Andrea had never felt nearer to the sky. White cloud wisps drifted above, seemingly in reaching distance. Testing this theory, she reached out a slender arm and curled her elegant fingers through the nearest passing patch of white. Wind generated by the mere opening of her hand scattered them about. It felt like she could snatch up the atmosphere itself in her fist. She giggled curiously, only at that moment taking the time to look down the unassuming earth below.

            The sight which greeted her beautiful dark eyes nearly caused her to topple in shock. Which, incidentally, might have proved devastatingly catastrophic to the planet below. As it happened, she felt she was gazing down at the ground from the window of an airplane; except for the fact that she could still see the length of her feminine form contoured by her white top and skirt, it would’ve been impossible to believe she was standing.

            Yet she was standing. Her bubble-gum-pink flip-flops rested in terrain patch-worked with color and life, like moss on a log, while her long toes wriggled idly on the rubbery insole. Only when she squinted was she fully convinced of what she believed she’d seen on first glance. That this was not a daydream, a waking nightmare, or the result of a chemical hallucination from something slipped in her iced coffee at breakfast. That she was standing on solid ground in her newly three-mile tall body.

            “What the f-” The words caught in her throat in a booming whisper. She could hear her softly uttered words nonetheless echo across the horizon like the seismic crack of the earth’s crust. Instinctively, she threw her hands over her mouth. Her eyes swelled to the size of flying saucers in crippling disbelief and fright.

            But how? The last few minutes of lost time, previously lost in the blackout, crept back into her mind’s eye: A laboratory demonstration by her science teacher. A call for volunteers. Her adventurous spirit spurring her to the front of the room. An explanation of the painless, harmless effect of the micro-pulses of radiation. A quick step inside the chamber. A flash of light, and then sudden dark.

            Andrea felt herself beginning to hyperventilate. Her chest rose and heaved. She knotted her fingers into the strands of her luscious black hair in toe-tingling anxiety unlike any she’d ever experienced in her life.

            It was all far too much to drink in. Mountainous terrain was speckled by hair-sprig trees, no more than a stone’s throw away, and all the combined fields of high hillocks appeared like loping anthills to Andrea. She caught sight of the city within the valley, its mighty skyscrapers now resembling silver-and-glass blades of grass. Most of them were about the size of her finger. At its tallest, the urban sprawl couldn’t have risen much higher than Andrea’s bare ankles. The whole pathetic spread was only a few steps ahead for her, though in reality at least five miles away from the suburbs in which her high school resided.

            Or used to reside, anyway. With a start, Andrea recognized the geometry of the earth below and realized the gritty platform of her flip-flop was now planted in a deep crater formed by her foot, precisely where her school used to stand. The entire school building had been obliterated by the weight of her sole, and with it, every living inhabitant inside, the second her teacher had switched on the device and grown Andrea into a three-mile-tall behemoth.

            Air caught in her lungs. The eighteen-year-old, already befuddled, but now nauseated to discover the mass grave which rested beneath her heel, staggered. The very thought that all her classmates and teachers were now minute red specks amidst the rubble under her unassuming shoe was too much. Her head swam. Out of self-preservation, she pulled her flip-flop out of the cushy earth and kicked in the other direction. She only just managed to catch herself in that single step backward, and in doing so, heard the crunch beneath her sole.

            Understanding spread over her in a cold wave. She’d done it again.

            Brushing her dark bangs out of her eyes, Andrea stooped down as gingerly as she could without shifting her feet again. Sure enough, the last step she took had wiped out multiple acres of forest, plus a fully functioning power station. It crackled and sparked like a crushed firefly beneath the soft treads of the giant girl’s flip-flop. With all the tenderness she could produce, she peeled her footwear from the earth, watching landscape and shrubs come away entrapped in the pink material like cake frosting. The powdered remains of the power plant plunked back to earth in a cloud of dust.

            “Oh my God,” she breathed. She cupped her palms around her lips. “I’m so SORRY!”

            Her bellow rebounded over the hills and canyons far beyond. The sound filled the tiny ankle-high city beyond, surely shattering windows and vibrating foundations in the process. Just as quickly as last time, she covered her mouth again, fearful of what other destruction she might inflict simply by trying to apologize too loudly.

            Down below, entrapped in a set of circumstances so wholly removed from that of the three-mile teenager that they might as well have been in different planets, was Mr. Duncan. A seasoned world history teacher and occasional dabbling chaos theorist when he wasn’t trying to pay the bills, he’d just begun the trip back to the high school from his lunch break when he saw the dust cloud billowing out over top of the little red-brick, mom-and-pop town adjacent to the city. Dirt curled in lengthy tendrils of tornado-strength gales. The sky was obscured. Panicked, Mr. Duncan pulled his car to the side of the road into an alley to avoid being blown over in his meager two-door vehicle.

            As the dust settled, coating all surfaces in soil and leaves, the middle-aged history teacher crept out of his car and squinted into the middle distance. Difficult though it was to keep his eyes open through the swirl of grime, there was no ignoring the object which now filled the skybox beyond.

            Well, “object” was a woefully underserving descriptor, because the structure which currently blotted out the sun and obviously was directly responsible for the quaking of the earth, was absolutely enormous. She was not merely gigantic, but nearly beyond description in terms of size. She. It was then that Mr. Duncan recognized the monumental shape as that of a woman: a young woman, specifically, hardly aged past an adolescent, complete with the soft curves and shimmering dark locks of a certain student he’d come to respect for her kindness and work ethic. The man crumbled to his knees in the ruined street. It couldn’t possibly be her, in that body longer than the entire downtown district, could it?

            Could it actually be Andrea?

Up above, the accidental destructor tied her black hair back in a ponytail to keep fluttering strands out of her eyes. She had to remain focused now if she was going to avoid causing any further mayhem. An entire high school, the surrounding city block, plus hundreds of trees and an entire power plant were mulched beneath the doughy rivets of her flip-flop. Not to mention dozens upon dozens of innocents dead. None of it had been on purpose, and most of it wasn’t even noticed until long after the damage was done.

            She was dangerous at this size, and she knew it. The only question was, what could possibly be done? Her eyes welled involuntarily with overwhelmed tears.

            “HELP!” she boomed, trying to control the volume of her voice which nonetheless flooded the valley again. “Can’t someone please HELP ME?”

            Though vaguely aware of the insect-like cars and trucks on the streets below becoming traffic-jammed around the city as they all attempted to flee in the opposite direction, Andrea noticed something new on the outskirts of the little suburb. A determined, camo-hued battalion of armored ground vehicles and helicopters, none of them much larger than newborn ants. The entire troupe of army implements was rolling through the streets and toward the towering woman who now dwarfed them so comically.

            “Oh, thank God!” Andrea gasped, hand over her heart. It wouldn’t be pretty, explaining how all this had happened, but surely once she was in contact with some tiny authority figure in a flea-sized chopper, this insanity could all be reversed, and she could properly explain how none of it was her fault. They would have to see that, right? She was only a victim of a crazed teacher’s overzealous twisting of physical law.

            The helicopters arced higher and higher toward her torso like a swarm of gnats. Andrea held herself still as a statue, her tanned, olive legs outspread at the same awkward angle at which she’d caught herself to prevent falling upon the forest below. An ovular, shoe-sized crater where she’d originally stood still remained over the flattened remains of her school. The only suggestion of its previous stone shape was molded in the zig-zag shape of her flip-flop treads, weighted down by her pretty if not murderously titanic foot.

