Getting back to her took him almost three days.

In reality, it took Mark a little over six months to muster the courage to go and meet her again.

Six months of brooding, not only at night in his bunk, but every day when he was alone or doing chores with his crewmates that did not meant interaction or talking with anyone, he found himself thinking about the giant girl; at the beginning he thought he would eventually get over it as some mild mental trauma; being grabbed and manhandled by a giant creature (no matter how lovely, he reluctantly acknowledged even when he was in her clutches) before whom he was completely helpless was nothing short of nerve-wracking… he had been caught by big people before, always escaping in the end, but the other experiences were, if more painful and dangerous, easier to sort out mentally in that in those he at least was clear he disliked the experience.

But with what had happened between him and Zava, although intimidating, he was not sure at first that it was altogether unpleasant: it left him bewildered as he had never been; he liked, he acknowledged now, more than a little conceitedly, to think of himself a self-made man, independent, who always knew what he wanted and what he stood for; at least that is how he saw himself before stumbling upon the 25 meter-tall belle that unsettled his worldview to the bottom.

As time passed, with the long walks needed to supply the Spindrift with food and the numerous chores to keep it maintained, he had plenty of opportunity to ponder long on her encounter with the alien beauty, although he knew he had been (more than technically) molested and abused, he found himself, with a crooked smile, not holding it against her, after all. He had, after all, kind of goaded her with his scoffing attitude and dismissing her as a child (which he knew, even then, deep down, that she no longer was one) …

And she did not hurt him, quite the opposite, but she certainly enjoyed overpowering him, that’s for sure. And that awkward, mutually complicitous but covert look they shared when they last spoke in her hand beside Betty… that was the final nail in the coffin of his old self; he even blurted a hint that he was not unwilling to see her again. Finally, although he was not sure, he though, his heart skipping a beat, that she saw her quietly weep when he last looked back longingly at her, standing at the tree line, hastily turning back from them and almost running away as if to escape from their tiny figures gazing at her from between the high grass.

In the days following his harrowing first meeting with Zava, he thought that he would man up and eventually forget the incident, forget Zava as he had left other confrontations with big people behind him, and move on with whatever life he had left, stranded as he was in this alien world, where everything was disproportionately, awkwardly and uncomfortably big, even women.

But he didn’t forget. He did not get over her; as time passed, his memory of her never grew any dimmer and he thought more and more fondly of the giant woman, her dark eyes, mischievously smiling lips, cheerful personality and graceful, cat-like movements and gait, disconcerting in someone of her gargantuan proportions. Being held in her hands, looking into those eyes, he knew that he was lost and hers even when she released him, even more so then as in doing so, she revealed her ultimately compassionate and empathetic disposition.

And he could no longer deny it: He did not, consciously nor unconsciously, want to let her fade from his mind; what is more: he knew that he could not, he was altogether powerless, to stop thinking of her. In fact, it was not only daydreaming, he started dreaming at night more and more often of the dark-eyed giantess, until it seemed it was everything he dreamt of.

And they were not innocent dreams, either. When he woke up he could not recollect the entire dream, of course, but only flashbacks of her huge lithe form stooping over him… her legs towering over him and then her thighs spreading to his sides and beyond him as she kneeled… her gigantic body descending to cast a looming shadow over him, her slender yet enormous long-fingered hand spread and, faster than he thought possible for such a huge animal as she was,  reaching for him and tenderly but unescapably grabbing him, pinning his limbs, leaving him helpless, with only his head sticking out of her incredibly soft, warm, aromatic fist… the close up of her unpainted, healthy pink, shortly and neatly trimmed thumbnail near his face…

the vertigo in his belly and the back of his thighs  as she lifted him dozens of feet to her comely face, past but tantalizingly close to her slightly parted lips to look at him unsettlingly close and unsettlingly deep with her chocolate colored eyes framed by those long lashes and thin eyebrows as eyes as big as his head and almost unbearably beautiful, brimming with piercing intelligence, scrutinized his features moving quickly over his diminutive figure in the palm of her hand with a mix of innocent awe and a blooming intuitive female desire while she cooed over him with her (to him) slightly deep and husky voice… was that look really in her eyes when he was captured by her… or was he assuming things? The dreams were not limited to visuals, however.

He had also flashbacks of the disquietingly womanly scent emanating from her naked thigh skin when he was put in her lap and later pinned against it while she fondled him at will… before that, the undeniable warmth wafting up from her crotch even through her pajamas while he was standing in her lap under the shelf of her trembling, soft, braless and enormous bosom beyond which he could see her gleaming eyes knowingly looking down at him with a mysterious Mona Lisa like smile… the hint of her puffy nipples through the thin (to her) sleepshirt fabric and her breath, sweet as honey washing over him even as she kissed his midsection… and she did significantly more than that, leaving him as dazed, excited and confused as he had ever been.

Those were mildly modified flashback dreams of the incident itself, but he had, increasingly often, dreams of things she did not manage or dare to do to him then… and in the dreams, he was not always powerless to resist her advances, but sometimes he made advances of his own… like spying on her and roaming her house, watching her unseen while she went about unaware, half-naked, or climbing into her bed, looking at her humongous naked curves only partially covered with her blanket, illuminated by the rising alien sun, and her lovely, but titanic, peaceful sleeping face with lightly parted lips.

But he was, even now when he marched, one tiny step at a time in an oversized landscape, towards her, not sure if it was love at first sight or an unhealthy obsession… what, after all, could he offer with his, to her, diminutive self that just about any other giant man in the planet could not do better a hundred times over? She had been, after all, gentle, if teasing and had willingly, if timidly and reluctantly at first, helped them escape a cruel fate and released them to freedom, something NO other giant ever had done on his or her own. Also, there was not THAT much of an age difference.

Although he was not sure of the exact equivalencies, she was over eighteen earth years old and in full womanhood; he was 31 and had not crushed on any girl this hard not even in his teens, there had been plenty fooling around in his day, though. Zava seemed also more than a little experienced with men. But, when his thoughts wandered in her direction, in the end, disheartening, he shook his head and mulled over than he would be to her little more than a pet or a toy she would eventually tire of… he could never protect her, cuddle with her or embrace her… where would he live? In her underwear drawer? In a terrarium in her nightstand?

Being only like 10 cm tall in her scale, he could not even sleep with her in bed without the danger of being smothered under titflesh, buttflesh or tummyflesh if she rolled over him, or crushed or at least be heavily injured in an innocent sleepy trashing of her slender body that nonetheless weighed upwards of several dozen tons, or be thrown off the bed by a flailing of a giant-boned limb, no matter how shapely; or worse, inadvertently stepped on someday by her slender toed foot or carelessly sat on and crushed by her mammoth fanny.

More humiliatingly were more mundane thoughts, he sometimes had (when, embarrassingly, he had to use the privy and was alone with his thoughts, which unerringly wandered to her as always when he was on his own), as he mused that, to her, he was even smaller than a tiny snack she would normally eat in between meals (she could probably easily fit him in his mouth, but thankfully, he was not small enough for her to swallow him whole), or even that he was likely smaller than what would come out of her rear end after digesting such snack, an act even more disturbing to contemplate when he thought of it at her scale.

One recurring nightmare had him somehow falling into her toilet, where he swam hopelessly until he saw her lumbering form arrive, pull down her pants, and before he could even catch sight of her pert rear, she  would squat over him, blocking most light, unaware of his presence, to relieve herself over him, his horrified cries for help being masked in what for her was surely only a moderate amount of liquid being released from her massive innards, splashing in an appallingly thick stream over him, and then being flushed out without her face ever looking at him swirling to his untimely demise in the giant loo, his last sight her hand coming between her now lightly spread legs, wiping herself with some paper she soon discarded in the bowl, and her towering silhouette standing up to button back her pants far above and only the underside of her chin, and her legs and ass being visible, while uncaringly walking away from sight to wash her hands, without even catching a last glance from her eyes before the deep and the darkness of the house’s plumbing took him into oblivion.

He thought often also, and was as ashamed as she was elated when he often recalled of the actual incident when she had overpowered him with just her two fingers pinching him down there and played with him; after, his dark pants had dried enough from his loins’ explosion to (he hoped) not make it obvious when he was later finally reunited with Betty, who tactfully (and thankfully) did not witness it (or did she perhaps overhear her booming voice teasing him?) and did not probe him about what had transpired between him and the cinnamon-skinned giantess, and refrained also to tell the story to their crewmates.

All members of the crew, after all, had perturbing experiences of their own to deal with when being found by the big people and most of the time they did not want to delve into the details afterwards. This time it was no different, and after being warmly welcomed back, he was directed again to the task of applying his not inconsiderable technical knowledge to trying to fix the ship, a task that he then thought was increasingly hopeless… that is, until a few weeks back when Valerie happened to find an entrance to an electronics warehouse where they could finally purloin some much-needed materials, like germanium, without getting caught for a change.

And after some tests, they finally had the reactor charging for a week. The last flight computer diagnostics had been all systems go and they knew now that they were ready to depart. They were only waiting for a calendar date in the giant people holidays that usually involved a huge, city wide fireworks celebration event before dawn that they thought would cover their exit into low orbit and when the authorities would be too busy to intercept them until they were outside the atmosphere and could warp home; they used the time they had to steal and hoard some foodstuffs for the trip home. As he helped with these final tasks, nobody seemed to suspect his traitorous thoughts.

But confronted with his imminent departure from the extra-terrestrial planet, Mark found he could not take it anymore.  To his bemusement, he ultimately realized he did not want to leave, never again seeing the colossal dark-haired and bronze-skinned young alien beauty; he actually had kind of promised Zava they would meet again, hadn’t he? So, he decided, after being sure that they would be ok on their own, he would abandon his companions for good and take his chances with her. He finally made up his mind, packed all his things in a rucksack, girdled himself with a machete-like bush knife, and with no other weapon (he thought of carrying his rifle, but he decided against it, his companions would probably need it more), he left his crewmates in the middle of the night, two days before takeoff, leaving an admittedly short farewell note in the ship’s log for his marooned companions to find: ending in a laconic “Do not wait for me; I will not be coming back”, without giving any more clues of his mission to avoid a misguided rescue attempt.

