric juices poured into his open mouth attacking the vulnerable flesh inside his mouth and throat, starting the breaking down process. The pain was unbearable, he opened his mouth to try and scream but only weak gurgling sounds came out. His extremities began to come apart, fingers, toes, nose, ears, and his cock were the first things to go. He prayed for the sweet release and oblivion of death, but it was not to be. He could feel everything, every last nerve ending as his skin was breached and her acids assaulted his body. He no longer had voluntary function or control of his limbs, the muscles of her stomach tossing him around and pulling him apart. Why was he still alive? Why could he still feel? He should be dead. The acid ate through his eyelids, melting his eyes. He thought once the flesh was stripped from his body the pain would go, but it only got worse as her system sucked him down into her small intestine, leeching the very marrow from his bones and forcing him through her digestive tract. He was aware of everything although he no longer had flesh to feel or eyes to see, he was aware. Arms gone, torso pulled away, he was nothing more than a skull attacked to a spinal cord, yet he could feel the bacteria swarm over him, stealing every last ounce of nutrition out of what was left of him. Time once more meant nothing, there was only all consuming pain. Somehow, he had a sense of movement, sliding along her digestive tract. Had he voice or lips to fashion the words, he would surely have begged for the sweet release of death. In a moment of epiphany he understood, he was dead. Hayley had shot him and this was Hell.

As if the revelation provided understanding and reprieve, he was free of the giant woman who had consumed him, squeezed out through her anus and left blind and helpless, alone in the darkness, little more than a half dissolved skull with a dozen socketed teeth. Bit by agonizing bit, he could feel his body reconstituting itself from the mass of sludge and waste around him, like a mushroom growing from compost. He felt the vertebrae shaping, rib cage, pelvis, femurs, all slowly taking form, but like raw exposed nerve endings screaming in pain. If he thought bones were bad, his central nervous system redefined his understanding of agony. Organs took shapes, muscles slid back over his skeleton, eyes reforming insides the sockets in his head but it was dark. He found he could move. Sitting up, he sucked fetid air into his lungs and screamed until he gave up, the only sounds coming from him now little more than whimpers or guttural moans.

Still without skin, he tried to stand but fell into the mire of feculent matter surrounding. He could hear the wails and cries of another unfortunate lost somewhere in the distance. He tried to look in that direction, lidless eyes trying to penetrate through the veil of darkness. Nothing. In the distance to his right, he could perceive light, weak and flickering, though no source.

He tried to speak, voice raspy and hoarse from his screaming. “Hello?” he croaked weakly hoping to hear a reply.

There was no response, nothing other than the sound of suffering.

Crawling forward a short distance through the thick waste, he pushed himself toward the light pausing each time pain threatened to overwhelm him. He could actually feel skin forming, stretching over muscles, the coolness providing surcease to the omnipresent burning he experienced all over his body. He remain there, letting it cover him slowly, each passing moment diminishing the agony he felt. Then the pain was gone. He was completely reformed. Unable to contain his feeling of emotion, he wept. Tears of joy sliding down his grimy face. Rearing back, he pushed himself upright, teetering unsteadily on wobbly legs. If only he could make it to the light, he knew it would be okay.

Tentatively he took a step, knee threatening to buckle, but less so with each successive stride he took. Soon he was walking, the waste material growing shallower the closer he approached the light, a circular source situated up in the air. As he came toward it, he encountered a concrete wall, metal rungs embedded in it leading toward the opening, like something one would expect to find in a sewer leading up to a manhole.

Grabbing the rungs, he climbed, pulling himself up. Was he back? Was he in the LA sewer system? He moved faster, pausing near the opening to take a peek before poking his head out.

It was kind of dark out, like the twilight state of sunset or sun up, he couldn’t tell through the blood colored haze hanging in the sky. The sky reminded him of the time he was in Pasadena and the smoke from wildfires blew in and blotted out the daytime sun.