            An impressive gathering of tanks and APCs collected in formation nearest the site of Andrea’s destruction. She could spy the moving specks of actual tiny human beings, to her appearing less than a tenth of a centimeter in size, emerging and arranging equipment from their support vehicles. It looked an awful lot like weaponry: machine gun turrets and missile launchers. What possible reason could they have for needing such things? Couldn’t they see she was just an eighteen-year-old girl, scared and in need of assistance?

            “Hello,” Andrea boomed. She waved a hand, too late realizing the breeze caused by her swaying fingers knocked most of the helicopters out of their flight path. However, they managed to right themselves. In no time, thirty choppers hovered in front of Andrea’s dark-chocolate eyes; a complementing swath of fighter jets circled her head, buzzing near her ears like whining flies. The girl couldn’t help but flinch with discomfort. Didn’t they have any manners? She blinked, refocusing her attentions squarely on the miniature bead-sized military hardware floating in front of her eyes.

            It was hard not to smirk and even chuckle softly at the humorous sight of it. They were so small and frail by comparison to her smallest movements. If a friendly wave of her hand could cast them aside with typhoon-like force, Andrea couldn’t help but wonder what might happen if she actually touched those flying metal insects and their pathetic pilots the size of lice.

            “Attention!” the central helicopter of the swarm shouted out through an improvised speaker system. “You will have one chance to reverse whatever you’ve done and return to human size. Non-compliance will be taken as a sign of aggression and met with equal hostility. You have been warned.”

            “Whatever I’ve done?” Andrea scoffed. “This wasn’t my fault. Listen, my physics teacher just wanted a volunteer to test out a new device, honest! All of this is because of his machine. I’m so, so sorry about what happened down there, under… under my shoe, but I can’t reverse this, understand? I didn’t do it!”

            There was a pause before the command helicopter answered. The screech of the jets sounded in Andrea’s ears again.

            “You have until the count of five to respond in the affirmative,” the crackling voice from the chopper shouted.

            “No!”

            “One… two…”

            “I didn’t do anything.”

            “Three… four…”

            “You’re making a big MISTAKE!”

            “Five! Open fire!”

            A pelting wall of high-caliber bullets from the entire fleet of helicopters pinged on Andrea’s cheeks. Somewhere to the side, she felt the whiz of the jets performing fly-bys and launching pellet-sized bomb payloads at her ears and neck. Down around the crater, the tanks took aim, as did all of the ground support, firing a flurry of ordinance into Andrea’s contentedly resting foot and bobbing toes.

            Andrea winced. The attack reminded her a lot of being tickled by a baby. Bullets and explosive devices alike bounced off her gentle flesh like mosquito kisses. She laughed joyously, and shook her head. What a show. They’d warned her, after all.

            And she’d warned them.

            Her hand rose up, fingers flat, and swept through the sky void in front of her face. Every single helicopter was taken out in a single swing, splattered in a metallic mess like swatted bed bugs on the creased terrain of her palm. She tucked her fingers against the heel of her hand and flicked the crushed specks away. The jets took slightly more effort, but by clawing her fingers out as she reached, the young woman easily collected those pesky creatures into her closing fist. She felt them demolish as easily as bubble wrap under the iron strength of her thumb.

            In the same motion, Andrea lifted her foot. With delicacy not befitting a leviathan so immense, she pried her toes past the arched thong of the flip-flop and heaved her voluptuous foot out of the darkened indent of her pink shoe. Wriggling her newly freed digits above, she cast the entire army in shadow. Then her foot came down, heel and all.

            Andrea’s ped made landing on the ground below with the force of a hurricane. Before, she’d merely set her foot down with the intention of catching herself, but now, there was power and intent behind the unthinkably massive piston that was her athletic leg. Her toes pile-drove into the earth, scattering entire streets and pebble-like houses in the blast. Concrete ripped as easily as dry leaves between the girl’s bucking, grasping digits. Her tan flesh came to rest in the ravaged earth, above where half of the army had previously made its assault. The lucky remainder of the tanks and APCs off to the side had halted their firing.

            The three-mile teen smiled to herself. She waggled her fingers in a slow, beguiling wave goodbye to her attackers. Her foot arched up again.

A sole a quarter-mile long smashed into the earth with such concussive strength that it toppled multiple smaller buildings in the city beyond, causing chaos in the streets where cars had clustered in a hopeless deadlock to escape on the highways. Andrea dug her foot down, twisting and churning her naked flesh upon the ground. Her toes burrowed easily into the flattened rubble, grappling for purchase and reinvigorating the strength of her flexed thigh. She could actually feel the ticklish explosions of totaled military hardware within the boundless wrinkles of her cute sole. A girlish snicker erupted from her throat.

            Maybe she’d been hasty by panicking before. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to all of this madness?

            A point of light as bright as a dying star lit up from a silo somewhere a few miles away. Andrea nearly had to shield her eyes as the glowing dot rose up on its arcing trajectory and traveled toward her. Not much larger than a matchhead, the missile made its way toward Andrea’s chest. Frowning, the girl reached out, cupped both hands around the weapon, and smushed it between closed palms.

            Nuclear energy fumed inside her clasped hands. A distorted mushroom cloud, held in Andrea’s palms, imbued her entire body with incredible warmth, like she’d just stuck her face momentarily over a steaming oven. The girl was briefly spooked by the sheer forearm-rattling strength of the explosion for her destruction-keen foes.

            Only then did she notice the swell of the wind around her cheeks, the dizzying spiral of the ground below, and the sudden fall of the clouds from above her head down toward her calves. Andrea opened her hands again, savoring the lingering tingle of the nuclear bomb as though she’d just received a full-body massage, and nearly wiped out on eye contact with the earth.

            She’d grown again. And this time, the increase made her first growth spurt look like a puberty-ridden tween’s usual weekly inch gain by comparison.

            At least ten times her previous size, if not greater. A veritable celestial being, which was especially appropriate, given that her head rose easily higher than the atmospherically contained pocket of oxygen around Earth. She had to be somewhere in the deific neighborhood of seventy miles tall.

            Andrea was a goddess now.

            This word “goddess” was the first to enter her mind, and she saw no reason to adopt any other. Certainly none of the microscopic mortals down below could do any better to describe her. As the largest, most powerful being on the planet now by an astronomic margin, anything less would be an insult.

            The cosmic young woman stooped down, hands on her knees, and bowed as close to the earth as she could manage. Black hair hung in a canopy like raining storm clouds over the world. Her foot which still wore the flip-flop arched back, the flesh of her sole slapping against the pink rubber as the flexed appendage barreled through untold miles of land surrounding her city. Surely multiple townships were bulldozed by this simple act, and Andrea hardly deigned to turn around and observe the literal hundreds of thousands of crushed houses, buildings, and city blocks smeared into her foamy shoe tread. She planted her fingers into the earth for support, feeling them sink through grass and loam as though the entire planet was made of melted clay.