Since it was Zava who took them then from her house to the edge of the woods where the ship was hidden, Mark was more than a little unsure he could find his way back to Zava’s dwelling, because the perspective from her hand then was quite different from the one he had now, much closer to the ground. He got lost as a building he remembered had been demolished in the interim, and it was now a vacant lot overgrown with weeds, and he had taken a wrong turn.

In the end night had caught up with him and he had to camp in an alley; the next day he went to the top of a (relatively ) tall nearby five-story building to get a better view, which took him the best part of a whole day to get to the roof and later back down to the street. When he was on top of the building, he finally saw a big purple-flowering alien tree he remembered was near her house. If he got to the tree, he was sure he could find her lodgings from there.

The next day, at dawn, he began the ten-mile hike to the tree. He finally made it and from there he saw, across the street, half a block away, a stairway that conduced to Zava’s tiny student apartment, which he remembered was in a second floor. There weren’t that many giant people around, as it was early in what he knew it to be the equivalent, in the giant’s society (which had eight alien day “weeks”), of a late early Saturday evening, but as he would have to cross the street, afraid to be caught in the open when he was so close to his goal, he did not want to take any chances and decided to wait hidden beneath the tree’s gnarled roots and approach Zava’s house later in the night, so he camped there and treated himself to a few protein rations, and barricaded himself in a burrow he found.

Tired, he managed to drift into an uneasy slumber, not before setting an alarm in his wrist body-computer-watch for roughly 3 hours before the alien dawn). Asleep in his hole, physically and emotionally spent, he slept through the whole racket of the volley of fireworks, did not notice the sonic boom generated by the Spindrift getting into orbital velocity and even missed seeing his quarry arrive.

Zava finally made it home, bone tired, after an all-nighter (equivalent) Saturday-night party with some new girlfriends she met at college. After finding, to her shocked surprise, that her childhood friend, Millan, had grown from a slightly spoiled and willful child she was always in the shadow of, to a veritable psychopath that would be even capable of murder and torture when she thought she could get away with it (which was particularly easy if the victim was a tiny person), they had parted ways forever. Now in college, she had slowly overcome her natural shyness and indecisiveness after quickly making some new friends and had found herself also accosted by not always unwelcome attention of her male peers and seniors, much more numerous, diverse (and way hotter and more interesting) in college that they ever were in her high school district, where the jealous Millan kept everyone at bay, male or female.

In the new and exciting college environment, where she was more busy than ever with her studies (she was majoring in the relatively new field of electronic engineering) and exciting social life, she thought it to be the perfect place and occasion to forget all about the tiny man who had not left her head since she had set eyes on him besides the tiny Betty and all her equally diminutive and cute friends; even in that first encounter, she had unconsciously singled him out, as a braver fella than the other tinies, with a sense of possession and certainty she never associated with herself until she left the company of her much more assertive, now former friend Millan, he wanted to have Mark for her and hers alone. Betty and Mark would never know the titanic effort of will needed to let them, particularly Mark, go free; she was sorely tempted to go back on their promise to release them and let go of Betty only, keeping Mark as her own forever. Only the consideration that she did not want to be a monster in his eyes and the unbearable thought of seeing Mark looking up at her in horror, fear and loathing as a kidnapper and a giant abuser, and more than a little remorseful for intimately touching him without his express consent, gave her the inner strength she needed to do what she knew it to be the right thing and give the little man his freedom. He had kind of signaled when they parted that they could meet again (she was not sure anymore  if he had really said that or if she had imagined or dreamed that part afterwards), but ever since that day, other than the occasional and increasingly rare mention in the news, she had not seen the slightest sign of the little people, which had become much more careful and elusive that they ever were… unless they were already captured by the Special Investigations Department or met any other untimely end… or perhaps they already left the planet, never to be seen or heard of again, separating her and Mark for ever by the endless void of space, still beyond the bounds of her giant race, much less technologically advanced than the little people. Neither of these imaginings left her feeling particularly cheerful, either. As a matter of fact, last night after midnight, after the holidays fireworks volley din finally dwindled outside of the bar where she was drinking and dancing with some friends, when a TV screen over the bar flashing with a breaking newscast caught her attention. Her friends continued her partying oblivious as she saw and listened, mouth agape, at reports of an enormous thunder and blue streak heading into the sky that was witnessed and recorded by a local camera crew covering the celebrations over the Tabor woods, near where she had left Betty and Mark several months before.  A similar, but red event had been associated with the first sightings of the little people, who were rumored to be alien invaders; she in fact had confirmed chatting with Betty that they were indeed from another planet, but not invaders; rather some poor people, probably less than ten, stranded in her planet as their starship malfunctioned and had no choice but to land in the closest habitable sphere they could reach. This probably meant that the tiny aliens finally found some way of fixing their spacecraft and had departed for their homeworld, for good. Unexpectedly, she came to the sudden and inescapable intuition that indeed that was it! The little people, and Mark with them, had left forever!! And he never tried to contact her… Her knees buckled, and she barely made it, trembling like a leaf, to a nearby stool, where, she plopped, heart racing, a hand in her bosom. Her vision had reduced to a narrow tunnel and she fought back a swoon, with all her will, gripping the seat of the stool until her knuckles cracked, her eyes glued to the screen nobody was paying attention to, until it blurred with overflowing tears that came unbidden and unstoppable while she barely stifled a wail that threatened to escape from her trembling mouth, with both hands. Now she understood the phrase “rock your world”. Until that moment, she had been in self-denial and entertaining a secret and unconscious aspiration of seeing the little guy again, but now she was under the full weight of the realization that she cared about him more than she ever thought rationally possible… and now those hopes were utterly shattered. Of course, he left in that ship! The only reason he wouldn’t be on it was if he was prevented by doing so by capture or death, both of which was even more horrible to contemplate than him leaving for the stars, literally! Fighting the knot in her belly and throat, over a thousand-fold more terrible than the last time she saw Mark when she also cried, she raced to the ladies’ room, where she thankfully found an empty stall, where she dashed, turned the latch and plopped on the lid of the toilet seat, trembling with bone-wracking sobs that brought home a crushing sense of loneliness and despair…. they would NEVER meet again, and it was likely her fault and no one else’s. She was locked in there for a long, long time…

After a while, she managed to reign in her emotions, and reclined in the seat, looking at the ceiling, her eyes unfocused, her sight turned inwards. Her unexpected and totally involuntary, yet undeniable and uncontainable reaction had shook her to the core; she had never been of a fainting, neither nervous nor choleric disposition, but rather calm and perhaps a little too laid back for her own good until she focused her will and life energy into her studies at college. What right had her to be so attached to Mark? How did that happen? They had only met for like a day… It is true she had been more than a little pushy with him, going beyond what she had ever dared to do with a regular sized boy, much less a grown (though pint-sized) man, but with little Mark, it had been impossible to resist the temptation to give in to her urges; that time, she barely, just barely, restrained herself from ripping his pants off; she was not sure then (although she was now) what she would have done with him if he had gazed at him naked in all his glory in her hand and utterly in her power.  When she had made him, to her delight, squirm with involuntary pleasure under her relentless but (she hoped) gentle fingers and probing mouth, he was sullen and quiet, and, she thought, with a mix of thrilling exultation and more than a little mortifying self-consciousness, that he was more than a little scared of her (which was not her intention at all)… had she hurt him? He felt so delicate in his hands, like a little bird...perhaps she had gone too far. That time, she closely watched him after he cleaned himself to determine if he was lame or stiff when walking, but he seemed to be as limber as ever, not that the little proud fool would display any weakness before her, anyway, but she avoided trying to handling him until she got Betty, she could not bear seeing him recoil from her; indeed he didn’t, submitting meekly to being picked later together with his companion Betty into her eager hands; the more she touched his warm, tiny but firm body, the more she wanted to keep fondling him. He felt so good writhing between her fingers!

Maybe his parting words (if he really said them) of a possible future meeting were only uttered to convince her to release him and Betty, him sensing her unwillingness to let them go from her grasp. He probably would have said anything that would get him and Betty far, far away from her hulking frame and her prodding fingers. His last sight of him and his little female friend heading into the scrub had been also blurred by tears, as she turned away from them and half-ran, half-walked home, feeling lonelier than she ever had been and feeling like a hole had just been bored into her heart by an ice-cold drill, leaving a gaping hole where the gnawing cold of loneliness and remorse went through like a chill. Would she ever see them, and specially Mark again?

That first evening, as she made it home, she undressed and plopped in her bed sighing, unable to take her mind off Mark and recalling all that had happened between them. Thankfully, she had graduated from high school a few weeks earlier, because she was so distracted thinking of Mark that she doubted she would have been able to focus on anything. In the coming days, she daydreamed of him continuously, and in the coming weeks and months, she was always looking around her feet when she walked home, her eyes darting here and there to the ground each time she passed an alley, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mark or any of the little people that could guide her to him, but she only saw rats, lizards and bugs scurrying around. She avoided, though, going into the woods where she left the little couple, as she of course did not want to go with Millan (they latter had their final fight and avoided each other) and she was very wary of being alone in the woods on her own… she had heard hobos and winos lurked there sometimes and although she was not petite and quite fit she nonetheless did not want to find out if she was a match against a man in a struggle if one (or more than one!) corralled her at knifepoint or decided to wrestle her down. Later, at class, or at home watching TV or reading, she often zoned out of what she was doing and fantasized that Mark had sneaked into her house to meet with her, or that she had him right there in her pocket… or under her skirt, if she was wearing one.  Variations of this were a recurring theme in her dreams as well, leaving her very disappointed when she woke up and Mark was nowhere to be seen.  And these were only the tamest dreams she had, and only at the beginning, because as days became weeks, and Mark or his tiny friends failed to make an appearance, her dreams became more urgent, more vivid and more lurid. In the day, at class for instance, she often blushed involuntarily when recalling such dreams. Thankfully, she was relatively dark-skinned and the change in color was not very evident (she hoped). And the heat in her face was mirrored in much nether regions as well.