            On earth, the effects of Andrea’s second nuclear-powered growth were exponentially dire. The rest of the small town where her crushed high school belonged was wiped out by the expansion of the angelically white-garbed goddess’s ten-mile-long feet. Her big toe crashed through a mountain peak, causing an avalanche as her sweet digit emerged through the rocky underbelly. A flash-flood of boulders visited upon the town on the opposite valley, wiping out neighborhoods and city districts alike from the mere prod of Andrea’s toe above.

            The hometown city wasn’t faring much better. The hapless history teacher Mr. Duncan stood atop his car, peering over the hopeless wreckage of the downtown area, or whatever remained of it. Cars jammed every which way, blown in the wind of the giant teen’s steps or otherwise brushed aside by cascading buildings. Then, of course, there was the centerpiece of the carnage and the symbol of humanity’s incoming fall: Andrea’s pudgy, adorable pinky toe rested peacefully atop the crumpled remnants of the urban spread, her shortest digit taller than any single skyscraper could’ve hoped to match. Buildings fortunate enough to survive her lurch forward were bent in all manner of gravity-defying directions, leaning into the slight wrinkles of her beefy, impenetrable skin. Occasionally her foot would twitch as she endeavored to crouch over the earth, flicking another city block into oblivion.

            An early night fell in shadow, as Andrea’s seventy-mile form well and truly blocked out the sun. She smiled broadly as the kingdom of insects at last became visible once again. Where before the high-rise towers were just lofty enough to scrape Andrea’s ankles, now, all of the city was shallow enough to form a lowly carpet. For a girl as large as her, the only true differentiation was by color and captured light. The skyscrapers were so paltry as to be hardly noticeable from the flat, grassy plains which encircled them. She traced her index finger through the valley, scooping away entire city blocks in a mush of rubble upon the pad of her digit, and pressed the rippled destruction to her lips.

            “Dear Lord,” the history teacher uttered. He swallowed a lump in his throat the size of a baseball. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

The sight of Mr. Duncan’s student’s landscape of a foot becoming the new horizon on the curvature of the earth itself felt, somehow, horrifyingly natural in this instant. Like an inevitability. The history teacher had long suspected something was approaching which might pull a final curtain on mankind. He just never assumed it would originate from a point so near to home, from a caring young woman he’d taught so many times before in his classroom with her bright eyes and raised hand.

            But his expectations were irrelevant. That this could be the same Andrea, now looming high enough that she’d be visible from the moon, was merely a footnote in the completion of mounting probability. The conclusion of humanity was here, and apparently, he was the only one with his eyes open wide enough to notice.

            The man raised his arms above his head, cleared his throat, and proclaimed.

            “Look! Look at her!” Mr. Duncan cried out at the top of his lungs, feeling his voice mostly lost to the blaring of car horns and screaming populace. “Don’t you see what’s happening? This is the end. She is the end! We’re standing around in wonder, as though we want to be near, as though we aren’t afraid of what she means for us. We’re watching the coming of the apocalypse, my friends. The end of life as we know it, the end of life on the planet, and the end of anything that… isn’t her.”

            Mr. Duncan continued to babble, earning a few listeners here and there, most of them too dazed and shell-shocked by the cataclysm of Andrea’s bronze, vortex-printed toes to process his words. They were lost in the fog.

            “Attention, everyone,” Andrea said, casting her gaze for miles around, such that every city in earshot could appreciate her magnificent form. She cleared her throat for emphasis and commenced a speech which transcended borders. “I know it must all be a lot to take in, seeing someone so big and strong as me above all of you, wiping out your cities with one step. But try to think about it from my point of view, hard as that might be. This is all new for me, too. And I think it’s going to be good. Not good for you, obviously, but for me and… my world. Since this is my world now, and you’re all… my people. My itty, bitty, dust-spot people, who go where I want, sometimes die when I want them to, and most importantly, live for me. Me: Andrea, your new goddess. Got it, little ones?”

            She didn’t wait for an answer, nor would she have been able to hear any of the various throngs of humanity squealing in either adoration or revolt. Their agreement with her new order as Earth’s queen wasn’t necessary; Andrea just liked the idea of them knowing what was going to happen to them, and why. She supposed she made a good goddess, in that respect. With every passing second, it became easier to think of herself as their deity.

            Andrea ascended back to her full height. It was difficult to make out individual details of her toy Earth now, but she knew she’d manage by feeling out whatever she needed with her toes.

            She adjusted her stance, dragging her remaining flip-flop across a lake and another mountain range. The barely-noticeable puddle of water splashed a mile high and drowned an adjacent town; the tumbling crags of rock which didn’t become lodged in the hot-pink sky of Andrea’s shoe were left to rain down as megaton hail upon the unfortunate cities below. The young woman’s toes, paled by the effort, released their grip on the thong of the limp footwear. Her shoe became a fluttering pink meteor as it flopped to rest, sinking down over thirty square miles of farmland and suburb and dragging the crying population and their useless defenses down into the crater below the discarded footwear.

            That foot, now just as free as its twin, stamped down hard into the saturated ground with the same force generated during Andrea’s “fight” with the army. At her new seventy-mile stature, such a collision of heel to Earth actually caused the planet to shake. Amused at her own unknown strength, Andrea coquettishly cupped her fingers to her lips as she pondered the towns on the opposite side of the planet which were no-doubt affected by that single clomping declaration of her bare-foot leadership over humanity.

            The girl let her foot hover now over a new stretch of land not yet touched by her destructive skin and the earth-breaking muscle behind it. Shadow danced across miles in a flash between the grand canyon-crevices of her toes. Bored of this mounting anticipation for the poor, sobbing civilians in the streets below with no hope of escaping the coming force, Andrea set her heel down. She took her time with this city, laying her foot down mile-by-mile, from the back to the front.

            “Ready or not…” Andrea snickered, giving her dark ponytail a flighty toss. “…here I come!”

            Her marshmallowy sole, so silky and luxurious in its texture, folded down from an arched flex to a wrinkle-bunching bulwark. The makeshift carpet of the cityscapes crunched quietly into the creases of her peachy skin, shaping the destruction into a mold of her body, as though she’d set her foot into pure, fresh-fallen snow. An orb-like divet sunk into the earth below her heel as she pivoted her weight, twisting and scrunching multiple ecosystems at once into her foot.

            At last her toes met their mark. Each one gaped and closed, ensnaring dozens of buildings and office parks into the fleshy folds between every olive digit. It was likely she held close to a thousand human lives, if only briefly, thrashing and wailing for help in the dark grip between her toes before the steel structures were pulverized as easily as melting ice amidst her hot skin.

            Her other foot lifted, snidely pausing as the first had, and crushed the remainder of her home city’s downtown between writhing toes. She snatched up what remained between her big and second toes, letting the papery architecture be preserved for just a few more fleeting instants between her buttery digits before destruction.

            “I guess this is one way to get a massage, if you just can’t find someone tall enough to give you one,” Andrea shrugged, laughing to herself. She only hoped some of the puny inhabitants below were picking up on her joking jabs at their expense. The point of her rule would only be driven home if they could all hear the sheer elation she took in their mass-scale undoing. If they could know, once and for all, that she was not here to nurture them, but to make their contemptible, fingernail-sized accomplishments into a middling source of fleeting comfort to her worship-deserving body.

            Between Andrea’s toes, in the cluster of buildings and street so cleanly plucked from the very earth, was a city block clogged by crunched buildings and piled cars. Within one of those cars near the top of the heap, overturned but nonetheless intact, was Mr. Duncan: concussed, bleary, but awake. He clambered upside-down to the broken window of his vehicle and watched the light fading fast between the mile-high cliff sides of his beautiful student’s velvety toes beyond. It was truly like watching the opening and closing of the earth itself, in this valley of shadow.

            When, in fact, it was simply the dexterous grip of a happy-go-lucky student and her meticulously pedicured naked foot longer than the entire city which had been her home for nearly two decades. Already Mr. Duncan could tell she was clenching her toes, as the buildings melded together by atomic pressure and literally shattered via the strength of the seventy-mile goddess.

            With the sealing away of that light, Mr. Duncan could trace a humbling relationship between his theories on the end of the world and this bombshell brunette’s playful foot. The man tried to call out the last lines of his sermon on the end of times, but found he was out of words, and out of listeners, as the young woman smashed the last remnants of her town amidst her toes and allowed the stony crumbs of it to spill out down the mountainside of her upturned sole, glinting in the sun.

            “God, am I ever glad I didn’t skip science class today, huh?” Andrea murmured triumphantly to herself. She was truly unable now to imagine how different and pointless an existence she might have led, and the Earth itself in turn might have led, had she not unwittingly volunteered to be the new goddess of her universe. It was a sad thought, and one she quickly set aside in favor of giggling wonderment about the location of the next-largest city on Earth, so she and her holy feet could bestow a visit.

            It was only fair to spread the joy, after all.

            Frenzied radio signals crisscrossed from edge to edge of the United States. Key government officials from America, and soon any country in the surrounding hemispheres, were stowed deep inside a nuclear bunker. Every branch of the military was thrust into mad activity, planting any able-bodied soldier and pilot into each and every armored vehicle on the country’s payroll. One word buzzed on the lips of every terrified politician, seething general, and lowly private alike.

            Andrea.

            The call came through. After a brief wade out into the Atlantic Ocean, churning up waves towering enough to inflict hurricanes and typhoons on all countries unlucky enough to touch the same waters, the young woman was making her way back toward land. Squarely in the direction of New York.

            The dark-haired, sun-kissed beauty took ownership of the entire horizon before she was within one hundred miles of the bustling coastal city. Her shapely thighs flexed and her runner’s calves bulged as she shuffled through the shallow waters of the ocean. As she stood at a staggering seventy miles in height, her slender, silky legs were the only focus of those below Earth’s atmosphere, not to mention the fluttering halo formed by her white skirt. The rest of her happy, confident form was obscured by outer space itself, though with her arms spread wide as she reached toward her next hapless destination, those on the ground could make out her face with a high-rise telescope. And they could see she was smiling ear-to-ear.

            Andrea’s fingers danced and twirled through the black curls of her flowing hair. Her other hand loosely gripped the thongs of her pink flip-flops, hooked over two lazy digits. For her, stepping across the boundless waters of the Earth was as innocuous as removing one’s shoes to step barefoot through a rain puddle. Indeed, the ocean only just submerged her pretty, pedicured feet beneath the shimmering blue surface. She giggled as tidal whirlpools by the thousands tickled her ankles.

            The contact high of letting the cities and mountains squish through her toes like sand was still warming her cheeks, but Andrea wanted more. Needed more. She knew that already. After trampling her hometown and the adjacent burbs into a dusty paste of rubble and tick-sized people, there was no way she could ignore the rest of the world. They had to see her. More importantly, though, they had to experience the inevitable storm of her mile-high, graceful bronze-tanned toes colliding with their sense of reality.

            “I’ve always wanted to see New York,” the girl declared softly to herself, though her voice carried for nearly a hundred miles beyond. “And now it’ll get to see me, too!”

            As she came nearer to the coast, she slowed her pace, ensuring to dip her toes into the water and arch her heel backward such that the hurricanes were directed away from the city. Though it was a funny idea to flood all of New York in a single elegant kick of her foot and the subsequent country-sized ocean wave, it would be a waste. Andrea intended to enjoy this game with her newest toy city. For that, she’d need it to survive just a little longer.

            She held her foot aloft from the water as millions of gallons dripped away from her sleek skin in tantalizing droplets. By squinting, she could just make out a direct comparison to the city by holding her naked ped above Manhattan like a visiting alien spacecraft. The island was actually longer than her foot, but only just; her sole could’ve covered most of the building-speckled land and its eight million citizens.

            Like the previous city she’d subjugated into the crevices of her toes and the oppressive weight of her heel, Andrea spied a hopeless traffic jam of cars packing the streets in a useless attempt to escape. Only by crouching down, her gorgeous looming face now taking place of the sun over New York City, could the woman make out the microbe-like movements of hundreds of thousands of rampaging people in the streets, not to mention those still entrapped in the offices which didn’t stand much taller than Andrea’s pinky toe.

            “Hello down there, cuties,” Andrea whispered. Her booming murmur echoed through every concrete canyon of the metropolis. “I always heard you guys were called the Big Apple, but you’re not so big-looking to me. How about the Itsy Bitsy Tiny Apple? Honestly, a city that’s just a liiiittle bit longer than my foot can’t possibly be BIG, right?”

            The screams of horrified denizens and the screech of swerving cars only multiplied. Andrea chuckled at their panic.

            “It doesn’t matter what you’re called, though. I’m still going to play with you,” the giant brunette said simply. “Since I’m your goddess and all. It’s kind of my job. Sorry!”

            Andrea’s foot still hoisted itself over the city, casting the majority of downtown in the shadow of her arched sole. Her heel rested comfortably in the water while her toes formed an arc over the center of the city, presenting her foot like a fleshy monument akin to Godzilla rising from the ocean.

It occurred to Andrea that there were certainly worse last sights a city could see before it was obliterated than the bottom of her foot. After all, she took good care of herself. Frequent visits to the spa, as often as she could afford, to pamper her toes and moisturize her instep and heel with soothing lotions. Surely the vision of her wrinkled peach sole becoming the new sky for all of New York was a ravishing, if not unusual experience? She allowed them to savor the vista just a little longer. Rather than set her toes down, as she’d been planning, Andrea’s finger released its grip on the thong of her left flip-flop.

            The bubble-gum rubber footwear the size of Manhattan Island plummeted end-over-end. It fluttered in torrential winds which surely bestowed tornados on distant lands, and came to a landing at the very edge of the city. The thick, squishy platform of the falling flip-flop smashed instantly through multiple miles of docks and coastal industry, taking out entire fleets of shipping vessels in the process. It slid back into the Atlantic. Waters rushed through dozens of city blocks directly surrounding the carnage, washing many buildings back toward the ocean and the waiting zigzag rivets of Andrea’s floating flip-flop.

            “My bad, guys. I was just getting sick of carrying my shoes everywhere,” Andrea apologized half-heartedly. Stretching her arm out, she let go of the other shoe, which followed suit of its twin: the deadly pink oval of it crashed mercilessly into the opposite docking tip of the island, and came to rest back in the ocean. Now each of the young woman’s simple, sexy shoes were discarded on opposite ends of the city, weighing down the fragile rock foundations of the coast.