Sometimes she regretted and more often she was relieved that she had not tried to take things any further that fateful night when he was, quite literally, in her hands, because she really, really had wanted to and perhaps only Betty’s presence in the nearby bathroom had prevented her to fully have her way with the little guy. She remembered when she had him walking on her lap, tickling her tummy, and she joked, as he mocked her for being “only a child”, that he was very close to… down there… and indeed having her around that part had made her very, very excited, tingling all over and particularly down south more than she ever had; she even was very aware of her nipples poking against her sleepshirt and was sure Mark had noticed and was trying, unsuccessfully, not to stare at her chest. His continued defiance had finally made her more than a little bold and reckless. Besides, she never had touched a man down there (she only had kissed some boys in the mouth in years past and some were bold enough to try to fondle her breasts, but she never encouraged them beyond that  and stopped making out if she felt things were getting out of control) nor had she seen a man naked besides some furtive glances to dirty mags sneaked in school by giggling classmates, and she never dared to buy one herself for a more careful inspection, as most magazine and news stalls salesmen were mostly, well, older Men; she had resorted, however, to covertly gawk at color plates of naked men in anatomy and art books in hidden recesses in the library, but in them, the model poses were dissapointingly stilted and invariably with flaccid, smallish members, and she had heard (and confirmed when manhandling Mark into arousal), that manhoods could grow much larger and stiffer when aroused than when they were flopping limply between an unaroused man’s legs; she now knew that she liked cocks much better when hard, up and ready for her gentle ministrations.

The problem with trying one on, however, was that, even more after meeting Mark (a real astronaut, for crying out loud!) she found boys immature and tiresome and preferred older men, but as until recently she was a minor, it was not appropriate to involve herself with older males.

Sometime in the weeks after last seeing him, she started going over her time with Mark and she started thinking of the things she had done to Mark from his point of view, and the conclusions she came up with were more than a little disturbing. How would SHE react if a strange 100 feet man grabbed her in his giant hand, fondled her privates and ripped her clothes off, leering at her and ultimately violating her with his ungainly fingers and mouth, bringing her to an unwanted but unstoppable climax in the palm of her hand? She felt her face hot with shame and her heart heavy with regret each time he thought of his treatment of Mark… she had, for all intents and purposes, RAPED him, and planned then (but thankfully decided against) using him for her own pleasure! No wonder he could not wait to get away from her, and why the hell would he want to meet her again, her, her RAPIST! How could she have done that to him?! If she ever met him again, she planned to apologize and make it up to him. She would do anything he asked so he could forgive her!

At other times when considering that, her thoughts wandered in another direction: she remembered one time while in middle school when her parents had taken her to a wildlife park. She enjoyed the trip but vividly remembered the intense smell of the large mammals they saw, and particularly that of a great plains, four legged herbivore which was over 18 feet high at the back. It towered even over the park’s special truck she and her family were cruising on, protected from the animals by wire mesh, which freely let pass the air that wafted from the creatures that surrounded them. Even from more than 20 feet away, the stink of the wild hulking beast was overpowering, to say the least. It was not that bad a smell, but there was A LOT of it. And, compared with Mark, she was a lot bigger, more than ten times than that beast had been to her… did he find her natural scent too intense or unpleasant? She certainly, when she grabbed him and held him to her face, caught a whiff of a not unpleasant masculine smell she liked about him… And she supposed that he would be able, upsettingly, to see the tiniest skin blemishes, pores, hairs, moles (not that she had many), pimple scars, etc. Maybe that was why he was so dismissive… maybe she did not see her as a young comely woman (she knew she was not beauty-pageant-level, but the mirror said she was very easy on the eyes) but as some kind of smelly, unwieldy, coarse being with bulging eyes and rope-like hair grasping at him with disturbingly strong paws that squeezed too hard in the wrong places with crude tree-trunk like fingers in an iron grip, threatening to grind his bones to powder on a whim?  And what about when she had him in her lap? Did he smell her then increasing arousal through her shorts and her panties below? And how would Mark react to see her giant, completely naked body, and her hairy, damp crotch looming in front of or above him (she knew she could become QUITE wet down there at times)? If the roles were reversed she thought she would faint at the mere sight of her giant sex so up close and personal, not to mention the scent, or rather, to him, reek of her crotch, she thought, blushing furiously. And sometimes her mind wandered even more…. For instance, what about farts? Although she was not particularly prone to them, they did happen and she imagined he would be able to smell (and hear!!) even the slightest one from across the room! Did he hear her stomach and guts rumble, her joints creak and her blood flow in her giant veins when he was held against her body?

Did he see the veins in her eyeballs pulse sickeningly when she held him close to her eyes? And what about her breath? She also remembered how he was shocked into silence when she overtly squeezed her boob over him when she had him in her lap and he called her a “child”. She now was old enough to take male attention and admiration for granted; she was actually very proud of her breasts and she knew theirs were quite shapely and pert and well but not too well endowed, but maybe Mark was disgusted and shocked of having giant, to him mottled, misshapen and grotesquely enlarged (and perhaps even malodorous) mammary appendages thrust into his face? And she remembered when she had found Betty and Mark hiding in the alley… she had open pumps on her feet… she remembered seeing Betty recoil from her giant looming form… or was it from her smelly feet? Did Betty not mention anything during their later chat out of politeness or fear of offending a giant ogre of a woman? She remembered being more than a little amused at first at the squeaky voice of Betty and the only slightly less squeaky voice of Mark when they first met… she could barely hear them the first time she saw them at her feet, and had to kneel to bring them into hearing. Did they find HER voice too low-pitched and unlady or unwoman-like, even troll-like in its loudness and coarseness? In fact, one of the reasons she did refrain from touching herself in front of or indeed touching herself WITH Mark that time she had him, before she had the time or the inclination to ponder on the notion that Mark might not think of her as a desirable woman, but as some kind of monster, was because she was self-conscious of a poorly stifled moan being heard by Betty, which Zava had noticed flinched when she talked too loud that time in the alley with Mark. To these poor little people such womanly moan would be even louder than for Zava were the bellows of one of the giant, smelly beasts she had also heard in the Wildlife Park. She remembered how she started, to their parents amusement, when the creature emitted those too loud and unexpected noises back then… and again, to the little people she was much bigger than the beast was to her … was she, then, a monster to them? And especially, to Mark? She could not stand the notion of being shunned by him as a blotchy, bumbling, gross raping giant woman from a nightmare… did he ever think of her other than in his worst nightmares?

She regretted not having had the wisdom sooner to ask Betty directly about some of these things when she could but now was too late. Or… was she perhaps overthinking this stuff? Was it worth it to spend so much mental energy in a man that would perhaps never think of her or only think of her as an enormous, unrelatable beast, a giant abuser no different from all the other lumbering, persecuting giants he had encountered in this alien planet? And what It did all these worries matter if he was gone from her to an impossibly far, utterly unreachable star! Would she ever get over him? They had barely talked! Where did this damned infatuation come from?!  These and more random musings made her head whirl when she allowed herself to indulge on them. As the months passed, she tried to focus on her studies to stifle these likely idle thoughts, succeeding only partially and, as they resurfaced each time she found herself alone and idle, she tried to keep herself vehemently busy, lest his tiny face intrude into his thoughts, and it always did, in the end; one can only study so much.

These thoughts and remembrances came back and spun in her head as she was seated in that toilet seat, her head in her hands, her elbows propped on her spread knees, trying to come to terms with her losing Mark forever, without having the chance to say sorry, at least, but there was also so much she wanted to tell him.. so much she wanted to ask him...

She was shaken out of her reverie by Yaeer, one of her new classmates, lightly knocking on her stall door.

“Zava, mate, are you in there? One of the girls told YorJees  you ran for the bathroom like the devil was after you!”

“It’s OK, Yar, never mind, I thought I had the runs after I ate that shrimp dish, but I’m OK”, she lied, and relieved to hear her voice way steadier than she thought it would come out, she added. “Gimme five and I will be out, OK?”.

“No problem”, said her girlfriend.  But do not take too long in there, people will think you’re smoking a joint!  Or rubbing one out! “ she said, only half-jokingly.

“I’ll be out soon, but I think I’ll be going home, I don’t think I am in any condition to stay here, getting a little tired and sleepy, actually”.

“Right. Want me to call you a cab?”

“Please! Thank you Yarr!”. Once the receding sound of her friends steps told Zava that she was alone, she got out of the stall to rearrange her hair and bangs in front of the mirror, cleaned herself a bit, and hoping that in the gloom of the bar they did not notice her reddened eyes  (giving more credence to the rumor that she was doing drugs in the bathroom, which would get her in trouble if word of it ever reached a SID operative, and there were plenty around), she finally left the restroom and reunited with the other guys.

The rickshaw-taxi arrived a little later and that is how she arrived home a bit after midnight; somewhat tipsy after drinking too many beers in succession after she got out of the restroom to be teased by her friends, she continued her brooding during the ride home, responding to the cabbie’s attempts at conversation only with barely polite one-worders. While she climbed the steep stairs to her home, little did she know that the little guy that caused all this inner stir, the one she thought could be already light years away, was sleeping like a log not 100 feet from her home, and coming to meet her. The taxi driver drove away slowly, watching the slender and shapely form of the young, short-haired brunette in a white mini-skirt and sandals gracefully climbing the stairs two at a time, statuesque legs flashing under the moonlight. The radio was saying something of a blue ray streaking across the southern sky earlier, accompanied by a loud boom that shattered some windows. People were talking of UFOs and little invading aliens.

The silent, vibrating alarm of his PDA finally woke Mark. Thankfully, the region of this world where the Spindrift had landed was a relatively high valley in the middle of a mountain range in the tropics, so he was only a little cold, but the rest had done him good. He got up, re-packed his rucksack, and after drinking a little water from a bladder, he undid the barricade on the burrow’s mouth and got out to peer at the now empty and silent street. He not only had to worry about discovery (or being stepped on) by plodding giants (in his experience, children were especially pesky as they were way more observant of their surroundings than adults were), but also he had to be on the lookout for cars, bikes, cats and dogs and of course, birds of prey like hawks by day and owls at night. The most perilous part was now ahead of him, as he had to cross a wide street, and he’d be horribly exposed during the crossing, but there was no way around it. The block Zava lived in was an island between streets. He darted from the tree, covering the sidewalk towards the base of a light post in a dash.