            The earth creaked audibly from the shifting pressure upon its crust. Andrea laughed again, hands on her hips, and observed the city now flanked by her footwear, with nowhere else to look but her seventy-mile goddess form. As her ankle was growing tired from holding in air above the city, she at last allowed herself a break, and spread her toes wide apart to set them down.

            Square half-miles of urban sprawl were instantly pulverized under the five heavenly meteor-like globes of Andrea’s toes. Entire buildings ripped asunder by the shifting, gritty pattern of her toeprints and skin cells. Canyons of tanned flesh were instantly formed, darkening the streets below, and stacking higher even than the skyscrapers themselves.

            “Ooohh… that feels a lot better!” Andrea cooed. She scrunched her toes together, closing the plush gaps of tan skin and grinding those silky digits down into the shattered earth. In a flash, whole districts of the city were eaten up into the compressing crevices of the eighteen-year-old’s divine digits. Those buildings and citizens which missed the initial, crushing onslaught of her foot were left to drown in the crystal-clear liquid still plunking from her spongy skin, composed of half-ocean water and half-summer sweat from her skin.

            Next Andrea laid the ball of her foot down upon New York City. The rotund, lunar shape of it crowned the untouched urban scape south of her murderous toes. A thousand-foot crater lurched into the Earth beneath the crushing pressure of her twisting leg. Some buildings were spared in the plush, river-like wrinkles of her sole, but those skyscrapers which weren’t so lucky liquefied down to the level of bottom soil in a single step. Subway tunnels and sewers cracked like tube straws and collapsed into the compacted graveyard of the city. Then, at last, came the sole.

            Andrea sighed luxuriously as she rubbed her foot across the remaining unmolested landscape of America’s great city. She savored the smearing of entire city blocks across her skin like a lotion of stone and blood. The ticklish carnage of tumbling office parks and cracked streets caressed the tender arched flesh of her toe crevices. Earth itself seemed to groan and buckle beneath Andrea’s sole as she pressed herself out of the ocean floor with her opposite foot, flexed and swollen, until her whole seventy-mile body weight was concentrated into the very heart of Manhattan.

            The girl spread her stately arms wide, her balletic fingers pointed toward the sky as she sculpted herself into her best yoga pose. Her chest puffed up and her willowy back arched. With one upturned sole still spilling a thousand mighty waterfalls of ocean water down upon New York’s remains, the other foot crunched deeper upon the island until the entire flip-flop-sized landmass was submerged in rushing water like the lost Atlantis.

            She smiled. Brief a visit though it had been, she didn’t have a single regret in stopping by the Itsy Bitsy Tiny Apple. With this latest conquest complete, Andrea couldn’t help but let her gaze drift to the horizon and the countless other civilizations which awaited their goddess and her “blessing.”

Andrea brushed away the last remnants of the nuclear attacks on her body. Those marks left little more than a sooty discharge upon her silky olive skin, but didn’t harm the seventy-mile woman in any lingering way beyond an itch.

            The only real side effect of those missiles was the massive spurt in her size, combined with an inflated sense of self. Not that Andrea saw her burgeoning ego as a character flaw; after all, she was large enough to fit most individual cities of planet Earth under her bare feet. To prove it, she’d spent her day since the macabre classroom science experiment smushing whole subdivisions into her sole wrinkles and wedging civilizations between her doughy toe crevices. Was it so great a stretch to let herself believe she was the greatest creature on the face of the globe?

            The dark-haired goddess crouched, and gazed across the wide expanse of her destructive handiwork. She couldn’t help but smirk. Smoke rose in narrow plumes from city remains for untold miles around, all personally trounced by Andrea and her eager steps. In fact, she probably had samples from hundreds of different cities crunched like earthy grit into the plush flesh of her soles. Like a souvenir she would only continue to build up as she marched, new buildings and city blocks molded into her skin as lotion. With her feet thus decorated, Andrea was a walking sky-high representative for all the towns she’d slaughtered beneath her bulbous toes.

            “It’s fitting,” Andrea remarked curiously, to herself and to the world at large. She propped her ankle over her knee, observing the grimy layer of city-rubble glossed over the underside of her foot. With her fingernail, she flicked away a chunk of debris from her heel, sending buildings spraying downward in raining formation. “I leave my mark on all of you. Then you leave your mark on me. I guess we’re even that way, huh?”

            But of course, this vision wasn’t enough for her. Andrea wanted more. The region of her former hometown was decimated, plus the island of Manhattan was in particular ruin after all the methods she’d used to scrunch it underfoot. That was but a speck upon the vast geography of a world waiting to sink under the ladylike weight of her slender instep.

            Come to think of it, she’d only visited the blessings of her bubblegum-pink flip-flops and lush soles upon the eastern coastline of the United States. So many infinitesimal citizens had yet to experience Andrea in person. This fact made the power-drunk eighteen-year-old a little sad; surely there were images of her voluptuous form flashing across news stations and social media all over the world, from the final firsthand accounts of cities about to vanish beneath the shadow of her velvet sole. However, seeing a picture of her wouldn’t be the same as experiencing her divine strength and unbending will of her footfalls for real.

            Andrea decided then. She intended to visit more of the world, and soon. Besides, she’d always wanted to travel. Now that she could wade across the Atlantic Ocean as easily as a puddle in the street, she ruled out the need for expensive flights and boat rides. Would the water even rise up to her ankles in the deepest depths? Perhaps Deep 6 could threaten to splash up on her toned calves, but that was still a laughable prospect.

            “The only bad thing is that I can’t go swimming by the beach anymore,” she murmured, quelling her laughter.

            Before she revealed herself to the rest of the human race, though, Andrea decided there was an even more noble cause to address. Namely, her height. Those last two missile strikes upon Andrea’s body revealed one definitive truth to her: she wanted even more of the stature she was gifted.

            Unfortunately, it seemed the foolish military men hiding underground had learned their lesson after accidentally aiding in her last nuclear spurt. Which meant the girl would have to take matters into her own hands, and just discover an alternative method to springing upward again. Sure, seventy miles was pretty damn tall, but Andrea’s parents had always taught her to never settle for “good enough,” when she could be achieving her highest potential with greater effort. With that in mind, the girl set about locating a new source of nuclear energy to sap.

            First things first, though. She needed to rinse off after her delicate effort of dismantling entire states with her petite heels and lanky toes. Dangling her pink flops from her fingertips, Andrea stepped back into the shallow pool of water which was the Atlantic coast; it couldn’t even rise high enough to submerge the top of her dew-speckled foot. The giantess scraped away the cluttered remains of buildings, streets, and tiny humanity which had become glued to her sole by sheer centrifugal force.

            Little by little, she watched the scraps of architecture washing away in the frothy waters and peeling away from her damp skin like dirt, spiraling toward the shower drain after a long day outdoors. She smiled. While she was cleaning off the previous souvenirs, there would be plenty more to collect. With a pinch of her toes in the loamy sand of the nearest beach, Andrea promised herself she would have a substantial sample of Europe painted across her soles by nighttime. Her rumbling giggle echoed over the land at the mere thought.

            “It’s not like it’ll take me more than a minute or two to get over there,” she concluded, twirling her hair around her fingertip. “But before I go… I guess there’s one more little thing to take care of.”