One of the disadvantages of getting around while being so small in a city inhabited by giant beings was that being very near to the ground got you closer to smelly litter on the streets, even smellier giant droppings from giant animals and, as in the case of the surroundings of the post, splash from urine from giant dogs, the stains of which Mark avoided studiously while he approached the colossal octagonal concrete rod; the last thing he needed was to meet Zava soiled with dog piss. The street was silent and seemingly deserted. No cars or motorcycle lights were evident nearby. Mark realized probably the best way to cross, as per past experiences, was to hop down from the sidewalk to sprint as fast as he could the 100 meter-wide street and then climb to the other sidewalk, and sprint for cover from there. He already saw across a small, squat bush in bloom near the stairway to Zava’s place that he could hide under. Taking a last look to both sides of the street and seeing and hearing no one and nothing, he carefully jumped the two meters down to the tarmac and sprinted across as if his life depended on it, which it probably did; as he started running he thought he heard a blaring siren in the distance.

As he was nearing the middle of his mad dash across the road five seconds later, he saw, with the corner of his left eye, a pair of lights turning a corner and appearing still a bit away and the booming siren (was that the SDI? Had someone spotted him and reported?) of a patrol car approaching at breakneck speed, in what to Mark would be several hundred kilometers per hour. The black silhouette and the headlights became larger in fractions of a second, the siren earsplittingly loud now and he just had made it to the yellow line in the middle of the road and still close to 50 meters to go… he tried to run faster but he was at his limit already… near panicking, he saw the car almost upon him, its color indistinct, Mark could only see a looming dark gigantic shape approaching… and to his horror he realized that, for whatever reason, the car was not keeping to the right lane, but was cruising in the middle of the road!  Adrenaline helped him squeeze a bit more speed from his pumping legs; he ran and looked straight ahead, as there was no point in trying to duck or dodge the incoming wheeled behemoth… he just hoped the driver had not seen him and that he made it out of the course of the giant tires in time or he was done for.

With a deafening roar of its mammoth engine and a whoosh, the car sped past him. The air it displaced in its passing swept Mark out of his feet and propelled him forward. The turbulence turned him around in the air and he landed on his ass, getting the wind half knocked off his lungs. He laid there for a few seconds, stunned and unable to stand, as the ululating racked blazed away. He was now only twenty meters away from the curb. He rose to his feet slowly, moving every limb gingerly to check nothing was broken. Besides his scrapped hands, only his pride was hurt. Walking slowly, he closed the distance to the curb, and climbed it huffing and puffing, then jogged to the bush he had spotted before, his heart still racing. He got there and stopped under cover of foliage, bent over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. Once again, as if often happened with him and his now former crewmates, what should have been a simple task as crossing a street became a death defying experience, because everything here was so damn big.

 Once he recovered a bit, he came up a little out of the bush and stared up at the 50-meter stairs going up the second floor and to Zava’s doorstep. This was NOT going to be an easy climb, but as the house and the stairs were a little away from the street and in a kind of recess in the block, he would not feel or be so exposed to the prying eyes of a giant passerby.

About half an hour later, panting again, he made it to the second floor, climbing the last of the twenty-six steps, arriving at a small, white tiled landing; dawn was breaking. Looking to his left into the hallway, he, to his dismay, saw that there were two numbered doors there… which was Zava’s? He was too worried and upset when entering it in Zava’s hands, and too dumbfounded with conflicting emotions when leaving it after spending the night there; then, Zava had carried them out in a small purse to avoid anyone seeing them and informing the SID, which would have put not only them, but even Zava in serious trouble. As he stood in the entrance to the apartment row, looking in turn from one doorstep to the other, puzzled, a new worry crept into his mind as he suddenly spotted a glaring hole in his plans: He, who prided on thinking of everything when making any plan and being detail oriented to the point of anal-retentiveness, had been this time so obsessed and single-minded, that even after months of moping, he forgot to think of things as simple as the fact that Zava might not even live here anymore; she had taken for granted that she would be there, waiting for him. BUT, he now realized with a sinking feeling, he had heard her mention to Betty, as the two girls chatted before sleep, that she was about to enter college; on Earth, and particularly in his home country, it was often the case that young people left their hometown (sometimes hundreds or thousands of miles away) for the big city to attend Universities. If that was the case and she had moved away, she was lost to him, as it was not like he could ask the neighbors! And even if he might by any miracle find the name of the University she attended, how would he find the location (he could not go to the library and ask for a phone book or an encyclopedia either, and even if he got to the right shelf, he doubted he could even get the heavy tome out of there and open it), and more to the point, how would he travel there to find her? Going to a bus terminal or an airport to sneak into a bus or plane in a place full of hundreds of clomping giants, giant police and huge moving vehicles was a recipe for disaster. And if a trek of a few giant miles like the past few days was an expedition on its own, what would it be, in this giant alien world, to travel alone through hundreds or perhaps thousands of miles of hostile country? Impossible! He felt his shoulders slump (maybe if he managed to steal some money he could buy a couple of stamps, a box and some tape and mail himself in a parcel, he thought with an inner sad chuckle).

But he was getting ahead of himself. Perhaps she was still there!  He started walking to the nearest door…. As he did, another worry that had been lurking there popped up in his already muddled head: a young woman as attractive as Zava would not spend much time alone, maybe she had gotten a boyfriend already! How ridiculous would he feel if he appeared now, after half a year, and she had already been committed to a man her size, much larger and stronger (and less broke) than a doll-man like him? He had put all his eggs in this business of finding Zava, and perhaps, much unlike him, he had plunged in a situation way over his head with way too many things that could go wrong (he had a plan for the broke part,though). After all, even without a boyfriend, she could still laugh at him and send him packing, that is, if she did not just as easily get rid of him by calling the authorities (there was a reward for capturing little people), or even worse, as Zava had jokingly suggested that time, she could decide to keep Mark as simply a pet, in a cage or a vivarium, treating him like a small, defenseless animal she could ignore at will or take out to play when she felt like it, while she kept on with her life with big persons that for her were real and not dismissible doll-men.

But the ship had literally sailed, in his case. By now the Spindrift would be well out of reach. There was not going back, so trusting to the same luck that had kept him alive and free for the last three years in this planet, he got to the nearest doorstep and contemplated how to make his entrance. The huge black metal door seemed to be quite tight and there was no way to get under it even as his size. No windows on this side of the apartment. Getting a little away from the door, which he saw was knob-less with a rather small, flush keyhole, he looked even higher to see a doorbell button, a small ornate bronze doorknocker in the center and what seemed to be some kind of extractor fan a little above the door and to its right. Based on past experiences when sneaking into giant buildings, this seemed to be his best shot at entering the premises, if it was not for the fact that the fan was over 30 meters above his head. Although he had some knotted rope and a collapsible grappling hook in his backpack, he knew that a 15-meter-high throw was the best he could manage in a good day, so the fan was well out of reach; knocking on the door was also not a good idea, it was likely he would not be even heard and what if this was not Zava’s apartment? Now, he knew that these kinds of apartment rows usually had a balcony opposite to the side of the building the entrance door was on. He walked back to the stairs, and surely enough, he discovered to the left of the stairs below the railing, that there was a small ledge protruding from that side of the building. Approaching carefully, he saw that the ledge seemed to go all the way to the opposite side of the building and possibly around into the balcony area. The ledge was about a meter wide (to him), slightly sloping (presumably so water and muck did not accumulate on it) from the building down and looked to a narrow alley and a hedge below. It did not seem too difficult to traverse the ledge, and the only obstacles were some dry leaves swept there from the neighboring trees and stuck to the ledge by the lingering damp of the cool night. If he were to slip and fall, however, although the gravity in this planet was only about 70% that of Earth, he was pretty sure that plummeting to the ground 50 meters below would be almost certainly fatal. Steeling himself, he took off his backpack, he strapped it to his chest and stepped carefully into the ledge, testing with his feet for slippery patches.

After a couple of minutes with no major incidents he traversed the full length of the ledge, finding a drain pipe that went sideways from the adjacent balcony to the ledge, he squeezed through, dragging his backpack behind him, and found himself in the balcony itself. Looking up (where else?) he saw a strange horizontal circular contraption hanging from a pole mounted high across the balcony. From it, several undergarments were hanging down, presumably to dry, gently swaying like giant flags in the light morning breeze. With deep relief, he saw that they belonged to a female, but was it Zava? The next balcony, visible from his position to his right, had no such visible signs of occupation. The balcony’s sliding doors were open, but a mesh screen prevented the entrance of bugs or small critters (like me, he thought wryly) through the door. He tried to move the sliding mesh panel, but it would not budge, as from his position so down below he could not get the necessary leverage, or it was secured up there, he could not be sure. Resigned, he got his knife out of its sheath; it slode out noiselessly.

“Well, Zava, I promise I will pay for o at least try to mend later what I’m about to do right now, sorry for this…”. After a slight hesitation, he plunged the razor-sharp blade into the mesh at slightly above head-height and, with a smooth downwards motion, he cut a vertical slit all the way down to the frame of the mesh screen, then turning the knife sideways to his right and cutting another meter in that direction before withdrawing the knife and sheathing it back. He then turned aside the gap so created and entered the apartment, backpack in his hand. 

Entering the still dark apartment, Mark listened intently for any signs of the occupant or occupants being up and around, but all was quiet. He left his backpack and machete in the still darker corner of the room nearest the balcony door, behind a chair. Then, coming from under the chair carefully, he looked around. Although visibility was still poor, It was getting noticeably less dark, and the dawn light was going to enter from the balcony door. Looking around, he managed to catch sight of a tall recessed wardrobe, now closed, a door to what was presumably a bathroom, also closed, and ahead of him a nightstand and a bed in front of it, blocking his view to the rest of the apartment. Crossing the eerily silent room, his footsteps resounded strangely, like in a cathedral, echoing in the corners, even. Looking around as he walked, he headed for the bed, which had short draping that would be out of his reach to climb on it, but instead of getting under it, he went in front, surrounding the footboard; in his experience, the underside of beds was usually dusty, not exactly fragrant and sometimes nasty surprises, like one pounder spiders, lurked underneath; nothing could be seen below it though, in the early dawn’s gloom, which afforded him no obvious clues if was indeed Zava who inhabited this apartment. Only a few trinkets and furnishings here and there around and above him confirmed him, beside the sighting of female undies outside, that the room was indeed enjoying female occupation, but not necessarily HER. At least, there seemed to be no sign of any man living here, to his relief. He planned to get on the bed or in the nightstand, where he was left last time while Betty and Zava were in the bathroom. He remembered a lamp was on the nightstand, with a cord running down, but to his disappointment it was nowhere to be seen. As he finished rounding up the giant queen-size bed, he looked at the nightstand, looking for a way to the top, but saw none; he was going to have to go back and get the grappling hook out of his backpack. He turned around to see if there was any way to climb up the bed from this side and froze…

There was a giant, car sized foot beside the bed. A smooth, shapely and slenderly muscled calf jutted above from an also shapely and lean, though oversized ankle, and he could see, looking upwards, part of a white skirt, pinned to the mattress by the giant leg. The sleeper, apparently a female, was completely motionless and silent; Mark could not even hear her breathe. Besides this, there was nothing on this side that could help him climb the bed, besides the very smooth leg which of course he could not mount, lest its owner kicked or stomped him to death without even noticing. He had to see if it was her! Turning from the foot, he jogged to get his backpack.

A while later, he returned with his grappling hook attached to a slender, knotted rope, to the side of the bed the foot was on. He approached the foot carefully from the side, not from the front, lest he be kicked by a twitch of its owner. In the now much less dim light, he observed the slender-toed, though jumbo-sized foot in front of him; its heel was slightly off the ground, resting lightly in her unpainted bit trim and well cared toes and the ball of her feet; he was barely eye level with her slightly protruding ankle bone; her calf was completely smooth: he could not see the slightest hint of hairs or pores, at least not in this light. He resisted the temptation to touch her foot and possibly elicit sudden movements from the giant woman, and looking around, he saw a pair of what apparently were panties crumpled beside a chair near the bed and flat, gladiator (though he supposed they were called differently here)-type sandals a little ways off, likely kicked off hastily of her feet. Neither of these things told him if this was Zava or not, but he felt he was on the right track.  He moved to near the headboard, swinging the grappling hook while he walked. He throwed it and it shot upwards, landing on the bed. He pulled lightly, and felt it slide and catch. He tested it with a few pulls; it seemed solid. He started climbing.

Grunting with the effort of climbing the more or less six meters, he was reaching sheet level when he felt the bed tremble. Looking aside, she saw the foot leave the ground and its owner emit a sleepy and, decidedly unladylike little grunt and a protracted exhalation. The bed springs creaked as its enormous and very heavy occupant turned and twisted, changing positions above, sheets swishing.  The bed kept creaking and wobbling like a ship at a high seas storm for a few seconds as she squirmed and then, finally, settled. Startled into immobility, he stopped climbing while all this took place. He waited for a few more seconds, arms burning with the effort; after nothing stirred above, he started climbing again, hand over hand; he managed only a couple of upward strokes when disconcerted, he felt the rope give and at the same time, a slight ripping sound; he managed to get hold of a small wrinkle in the sheet before the grappling hook came loose; he let the rope go to hold onto the sheet with both hands; the hook fell to the floor with a clang. He winced at the noise, but again nothing stirred above. “Just your luck, Wilson” he managed to mutter while, grabbing handfuls of the thick sheet fabric, he finished climbing; he was almost above.

When he made it on the top of the bed, he was greeted by a naked, hangar front-sized, very obviously female back, connected by a sloping and (comparatively) slim waist to a huge and curvaceous backside only partly covered by a much hitched up skirt and a black-mane of slightly disheveled mane of hair draped on the pillows; her colossal body was backlit by the golden light of the dawn. Looking down the bed, she saw she had her legs slightly tucked in a slightly fetal position, with her back relatively close to the edge of the bed he just climbed. His heart racing, he groaned as he realized that even now he could not be sure if this was Zava (why were not things easy for him, ever?). Looking to his left, he saw that there was a slight space between Zava’s head on the pillow and the headboard. Going the other way, although with potentially more enticing and promising visuals, was too far, too dangerous that she would twitch again and send him plummeting to the floor or worse, that she woke up and saw him looking up her skirt, not a very promising start for his much anticipated reunion with her. Looking down to the floor, he shrugged and sat on the bed, pulling off his shoes and socks and tossing them over the edge to the ground; it would not do to leave dirty footprints in the very clean white sheets and getting back down was now pretty much useless to worry about now, he got bigger problems to tackle first. Now barefoot, he got up and  headed for the headboard and her head; this was going to be risky, if this was not Zava there were a million ways this could end badly for him and about a hundred ways this could end badly for him even if it was her.

He easily climbed the soft pillow, and got near her head and her silky black hair; heat positively radiated off her head, along with a beguiling, womanly aroma… if his heart was racing before, now he was afraid it was about to burst out of his chest; he was now level with the crown of her head, in the two meter space left between it and the headboard; unable to contain himself, he reached to the pillow and softly, careful not to let the pulling motion reach her scalp, lifted a few strands between his fingers and tenderly ran his fingers off them. They were unimaginably soft, thought undoubtedly way thicker than “normal” human hair, of course, as she was roughly 15 times as big as he was. Letting go of her hair, he continued his way, legs trembling, until her nose and long eyelashes came into view. Turning aside from her face, he continued walking ahead to the next pillow in front of him, avoiding the overwhelming temptation to look at her face until he was a little far from her body, so he could get a better view. If he was too close he would not be able to take in her features fully and try to recognize her, she was way bigger than any face he had seen on any billboard, back on Earth. After he was close to the other edge of the bed, he stopped, his back still to her. Sweat was running down his back, his knees wobbled, his heart was lurching in his chest and his lungs were heaving, his mouth dry. This was undoubtedly one of the biggest moments of his life, a veritable watershed. If this giant woman was not Zava, he was out-and-out screwed, rudderless and now completely lost and utterly alone in an alien planet. BUT, if she was Zava, a new life, full of possibilities, lied ahead of him, as long as he managed not to fuck this up, and that could happen in a million subtle ways, too. After all, they knew very little of each other. With a deep sigh, steeling himself, he stopped dithering and in a sweeping movement, he turned around to look at the colossal sleeping head. Falling to his knees with a shudder of relief, he recognized the gorgeous giant features of his former captress.

Swaying a little, it had taken a few tries for the slightly drunk Zava to finally slide her key into the keyhole and open her apartment. She entered and closed the door behind her, already longing for her bed… almost stumbling, but like on autopilot, the beautiful, coppery skinned brunette crossed her tiny apartment’s living room and went straight for the bed. Dumping her small purse into a nearby chair, she pivoted on her heels and plunked backwards on her bed, springs and frame creaking, lifting a curvaceous leg to undo the straps of her sandals, her fingers dexterously loosening them and then repeated the operation with the other leg. She carelessly kicked the sandals free of her feet and then fell back on the bed, her feet still on the ground. Mechanically, she hitched out her blouse over her head, and then she took off her bra and tossed both to the same chair where her purse was. Then, lifting up her legs in the air, it was her light yellow panties time to go, and were also flung to the chair, but missed, hitting its side and then flopping to the white tiled floor; now clad only on her hitched up skirt, she did not notice… scooting back  and sideways a little on the bed, her legs spread, leaving one foot on the floor, she got busy caressing her sides from her hips up to the underside of her breasts on both sides, sliding her fingers languorously up and down, up and down. By the tenth stroke, she fell asleep, snoring lightly with her hands in her abdomen. She remained in that position, sleeping dreamlessly… for a while.

Suddenly, she woke up groggily, feeling in her head the throbbing, telltale palpitations of an impending hangover. She should not have drunk all those beers. Opening her eyes, he looked up at an unfamiliar and far away white ceiling; the light, with an eerie reddish hue, was too bright, she thought, or this is the worst hangover of my life… I did not drink that much, did I? She also noticed her ass and back felt very cold and uncomfortable, as she lied in what seemed to be a very hard, smooth and cool surface completely unlike her bed; the air, however, was kind of hot and stuffy, like a long-closed room. She tried to get up and disconcertingly, she found that she could not move any of her limbs, at all. Struggling uselessly while she looked franticly around, to her horror she saw that she was lying down in what appeared to be a large glass surface she could not see the ends of. Her arms were restrained at the wrist (and a good part of her forearm) by what she now saw was a generous and wide strip of, very strong, transparent adhesive tape, pinning her to the surface she was laying on. Straining to lift her head, she saw that she was spread eagle with her arms over her head and her legs apart, forming a kind of human “X” shape. Her ankles and part of her calves were also pinned with the same tape; she could see now, even more horrified, that she was stark naked, and she clearly could see her pubic hair patch peeking from between her unclad legs, below her unclad abdomen and her unclad tits, wobbling slightly from her struggles. After a while, she stopped squirming, as it was now clear there was not getting out of this on her own. And, with a deep sense of dread, she thought, whoever has gotten me into this was not going to let me out of this easily, not without having his way with me first. She was utterly helpless. The last memory she had was her getting into her apartment.

Zava spent some time like this, testing her puny strength against her bonds every once in a while, only to find they were just as tight as before; worse, she felt her bladder was about to burst; she really had to take a leak soon... She closed her eyes and tried to reign in her mounting panic. Suddenly, she heard very heavy breathing far above her, and the rustling of clothes. Opening her eyes, she saw amazed that a blond woman was stooping over her! The woman was wearing a white HAZMAT suit furnished with a helmet and a clear visor, like the astronauts she had seen in the movies. But startling as it was, it was even more astonishing that the woman was herself a giant! She had to be at least 100-foot-tall, but Zava only could see from her chest up to her face, and if she strained to look down her body and beyond it, she managed to see the giantess waist.  It was now clear to Zava that she was somehow on top of a giant desk or tabletop. The woman, who had more than a passing resemblance to her former friend Millan, regarded her coolly and fixedly with her gray, flat eyes. She had stern but young features; her hair seemed to be pinned back tightly to her giant head inside the giant helmet. Her hands were not visible, as she seemed to have them to her back while she stooped over the shivering Zava. Suddenly her enormous hands, clad with blue rubbery but close-fitting cloves, appeared. One hand rested on the table, partly supporting the giantess weight as she leaned closer, her face filling now Zava’s whole field of vision. The other hand of the giantess clutched lightly, in her tree trunk-sized fingers, a ten-foot-long white rod, more or less as thick as a broomstick, ending in a small flat knob. The giant woman then spoke questioningly, distressingly loud, in a language Zava could not understand, and the pole moved closer to Zava, who tried, unsuccessfully, of course, to get away from the rod. The colossal being waited, rod poised above Zava, like waiting for an answer. But Zava did not know what they wanted of her.