            Now all Andrea needed to find was a new way to glean that luscious nuclear power out of the hapless crumb-sized tools of mankind. How hard could it be? She set about exploring the northern sector of the country, following the coastline higher up and splashing typhoons onto the unsuspecting cities with every casual kick of her ankles through the crashing waves. Though Andrea was tempted to plant her foot squarely upon some of the pristine and developed cities, dotted with skyscrapers not even tall enough to beat out her juicy pinky toe, she restrained herself. She was on a mission now. Besides, those locations would still be waiting for her to play with once she’d increased her size again and paid the other continents a visit.

            Coming up on a less populated region near the Canadian border, where the ground was primarily coated in a carpet of miniature firs and evergreens, something caught Andrea’s eye.

            “Now what is that?” she wondered aloud, smiling already. She lowered herself luxuriously to the ground. The spires of her fingers drove into the clay-like earth, offering her support, while her shapely torso hovered nearer toward the ground until it settled completely.

            By idle strokes, she could feel the broad hills of her breasts bulldozing through multiple cities. As though fitting herself for cup size, two massive craters formed under her chest in the shape, flattening the urban quadrants into bowls. Entire downtown strips tumbled like stray grass blades into her bra as well, getting mashed beneath the heft.

            Andrea snickered, her skin tickled by the intrusion. How many microbial people were guiltily overjoyed to be flying toward the mountain range of her cleavage, before darkness and fire overtook them? She’d never thought of herself as having an especially large bosom, but at seventy miles tall, any other comparisons went out the window. And Andrea was even a little proud. Most expert mountaineers would surely balk at the thirty-square-mile coverage which constituted each boob, if she ever gave those insectoid adventurers the chance to scale her body toward the summit of her happily erect nipples.

            Amusements aside, something had grabbed Andrea’s attention below, in a clearing of the forest. Sure enough, by squinting and lowering her eyeline to just above the ground, Andrea confirmed what she’d spotted. A nuclear power plant, and a large one at that, complete with piping silos and dimly blinking lights, all brimming with terrified life.

As Andrea raised a mighty hand over the tiny square of the power plant, letting the shadows of her fingers dance across it, she briefly considered whether this might be a bad idea. Sure, those missiles had the bizarrely beneficial quality of enlarging her, but who was to say the same effect would take hold by absorbing the chemical fruits of a nuclear power plant? Maybe she’d only end up singeing her skin on no account but her desperate need to grow higher toward the cosmos.

            Worth it.

            The palm of Andrea’s hand collided with earth-breaking force over roughly twenty square miles, at the center of which lay the power plant. Wind from her descending hand blew over trees for dozens of miles in all directions, and those that weren’t ripped from the ground by gale-force air were instead crunched to a fine sawdust powder within one instant of impact with Andrea’s colossal fingers. For good measure, she swiveled her wrist in rapid pace, smearing the pad of her palm about. This ensured that the unruly contents of the nuclear plant would seep thoroughly into her luminous skin like a coin-dab of soap.

            “C’mon, work. Work!” Andrea chanted. She spoke in a hushed tone, like saying magic words. It seemed conceivable that someone of her stature and power could speak something and make it true with enough conviction. “Make me grow.”

            Once again, the effect wasn’t so much a burn as a tickle. At seventy miles tall, Andrea wasn’t fazed by much. She sighed with disappointment after spending several minutes rubbing the land as hard as she could into her hand. Perhaps she was simply too large now to be affected by such miniscule quantities of energy; that had to be the one and only downside of this growth game. Muddy earth crust caked her hand now like batter. Wiping her fingers off on the makeshift rug of Canadian trees, Andrea braced herself and stood back up. The balls of her feet careened through the landscape, caking civilization into mush between her widespread toes, as she launched back to her full height.

            “I guess you can’t always get everything you want,” she groaned. “Even when you’re THIS big.”

            As she did so, though, Andrea noticed something happening. Goose bumps creeping over her skin, from head to toe and then back again. A tingling beneath. This wasn’t unfamiliar territory. Glowing, the brunette goddess placed her hands over her heart, inhaled deeply, and savored her latest upward spurt.

            Metrics were almost useless by this point in time, to someone of such celestial scale as Andrea. However, by placing her now much-larger foot next to an already enormous footprint she’d mashed into the earth, guessing wasn’t difficult. Andrea now stood in excess of one hundred miles tall.

            Concluding this late-pubescent development to be enough for the time being, the girl refocused on her next task: sightseeing in Europe. Or rather, making herself the major sight to see across all of Europe simultaneously. Ironically, once she got close enough to an individual country, hovering her fourteen-mile-long naked foot over a hopeless populace, Andrea would be the only sight they could see. Her rosy, furrowed sole would serve as their sky, and the girlish curl of her toes would become their storm. She could hardly wait to show herself to them.

            Andrea set her flip-flops down with a hard splash in the Atlantic Ocean. They floated briefly in the sludgy depths, but were too heavy, and the size of rubber islands on their own, to move unaided. So, sliding her toes back around the thong straps, the giantess commenced her short stroll across the body of water. As predicted, the salty liquid scarcely reached the top of her ankle joint. Nothing could impede Andrea from trampling straight through the sea and over to Europe.

            Except her thirst. Realizing she hadn’t had anything to drink or eat for hours now, Andrea stooped, and formed a dipper from her hands. She’d heard it was a bad idea to drink ocean water, since it would only make you thirstier, but the girl decided her body didn’t play by human rules any longer. She could grow by squeezing nuclear power into her skin, after all. Previous logic no longer applied. Drinking deeply from the ocean with ten full scoops of water, Andrea wiped her mouth and continued on. The walk was peaceful, even relaxing in the way of a spa treatment as the Atlantic sluiced between her toes and under her sole, which squelched on the wet rubber with each tender step.

            In almost no time, giant flip-flop-clad feet were sending tidal waves of tossed ocean onto the coast of France. Shortly after, her shadow fell over them, and then the first throngs of European humanity saw the one-hundred-mile Andrea for the first time.

            “I’ve always wanted to see Paris,” Andrea whispered to herself. She smiled. “I guess I’ll just start there!”

            Military forces, cowering in bunkers only marginally safer than the surface, were in a frenzy. Nations had quickly overcome their differences in the name of collaborating to stop Andrea’s flighty rampage. So far, though, no good had come of it. If anything, they’d only succeeded in giving her some even bigger feet with which to crush them into paste. Not only that, but her destruction of the power plant and subsequent ascendance only confirmed they’d accidentally taught her a valuable lesson. If she continued collecting these energy sources across the globe, there would be no stopping her skyrocketing height. As it was, there was already no way to stop her, period.

            The Parisian sector of this emergency global partnership was in turmoil when they saw her on the horizon. Half of the forces wanted to unload every last nuke, missile, tank shell, and handgun bullet they had on Andrea, in the meager hope of revealing some weakness on her leviathan form. More rational voices pointed out that they’d already attempted usage of every manmade weapon, and all of them were either ineffective or, conversely, helpful to Andrea in her continued growth as a person. Arguments amongst the doomed humans were locked at a standstill, just as the massive young woman located the object of her interest.

            A twin pair of intricately textured foamy flip-flops came to rest in flanks beside the city; the soft platform of the ocean-sopping shoe alone rose taller than any structure on land. Resting atop those oblong fifteen-mile blocks were the lovely, lowliest appendages of a girl whose head was literally up inside and above the clouds.