“I do not understand!” “Who are you?” “Let me go!”, she screamed, horrified as she could hear the panic in her own shrill voice as the full weight of the situation flattened her mind. The rod moved closer, touching Zava’s cheek just above her chin, forcing her head first to one side, and then to the other. Zava screamed, but the giantess did not react.

“What do you want?” She started to squeal, but could not speak further as the giantess inserted, shockingly, the end of the rod into Zava’s mouth, lightly moving it around but keeping into place, forcing Zava to choke on its rubbery tip, but soon it was removed. The giantess moved the pole away and rubbed it into a small glass tube she produced and then set on the table. Then she produced another identical but new rod and proceeded to probe one of Zava’s armpits. The procedure was repeated in her other armpit and then, to her escalating horror, a fourth rod was rubbed rather roughly into her pubic hair. All this was done in a clinical, straightforward manner, like a routine procedure at which the giant female was much used to.  But Zava’s tribulations were not over, for a fifth rod was produced.  But before doing anything else, the giant produced a small tube of some kind of clear gel, and dabbed the tip of the rod on it. And then, confirming Zava’s worst fears,  the woman got her face even closer to Zava’s, and, squinting in concentration, pointed the rod between Zava’s legs. Carefully, the woman rubbed Zava’s vaginal lips, delicately, with the small, now lubricated knob, prompting a shudder. Relentlessly, Zava felt the probe easing her labia apart and penetrating her. Not content with doing this, and as she had done with Zava’s mouth, the giant started rolling the rod around. Then, without taking the rod out, a gloved finger descended on Zava’s midsection and lightly pressed above her pubic hair, while keeping the rod in place; if her bladder felt like a beach ball before, now it felt like it was going to blow up from the mounting pressure of the giant finger, the rod and her rising fear. Zava screamed…

… And woke up anew, in her bed, her room, brightly illuminated by the rising sun peeking through her balcony window.  Shuddering, she realized it was only a dream, although a disquietingly real one. But now she was truly awake, alone as always, and the only thing that had not changed was the feeling that all those beers she had drank a few hour ago wanted out ASAP. She lied there on her back for a few moments, breathing deeply while looking at her familiar ceiling, scratching absently at the side of one of her breasts, itchy from the impression a sheet wrinkle left on it; What a nightmare I had! she thought. Serves me well for drinking so much. She did not feel any symptoms of a hangover, however, and she wanted to sleep some more, but as her bladder did not relent its protests, she reluctantly lifted her head and back from the sheets, swung her legs from the bed and prepared for going to the bathroom to relieve herself, stifling a lingering yawn while she stretched her arms over her face, but before she could push her ass off the bed, the bottom of her stomach fell out and she froze in place, a girlish yelp escaping her lips as she heard a voice  nearby call her name.

The sight afforded to Mark was gorgeous. It was indeed Zava the giant woman lying on her left side, facing Mark; her face was about eight meters from him. He could see that she was indeed topless, sleeping peacefully, her mouth slightly open, in a way he found both adorable and unbearably sexy; a little of her locks were falling over her face, not obscuring completely her closed eyes and lovely, flawless and youthful features. Her right arm was folded over her breasts, mostly covering hem or at least her nipples, which were not visible, her hand resting lightly on the pillow near her face. Her left arm was almost pinned below her body, stretched and her hand was between her legs, tucked in in a semi-fetal position, her knees peeking from under her white skirt; her chest swelled after each slow breath. This tableau was further enhanced by the reddish shine of the rising sun entering the window and making Zava’s skin glow as if she was a copper statue of a sleeping goddess. Wide eyed, Mark gaped from his kneeling position, taking her in and doing his best to engrave this moment in his mind. Whatever happened when she woke up and he confronted her, he wanted to make this memory his own; a traitorous though whispered to him that if it was not appropriate to take a picture, but he quelled it. He remained like that he knew not how many minutes, in an observation much resembling adoration, until he noticed that, as the sunlight reached her face, she was no longer completely still. Her hand twitched a little, her nails scraping lightly against the pillow as she closed her fingers in a loose fist, and her eyes were moving rapidly behind her eyelids, her eyes sometimes opening the smallest bit to show, somewhat unnervingly, a hint of the whites of her eyes. Mark noted she was getting somewhat agitated. A small whimpery noise escaped her lips as she started to frown, and the movement of her eyeballs became almost frantic and she tucked her legs in closer. Concerned, he rose and got a little closer to her face, her breath, stinking a little of stale beer and the sweet aroma of her wet mouth that he remembered washed over him with each exhalation, which were getting stronger. She bit her lower lip, frowning as if in pain, and then, unexpectedly, she rolled on her back, crossing her hands over her chest and kicking out with her legs, the violent movement rocking the bed and pushing the pillow Mark was standing on. He lost his footing and fell on his ass, but he avoided tumbling over to the bed grabbing at the pillow cover with her hands. This was a stark reminder of the perils of sharing a giant woman’s bed, especially when uninvited. He hoped he did not have to face, in the very near future, an indignant and decidedly powerful woman angry at him for sneaking in her room and stalking her like some kind of creep.

Looking back at her, she had started to breathe even more heavily and whimper more often, mumbling something under her breath he did not understand. He was about to call her name when, shockingly, she opened her eyes wide, blinking and looking to the ceiling above them, sighing deeply. Gawking again, completely taken by surprise, Mark was left speechless and almost shitless, paralyzed by the surprise awakening. Laying her left arm on the bed, Zava started to scratch absentmindedly at her left breast with two fingers, the soft flesh wobbling, her efforts leaving two small red, parallel marks on the side of her now naked boob. Crossing the hands again on her chest, and with the amazing energy and speed that always took Mark by surprise, not something one could expect on so massive a being, in fractions of a second she abruptly sat on the bed, swinging her legs off the right side of the bed, her back now to Mark. He heard her feet land on the ground with a fleshy thud, her arms stretched to the sky, fists closed, Mark could see, in the slight forward leaning of her body, that she was poised to launch her vast bottom off the bed and head God knows where. Recovering his wits, he again surprised himself by shouting: “ZAVA!”

She let go a surprisingly loud but brief and high-pitched little shriek, her back becoming ramrod straight, her hands flying to cover her chest. Hunching her shoulders a little, she looked around, seemingly confused, but maddeningly, not looking back at him, so he repeated again: “ZAVA!”. Flinching again, she covered her chest with one hand, and without turning her body, Zava swiveled her neck to look over her right shoulder at Mark, mouth ajar in an “O”, her hair partly falling over her widening right eye, her slender back looming above him. Heart lurching in his chest, Mark saw and felt her gaze land on him with an almost physical weight; again, he found himself thinking of her as goddess-like in her amazing loveliness at her larger than life scale; every one of her movements, and gestures, no matter how small, had an almost fairylike, unearthly and infinitely feline and feminine charm about them. However, again the sudden movement of her large person, however delicate, made him cower a little and he involuntarily gave a step back when she turned her head suddenly at him. She goggled at him, speechless; he, in turn, after retreating one step, felt his tongue tied. Every speech he had imagined, every clever word he had thought of and rehearsed in his mind now fled as he just stood there, staring like a fool. They remained stolidly like that for a few seconds.

 Zava was the first to react: turning her body fully towards him, but keeping her breasts covered by her right hand, bodily launched herself on the bed, adroitly supporting herself with her left hand on the mattress and landing on her belly to get her divine face just a few meters in front of Mark, who cringed even more as the colossal girl almost fell on him. Mouth now closed in a tight line, she looked at him fixedly for a bit, almost squinting her large, dark eyes. Gulping, Mark opened his mouth to speak but Zava again acted quicker than him, and before he could utter a word, she almost shouted:

“Mark! It is really you! What are you doing here?”

He’s really here! He actually came back! Zava thought agitatedly as the little man flinched and covered her ears after she dropped to his level and spoke, obviously too loud and too close; the last thing she needed was scaring the man away and covering him with spittle. She scooted back on her belly a bit, trying not to flash her tits at him, and covered her mouth with both hands, without taking her eyes off him, like fearing he would vanish with a pop; she was afraid to even blink. Annoyingly, laying on her belly made the urges of her bladder more evident…

“Sorry!” she said from behind her hands. “I mean, hello, how are you doing”, she said, befuddled. I sound like a moron. This time, the blond haired little man did not have the same white shirt and black pants he wore last time they met, and oddly, he was barefoot, not even socks on. He now wore some kind of dark blue cargo pants and short-sleeved shirt of the same color; his brawny forearms were clearly visible, she noted approvingly. She could see too that he was fighting his instinct to flee from her and that he was trying to pull himself together.

“Hello, Zava, yes, it is me. I said I would try to drop by again if I was in the area, didn’t I?” he finally said.

“Yes, but where are your little friends? Is Betty with you?”

“I’m afraid not, Zava, I am alone, here and in a lot of ways”. He added, grimly.

“What do you mean?” replied Zava, concerned. “Are your mates OK?”

“Oh! Yes, they are fine, I’m pretty sure, but…”

“But what? Do you need my help or something?” Man, I’m about to pee myself! He had to show up now, and I have no shirt, not even my panties on! I do not want him to leave or leave him out of my sight… What do I do?

“No, Zava. But I think we need to talk, I…”

“Just a second, Mark, I’m afraid I have to take care of something first, I can’t think straight”.

“What?” He said, eyes widening.

“I just woke up and I need to use the restroom, like, right now Mark, but I am afraid if I leave you alone you might disappear again…” she said, blushing and voice breaking. “I need you to promise me that you will be right there when I’m back”, it’s not like I can grab you and take you with me where and for what I am about to do, you know.

“O-of course, Zava, never fear, go ahead and do your business, I will be right here! Cross my heart and hope to die”. He said, assuringly. But seeing her alarmed face, eyebrows rising and widening eyes, he knew it was a faux pas… of course she would not get an Earth idiom. “I mean, I promise I’m not going to scurry away”. He then sat on the pillow, legs crossed, Indian style.

“Right” she said, not very convinced. She got out of the bed quickly backwards, without taking her eyes off Mark, her arm still across her chest, her other hand darting between her legs to pull her skirt down; He is too low there on the bed and this damned skirt is too short! Who knows what his little eyes can see from down there? But anyway, I guess, if he wanted to, he had time to get a good view of whatever he wanted to while I was asleep… how long had he been here, anyway? “I just wanted you to know, Mark, that I am very, very glad to meet you again… please, please don’t go!”, she added, pleadingly, looking him straight in the eye before turning his back hurriedly to him, and without giving him time to answer, she dashed for the bathroom, long legs flashing, Mark noted approvingly.

Once she locked herself in the bathroom, feeling a little foolish as there was no way Mark could open the door on her even unlocked, she had the presence of mind to turn on the faucet in the sink. She did not want Mark to hear the liquid streaming out of her splashing on the toilet. It was over quickly and afterwards, she looked herself in the mirror while she washed her face, the little eye liner she had put on last night (she never used much makeup as it made her eyes itch) a little run on her face. He had to see you like this, bed head, makeup running, face blotchy and eyes gummy and swollen… and with booze breath.. just my luck. She briefly considered taking a bath but decided against it, it would take too much time… she settled for brushing her hair and later her teeth. Is he still out there or perhaps he bailed on me already?  How long have I been in here? Putting also some deodorant on and spraying something of it, stinging between her legs, to dispel any lingering offending smells, she rubbed her face with a towel. Bracing herself, she almost left the bathroom before noticing again that she was shirtless. Hastily, she took a robe hanging from a peg nearby, covered herself and opened the door. Her heart skipped a beat… Mark was still there!

After a long, long time, and a lot of odd noises coming from the bathroom… was that the shower on? Zava finally opened the door and peeked out of the bathroom, quickly finding Mark with her piercing dark eyes. He was still sitting in the same place. After she was gone, he considered hiding, but resisted the childish urge to tease her… he instead tried to use his time alone to collect his thoughts and now was almost sure of the best way to talk to her.

She got out of the bathroom, with a shy smile, and slowly, almost hesitantly, approached the bed, hips swaying, Mark thought, appreciatively, but now, to his inner disappointment, she had thrown on some kind of lavender bathrobe on. Perhaps it was for the better, having a conversation with a giant, sexy and naked woman would be too overwhelming anyway. If she knew the power she had over his mind and heart… she would dominate him as easily as she had done with just her fingers last time.

“Well, Mark, I’m all yours!”, She said, sitting on the bed. Indeed I am… you just have to ask, Mark. “Tell me first, have you been here long?”, she said, setting herself on her belly again, supporting her chin in her hands, giving him a meaningful look, as she got closer. Her feet, crossed at the ankles, were raised provocatively behind her.

“Oh, no, Zava. Actually no.” Has the little guy blushed? So cute! She thought, her lips curving upwards. “I entered through the balcony”, he continued. “I was not sure you still lived here, and it’s not like I could ring the bell…”  he said, apologetically, smiling. “I was very, very glad to find you still here, Zava”.

“It certainly took you a little long to visit me, Mark, I had almost given up on you!” she said, teasingly, flashing her white teeth in a meter-wide grin. “I was worried to death something had happened to you, actually” she continued, getting serious. “After last night, I saw something in the news that made me think you had left in your spaceship, for good, actually”.

“Well, Zava, we have been busy these last few months, as we managed to fix the Spindrift, and yesterday it was the day chosen for takeoff, amidst the fireworks, to cover her sonic boom when she accelerated to orbit”

“Sonic boom?” She said.

“Yes, when an object reaches a certain velocity within the atmosphere, it causes a thunderclap like noise. We call it a sonic boom”.

“I see. We call it differently here, though I do not recall the right term just now. But wait! Why are you still down here? Thankfully! Was that a test flight?”

“No, Zava. They left for good, I mean, permanently. I chose to remain”. What!

“What!? But why, Mark?”

“I could not just leave, Zava. I needed to see you. I trust you remember what you happened between us in our last encounter?” he said, straightening and looking at her fiercely. “What you did to me?”

Mark saw Zava’s eyes widen and emotions flashing in her countenance… first she paled with shock… and then regret and deep, deep shame made her flush. She quickly sat up, again, startlingly fast, crossing her legs under her, rocking the bed and getting away from him. She looked to the side, chin low, avoiding Mark’s gaze. She suddenly slumped her shoulders, wringing her hands in her lap, tears overflowed her gleaming eyes, running remarkably fast down her smooth cheeks. She let them run freely. Mark heard them drip on the lapel of her bathrobe.

“Yes Mark. I have thought about that long and many times since the last time we saw each other. I got carried away and took advantage of you, then. I see now that it was wrong… an awful thing to do”.  He seemed to choke, but controlled herself and went on, now looking directly at Mark. “I should have seen that it was wrong at the time. I used my power over you, my size and strength to overpower you, seeing that you were unable to resist me, I violated you and I enjoyed it, at the time. I was aroused and attracted by you; I wanted to touch you. I gave in to my urges, and would have done even more things I am ashamed to mention, but I did not want to humiliate you. I never did, and I at least managed to keep myself from ripping off your clothes, barely, and ogling at and fondling your naked little body… and more”. She paused for a bit, looking away again, breathing deeply. “But I do not make excuses of my behavior. If the roles were reversed and a man I barely knew held me down and groped my crotch I would surely be reporting him to the police”, she added grimly. “And I would do everything in my power to get him to pay for his abuse. I know you cannot go to the police to push charges against me, but you would be in your right to do it, if you could”. She turned to him again, head bowed. “I guess you were right, Mark; I was only a foolish young girl; I liked you from the beginning; but Betty too tried to tell me to leave you alone, that we could not be together, as a man and a woman can, we are too different; she was right, too; I never thought I, of all people, and a woman, could become a rapist… I thought I was a good person, but I proved myself wrong, and I did you harm; this has tormented me ever since, but I did not know where to find you to apologize, and in truth, was afraid to face you, afraid to face my guilt, my crime reflected at me in your accusing eyes. But now you’re here and I can only now ask for you, as a man, to forgive this woman, who knows she does not have the right to ask you to… Mark… please do not hate me! I could not live with myself if you did!!” She buried her face in her hands and started to sob uncontrollably, shoulders shaking.

There was a long silence. Zava was afraid to take her hands off her face and see Mark glaring at her. All her thoughts of being a giant monster to Mark came flooding into her brain.  A sense of unreality overcame Zava; she thought she was going to go mad with grief and shame. Also fear; fear of being hated by the man she loved. Yes, she loved him, there was no denying it now, what was the point? Not that she ever will tell him… who could love a rapist, like her? And what right had her to love him, if she did not know anything about him, not even his full name!

Suddenly, she felt a slight, butterfly light touch in her right knee. She uncovered her face. Mark was right there, by her leg, resting a warm, tiny hand in her knee, looking up at her, not unkindly.

“I have also long thought of you Zava, but not only of what you did to my… body”. He paused, without taking his eyes off hers. “You know, I have been captured, along with my crewmates, many times by giants, like you. Men and women, both. I have been grabbed, probed, squeezed almost to a pulp by giant hands, injected on, almost stepped on many times, caged like an animal, experimented on, anyway, you get my drift. But you were unique in one thing, Zava. I sensed your reluctance to let us go when we were in the forest, and yet, you released us. Of all the giant people I have come across in the years since we crashed here, dozens of giant people, you have been the ONLY person who not only conversed with us as real people, but even willingly let us leave. In all other cases we were treated like nonpersons, like animals or dangerous aliens. And we always had to escape on our own, or be rescued by our crewmates. Some of them perished in the hands of the giants. You cannot be that terrible a person, Zava. You treated us right in your home, you treated Betty right; you did not try to follow us or make us say where our ship was, either”. Zava was listening attentively, looking down at Mark. She was sitting very still.

“What I am trying to say, Zava, is that I forgave you long ago. I forgave you even before you took us back to the forest”. He paused. “And the truth is, I liked you from the beginning, also, but I tried to hide it, because I was ashamed to show it in front of Betty and I was also ashamed of liking a young girl like you, ten years younger than I, almost underage, and I was desperately lonesome and bitter already by then, desperate to get off this planet, where I had only known monsters, trying to kill me or use me. I could not accept then the idea that a beautiful, giant woman like you could see me as a man, some real man and not some kind of vile little vermin you only touch reluctantly. I was astonished when I found you wanted me, as a man.  I was in total denial; I had given up on having sex with a woman ever again, Zava. You gave me that back and more. Besides your touch, Zava, your empathy and kindness, your compassion and ultimate selflessness in letting us go captured my heart ever since. I have dreamed countless times of your eyes looking at me with fondness, and more than fondness. I have longed to feel you hold me again, so many, many times since we parted. Zava. You are the most amazing, sexy, loving woman I have ever met. How could I hate you? I…”

He could not finish. Zava, quick as lightning, scooped him up in both hands and covered his face with kisses, lightly squeezing him on her velvety cheeks, amid a curious womanly sound between a sob and laughter. Smiling, she finally held him in her palm in front of her lovely face at a comfortable distance where she could focus on his face. He kneeled in her hand, looking at her twinkling, incredibly dark, bottomless eyes.

“I do not know if you knew this, Mark, but in this country at least, legal adulthood is at sixteen and 3/4”. Said Zava. “Do not ask why, it is tradition, and the law; when we met I was already 18 and a half, I am almost nineteen now”.

“I did not know that…” So, you are not jailbait then huh”.

“I am not. Mark; I trust you won’t call the police on me, either, eh?  Tell me something, again. I want to hear it. Why are you here?”

“I decided to stay, Zava. Stay in this world, with you, if you would have me. When I fixed the ship, finally, I knew that I did not want to live in a world you were not in. So here I am; I have never felt like this before. My destiny, and indeed all my life is in this world, and it is yours, I myself am yours, to do as you please. I love you, Zava. Like I never have and never could hope to love anyone, ever again.”

“I love you too Mark. I know it is crazy, we have only recently met, but after all this months I knew this was not a passing crush”. Said Zava, voice husky. “I take you in Mark… “. She blushed. “By the way, I guess proper introductions are in order”. She held her left pinkie to Mark. He shook it with this small hand in a surprisingly firm grip, holding it lovingly with both hands. He grinned up at her.

“My full name is Mark Wilson, electronic engineer; nice to meet you, Zava”. Zava’s smile gleamed.