            Andrea cocked her head inquisitively as she squatted above Paris, with one flip-flop poised on each border of the little town. The city was pretty, yes, but much smaller than she’d expected, after a lifetime of beautiful photographs and romantic movies led her to anticipate a gorgeous wonderland stretching far as the eye could see.

            As it stood now, the city’s square mileage was roughly equivalent to one of Andrea’s breasts. Just one. If she were to lower herself onto the ground and pinpoint her nipple toward the heart of the city, all of Paris would go concave beneath the incredible brunt of Andrea’s modest bust. But that would be far too quick, and not much fun for the girl. She exhaled, considering her options, and stood back up.

            The flip-flop grazed with careful precision just above the ground level of Paris. This simple act managed to knock over every major skyscraper and most landmarks, without the rubbery deathbringer ever touching the ground. Atlantic waters dripped down by the league, flooding the streets which avoided having their architecture caved over, but this was the least of anyone’s worries after not too long.

            “Try not to move down there, everybody,” Andrea joked softly, tittering to herself. “I don’t want to mess this up, all right?”

            In quick succession, Andrea flung the shoe away, then with her newly nude foot, utilized her toe to trace a line straight down the center of Paris. The girl carved the city in half like a pie. Despite only using her pinky toe, though, the meaty digit was still half a mile wide on its own, and smeared dozens of city blocks into the gridded pattern of Andrea’s pedicured skin. Then, satisfied with the shape she’d drawn, Andrea did the same thing in the opposite compass direction; balancing on one foot still housed within a flip-flop, the gorgeous sentinel of a woman dragged her toe through the fragile constitution of Paris, cutting it up into neat squares with her pink-hued toe.

            This odd and silent ritual of Andrea’s carried on for close to half an hour. By this time, the girl was getting bored, and most of Paris was in ruin. She’d tilled the earth with her toe in balletic focus, yet because her tiniest and most delicate toe was still so strong and thick by comparison to the micro-citizens, not much was left standing at the end. Ultimately, no decisions had been made in the military bunkers on whether to fire the remaining nukes or not, because a single one of Andrea’s footprints had caved their entire operation down into a flat surface.

            All at once, the girl became aware of one natural effect which was more capable of disrupting her peaceful European vacation than any paltry nukes: her bladder.

            Those handfuls of ocean water she’d drunk so greedily had passed through her faster than she anticipated. Refreshing as that drink was, Andrea realized she was going to have to dispose of that bodily need somehow. Embarrassment briefly warmed her cheeks; where on Earth could she possibly go for privacy, at one hundred feet tall?

            Then the anxiety dissipated just as soon as it formed. Andrea even felt silly. She was a goddess now. Specifically, the goddess over the entire planet. There was no need to feel apprehension at her desires or biological functions. Above all, it didn’t make any sense to taint her water supply in the ocean. And right here, in the carved-up remains of Paris, seemed good a place as any to find relief. After all, she’d already broken it.

            Feeling some slight regret for anyone below who might not appreciate the gesture, Andrea let her white skirt flutter down her thighs, followed by her panties, then nudged both garments well out of the way. Only for a second was Andrea self-conscious of being exposed below the waist to most of France and probably some surrounding lands as well; anyone who was enjoying the show for this moment was about to enjoy it much less. As was only right, to show proper reverence to their deity.

            Paris still lay directly between Andrea’s feet, putting her exposed nethers squarely above. She spread her heels wider in case of splashback, held her breath, then sighed with relief as the floodgates opened and her urine went spurting down into the half-ravaged ground zero of Paris.

            The golden stream fell in a more-or-less clean line, but upon puddling in the French capital, it couldn’t have been messier. Streets and toe-carving-lines alike gushed yellow. For twenty sustained seconds, Andrea pissed onto the very city she’d once dreamed of visiting with a romantic-hearted boyfriend; now, she was literally drowning the entire population in her pee, and washing away the victims of her yogi-esque pinky assault in a river of sour liquid. Paris became a disgusting soup of crushed buildings and the shuddering teen’s urine.

            “Now that feels a lot better!” Andrea moaned. The deed was done.

Andrea, the one-hundred-mile-tall living goddess, sighed with deific contentment. Having just relieved herself into Paris and flooded it with a urine shower, she’d scooped up acres of grassy land from elsewhere in the country like a personal tissue and used it to wipe herself off, before at last tossing the piss-riddled fields into the floating, acrid remnants of France’s former greatest city, now reduced only to citizenry and landmarks floating in a yellow lake. She had come so far since awakening to find herself at three miles tall, a staggering height which nonetheless now would’ve only been the equivalent of a doll to her. Not just in size, but confidence and self-worth as well, and at only the small cost of the planet’s safety, Andrea had never felt better about herself.

            The dark-haired beauty steepled her fingers, overlooking her toy world through the clouds, and started getting new ideas. At this rate of growth, it would only take one or two more doses of delicious nuclear encouragement to again dwarf her previous stature. One hundred miles was well and good to smash whole cities with just a few footsteps, or a full bladder, but Andrea could only imagine what it would be like to do the same to larger swaths of land and civilization, with even fewer steps. Granted, that meant this Earth would be disposed of all the quicker, but time no longer mattered to a girl of Andrea’s sheer scale, power, and godlike beauty. All she cared about now was finding the absolute peak of her potential as the ruler of this world, able to destroy just as easily as she could create, and she most certainly intended to trample and squish this pitiful globe until there was nothing left but a memory and a comforting tickle on her elegant bare feet.

            “Attention, everyone!” Andrea announced in a deep bellow, cupping her hands around her lips and revolving in place, ensuring that everyone on Earth could hear her roar. Public speaking had never been her favorite, and especially after what had happened during the science class demonstration, she would’ve been hesitant to speak up before. Now, however, she had nothing but bravado. “I’ll be growing again soon, and I just wanted you all to know. There’s nothing you can do about it, whether you like it or not. I’m sure this is all very shocking for you, to see someone just getting bigger and bigger and… well, I’m not going to feel bad anymore, so I’ll just say it… getting more beautiful all the time, but it’s not your fault. This is how it’s meant to be now. So, I’m going to get every last bit of radioactive-whatever that you have around here, and use it to keep getting taller. Don’t try to hide it from me. I can see everything from up here, mostly, except for all of you super teeny-tiny people, unless I bend down and squint real hard. Anyway, that’s all I have to say. If you have anything really important left to do, you should probably do it now, because once I’m big enough, I’m going to stomp and stomp and use up the rest of you under my pretty feet. Yes, that’s right, I said pretty. You couldn’t ask for a better ending than this.”

            With that, Andrea set off eastward across the wreckage of Europe, this time headed for Asia. Her svelte yet megaton-dense feet landed weightily on each crumbling span of terra firma. All manner of terrain, be it thick green forest or sparkling glass-paned cityscapes, squished like multicolored mud up between the girl’s olive-toned toes. She dug her heels in, burying land beneath it in rounded craters, while her soles tattooed into the earth perfect impressions of the wrinkle-creased flesh canvas that was each tanned arch. A satisfying squelching sound echoed each time Andrea peeled her naked peds off the earth, as though she was walking through her backyard after a fresh rain, and the girl couldn’t help but relax and giggle to herself, enjoying the sensation on her tender skin.

            This act of course translated to something far more cataclysmic and ultraviolent to every normal-sized denizen of the planet unlucky enough to land under her feet. Whole counties and provinces at a time vanished into a flattened, deadened version of themselves, molded to the shape of Andrea’s feet and budding toes, from second-to-second, as all it took for total annihilation was the length of one energetic footfall. One moment they were bustling, trying to parse out the meaning of Andrea’s thunderous words, and the next  they were watching an eclipse cast above them, their whole view of the sky eaten up in a single instant by a gargantuan, peachy, deep-arched foot gleefully wriggling all the way toward its next target.

            Those locations that avoided being trodden upon, however, weren’t much happier. Every town and metropolis on Earth was thrown into a panic after Andrea’s last announcement, knowing that their home world would soon be demolished by the gorgeous yet uncompromisingly mighty giantess. International governments united, but found it impossible to both handle the chaos of the doomed citizens and protect their nuclear armaments from Andrea’s march. As a result, there was little resistance present when the girl arrived in Russia to get her next fix. The snowy terrain cooled her skin, dousing the flaming rubble which had stuck to the bottom of her feet and in between her doughy toes.

            Andrea wandered for several minutes around the broad landscape of the world’s largest country, finding even this location was barely large enough to contain her. Though she was far too high up to distinguish the sight of a power plant speckled amongst the microscopic details of the wintry countryside, she didn’t have to be specific, as her feet covered enough ground that Andrea could simply find her victims on accident after walking for long enough. Just to be thorough, she made a point of trampling every single square mile of Russia, walking in a straight line and tilling rows of land with her crushing footsteps, as though mowing a lawn. Snow and mountain alike bent now to the will of Andrea’s muscular, meaty soles. Her toes curled into the earth itself, her delicate stubby digits balling, and ripping up land-crust with every step and leaving deep asteroid-rounded impressions in the hard earth easily as fluffy foam.

Once Russia was a pancake, trampled by dozens of shuffling canyons sculpted by her lovely "petite" feet, Andrea stood in the thin puddle of the ocean and waited. She stared at her hands, frowning, wondering if perhaps she'd been mistaken in her understanding of the growth process. She didn't have to wait long, though.

Abruptly, the already-shallow ocean, which even at its deepest point only rose above Andrea's ankles, seemed to drain lower, or rather, the girl herself was stretching yet higher past the stratosphere and into outer space itself. Now that the ocean couldn't even fully contain her foot, running in rivulets down the sides and spilling between her toes, Andrea could make a pretty good guess about her success, based on the height of the water and the dwindling appearance of the country she'd just finished ravaging, now stamped by footprints which comparatively looked like a child's next to Andrea's. She had doubled in size, if not more, and she wasn't even finished growing.

            "Well," she laughed. "I guess that worked!"

            Her body continued soaring higher, expanding in perfect proportion, and in some ways became even more flattering. The girl's figure turned curvier, her buxom bust swelling to the size of small moons, while her athletically toned rear end could've cracked the whole planet if she sat down hard enough. Andrea, surprised yet pleased at these additional benefits, admired herself in the still waters of the ocean like a mirror, turning around into modeling poses and marveling at how desirable her figure had become. It was true what she'd said to the pitiful little microbe-people below: she was becoming more beautiful, and only getting more exquisite with each mile of height she gained. She decided it would only be fair for humanity to enjoy the dazzling visage of their destroyer just before she made short work of their vulnerable globe, as a final parting gift.

            Andrea walked in steadfast circles around the Earth. The taller and stronger she became, the faster she moved. Entire bodies of water splashed across the crumbling remnants of shoreline countries, drowning most of the populace, and leaving the rest to float helplessly in the tsunami-grade puddle just before Andrea's foot came colliding through the clouds to drive them into the briny depths. As she bypassed three hundred miles tall, then four hundred and even higher, Andrea delighted in how much more efficiently she could quash the world below her heels like gingerbread. Before her last growth spurt, it took multiple curb-stomps to down just one major capital, but now, even the most expansive and architecturally sprawling metropolises met their end in just one step. Some that were located closer together could even be stamped to dust in the same footfall, two or three at a time.

            The giantess focused on the various sensations the destruction of each country brought, enjoying each one uniquely. Natural lush green locations were the most pleasant to step upon, as lakes and forestry alike tingled like soft feathers on the plush undersides of her feet, even tempting the semi-erogenous zones between her digits. Thickly populated man-made cityscapes, bright and silvery and full of one-time promise, were more amusing, as it felt like breaking intricate sugar crystals with her feet, though these too offered no rebellion to the relentless rise and descent of her peds. The mountainous locales were the toughest to bring down, but with a roll of her toes or a pile-drive from her heel, even these hardy bits of pointed topography were leveled off into a flat, lifeless plain in the exact shape of Andrea's continually evolving feet.

            In no time, she was crushing whole countries in one step, and then even this seemed like a small feat, when Andrea found she could practically pick up an entire nation by wedging its jagged tectonic border between her bulbed big toe and slender second toe, clamping them together, and lifting the country up like a dinner plate. This turned into a fun diversion for the giant eighteen-year-old as she crested a height well-past one thousand miles and climbing. Andrea alternated between trying to delicately pick up the countries in one piece between her toes and flinging them around the orbit, or simply letting them come apart in brittle chunks when she'd crunch her strong, sun-kissed toes together. Clumps of country plunked into the water below from Andrea's magnificent airborne foot, though just as much of the mushy land-debris became lodged like clay into the tender toe-crevasses and the dimpled ravine-length creases of Andrea's heavenly soles.

            Gravity no longer held Andrea earthbound; she was large enough now to make her own gravity. She took advantage of this by letting herself drift peacefully in the space surrounding Earth, as her height had become incalculable in miles, but it was more than enough for the girl to notice that she was now taller than the diameter of the entire Earth by a sizable amount, and still continuing to swell. Her chocolate-brown hair fashionably spread out among the cosmos, as though she was floating underwater; her arms lay at her sides. Only the girl's toes remained in consistent contact with the shell of Earth.

            No longer even able to pick up individual countries in her digits without instantly smashing them like pollen clusters, Andrea adapted instead to scooping up the continents one by one between her ten dancing toes, or at least as much of them as she could grab. These broken shards of Pangea were so fragile now, that even the deepest roots to the center of the planet by the center of a continent could do nothing to resist the insistent, greedy pull of those lovely, pinkish, pedicured toes. One at a time, Andrea wasted each location, grinding them to dirty pulp in the arch-canyon of pale, beefy skin between each monumental toe; she saved her home continent for last, and savored its decimation for the longest, then extended her leg far from Earth, letting the grit of North America sprinkle out from between her balletically flexed toes and disappear amongst the stars.

            Her ultimate farewell to the planet was not yet finished, though, and once Andrea had outgrown it enough that she couldn't even attempt to keep a balance on the marble-sized thing, she cupped the Earth between both soles of her inward-facing bare feet. She let it tumble among her arches, massaging her hard-working flesh, then let it come to rest between her fateful toes. Smiling at her accomplishments, and waving goodbye to any of the few remaining humans left intact, the globe disappeared to darkness between the pillars of Andrea's toes, which pulsed together only once, as that was all that was necessary to render Earth just as broken and insignificant to her as the rest of the tiny universe she had yet to conquer underfoot.