“And I am Zava Casafus, first year student of electronics; very, very pleased to make your acquaintance; I take you in, and what is more, I am all yours, in every sense of the word, Mark, for you to do as you please… and I mean it; it is only fair”. Her eyes sparkled wickedly while biting her lower lip.

“OK Zava, I will hold you to your word… you owe me one, after all”. 

Suddenly, something like a mix of a howling catamount and a Mack truck failing to start was heard, disturbingly close; Mark started to look around nervously, but, as the sound repeated itself, the direction of the sound and Zava’s very embarrassed face gave him the final clue. It was simply her stomach growling.

“Oops… sorry Mark, I guess the excitement made me forget I have not eaten a thing since yesterday evening… How do you feel joining me for breakfast?”. The awkward and involuntary bodily noise of her protesting stomach took something of her increasing good mood out of her, as an unwelcome reminder of her earlier insecurities that Mark might find her oversized body parts, not to mention their ancillary whopping bodily functions disgusting… Thank the Gods I am not now in my period, not sure how much of THAT he could perceive… I guess I’ll find out, whether I want it or not, soon anyway… she added with an inner sigh.

“OK Zava, let’s go. As you can imagine, I am a most economical roommate, and make only minimal mess, you can count on it!”, he said with a grin, repaid a twentyfold by a beaming Zava. During their time apart, Mark had thought long of how he could move in with Zava without becoming an (admittedly tiny) burden on her obviously meager student budget, as it was plain that he would not be able to cook for her, get a (normal) job to help pay for rent or help cleaning, at least not for a while, until his plans started rolling. Based on his experience in past relationships, the tension that build up in a relationship when one partner thought he or she was getting an uneven slice of the inevitable home chores, were a huge deal on their own and if mixed up with fights over money, were a recipe with disaster and he was already on a huge disadvantage already. It would not be fair for Zava to cope with a freeloader, no matter how little (he would have to be accustomed to adjectives like tiny, cute, small and little, and all of their associated synonyms being as often used with him by Zava as he was used to use the whole repertoire of words related to giant and huge things he and his crewmates used every day to describe the world they had been stuck in); he was determined to prove that he could be much more than a pet to her.  As Zava got out of bed, carefully covering him with her left hand while he sat on the palm of her right hand, trying not to squeeze him or jostle him too much, it became again obvious that it was not practical (and even life threatening) for him to follow her around her giant apartment on his own when she was around, as even keeping up with her giant strides or climbing on a table to dine with her would be like practicing several triathlons every day, and he was not getting any younger.

Once out of bed, Zava headed for the kitchen, affectionately holding him with both hands against her bosom like a treasure. Mark could not keep a dopey grin off his face as he could feel the enormous breast he was being lightly pushed against him wobble and swing with her energetic, springy footsteps. Of course, they arrived to the dining table in no time and Zava, delicately setting Mark on the table, quickly got some hot brew made, and put cheese and bread out. Mark thought it was time to breach his plans to improve their financial situation. As they ate, Mark marveling and a little afraid of witnessing, like when they had first met, of the amount of food she could consume in one sitting, he explained to her that he had in his field personal computer, which he carried at all times, and in two backups in storage modules he had on his backpack, thousands of digital (or numerized, as he had to call them so she could understand, as the concept had not been developed yet in her society) engineering and programming (another new concept for her) manuals and CAD models detailing how to build and maintain hundreds of devices and introduce concepts and even paradigms decades ahead of the current technological progress of giant society. The fact that Zava was also involved with electronics was, Zava and Mark thought, a good omen that their meeting was meant to be, and it made it more delightful for them to share a mutual interest in a field that, if they played their cards right (without hurrying too much and making it obvious to the SID that they were introducing alien tech), had even the possibility of making them millionaires with the myriad of possible patents, among other things they could develop together, like futurology books, tech columns in mags and newspapers, etc. The opportunities of generating a steady and juicy income were literally endless. When they finished eating, Zava told Mark that she would like to keep chatting but in bed, if he wanted to join her, she added, with a twinkle in her eye, to which Mark of course acquiesced, wondering what she had in mind; there were plenty of possibilities there, too.

“I was wondering, Mark”, she said when they were settled in bed, Zava propping some pillows so she could sit comfortably in bed, with Mark sitting on her lap, looking up at her but at an angle that did not give them both a crick in the neck. “… why are you barefoot? Don’t tell me you forgot your shoes on the ship and came all the way here like that!”, she said, with a giggle.

“I decided to take my shoes off when I climbed into the bed, I mean, the sheets were so clean that I did not want you angry at me for leaving muddy footsteps on them, you know; my shoes and socks are by the foot of the bed” Mark started saying at a normal voice for him but ended almost hollering at her; seeing him struggle a little to hear him, so he added: “That reminds me… Zava, would you mind getting my backpack? I have a present for you there”. He told her where his backpack was, and hopped off her to the bed. She quickly got herself to the ground, and getting in all fours near the balcony, her ass in the air, to Mark’s brief glee, picked up the small bag and the sheathed machete, which she put on the nightstand. Deftly picking Mark up with her fingers, before plopping into bed, she settled down again and set both Mark and the backpack on her lap. Mark rummaged in his rucksack, quickly producing two small (of course) metal pieces that fit on his hand and presenting them to Zava, who extended his hand to Mark to grab them, but he pulled them back

“What are those?” She said, a little hurt at seeing him tease her.

“One of these is for you, Zava. First put the backpack away on the nightstand, please and then come back here and lay flat in the bed; showing is better than telling, I think”.

“Right, Mr. mysterio”, she said, intrigued, complying as he again hopped off her into the mattress again. Once she was back on the bed, Mark retreated to one side, giving her ample space, and she stretched herself on the bed. Quivering with involuntary excitement, he felt Mark approaching her head from the left she turned, smiling, to see him approaching, his hands at his back.

“No ma’am, please, no peeking; face forward, soldier!”. She reluctantly complied, gnawed by curiosity. She felt him approaching the side of her head and struggling with her abundant hair to uncover her left ear. Giggling when noticing his struggles, she aided him lifting her head a little off the bed, and pushing her hair out of the way before reclining again.

Mark could feel her quivering at his touch when he grabbed her earlobe, tenderly. Then he got one of the small clamps and lightly fastened it her earring. Giving her a loving squeeze and a nibbling kiss in her fuzzy earlobe, eliciting a gasp and another giggle, he started walking away towards the footboard.  Zava carefully scooted backwards, sitting back against the pillows, looking expectantly at Mark, who finally turned to her. Suddenly, he heard his voice in her ear, very clearly and much less high-pitched than usual.

“Zava! Can you hear me? “

“I can! Is this some kind of walkie-talkie?”

“More or less, Zava. This has a range of perhaps five or your miles, if there are not too many obstacles in between, we can hear and talk to each other. I think we will need this in case we get separated or if I have to stay out of sight, like in your pocket or purse if we are outside together or If I am in the floor and I want to warn you, so you do not step on me. I have a matching module as an earpiece; both are waterproof and recharge with your body movements”.

“That is great Mark!” she added, proud of being the object of so much attention, “You have thought of everything!”  She extended her hand, palm up, on the mattress. Mark hopped on it and Zava got him close to her face for a delicate kiss, her other hand on his back to avoid knocking him over. She lightly probed his face with her pursed lips, feeling him leaning against her face, hugging her cheeks with his hands as she lightly sucked at his face in their first kiss. Before she could ask him if it was not too slobbery and gross, she, with a thrill, felt his tiny tongue dart out and run along the inside of her lips, as he buried his face in them, moving his head hungrily from side to side. She ventured out the tip of her tongue in turn and lightly dabbed at his mouth, feeling his teeth nibble her tongue tip incredibly delicately, licking the underside, eliciting a rumbling moan that shook Mark chest. As she got the tip of her tongue out of her mouth even more, hungry for tasting more of her tiny friend, Mark, gathering some moisture from the top of her tongue with his open hand, started to lightly caress the underside of her tongue and all of her lips with the tip of his (to her) delicate fingers, while he licked other parts of her lips hungrily. She suddenly closed her lips on his hand, lightly sucking on it until the entirety of Mark’s arm was pulled inside her mouth. Now, more of his body pressed even more against Zava’s lips, he continued to kiss and lick her lips, while teasing and caressing the top and the underside of Zava’s tongue inside her mouth with his spread fingers. The sweet smell of her saliva was intoxicating and addicting, impossibly sweet, like drowning in honey. He in fact, wanting to feel her even more, inserted his other arm inside her mouth, pressing it against her lips. As one hand played with her tongue, the other tickled the inside of her lips, all the while kissing and caressing the outside with his face. As all of this developed and Zava found more of herself caressed so many ways at the same time, her moans increased in urgency while lowering in pitch, but before she could continue, he pulled back, eliciting a reverberating groan from the giant woman.

“Please.. don’t stop… don’t stop”, she entreated, but Mark said:

“Wait Zava, let me get my shirt off before it gets too wet, I could only carry so many clothes with me on the backpack”, he said, panting, lightly running a hand across her cheek in a spidery caress.

“Take it all off, Mark… let me check you out… I want to see you… all of you… Oh… I have waited so long… Oh…” she said, grabbing him almost savagely with her fingers in front of her face, pleading among heavy breathing, her mouth half open, her eyes also half closed, burning with raw need, but very focused in his face, a sound between a whimper and a grunt but incredibly womanly escaping her lightly opened mouth.

“If I show myself then I also want to see all of you, Zava”, he said, panting, while undoing the buttons of his shirt and taking it off, but stopping there. Not wanting him to change his mind, she lightly grabbed him between thumb and fingers and got off of bed to set him deftly on the nightstand. Then, without giving him time to do or say anything, she headed for the bathroom and closed (but not locked) the door behind her. Mark took all of his clothes off, and setting them in a small bundle behind him and out of the way near his backpack, turned just in time to see the bathroom door opening ominously. It was again another occasion for Mark to feel like he was staring at the sun. The now completely nude, titanic, copper-skinned brunette got out of the bathroom slowly, one bare foot in front of the other, shoulder-length hair loose around her lovely face, wide hips swaying, looking straight at Mark as she approached slowly, her mouth lightly open. Her magnificent, but not overly large and astoundingly well-formed and pert, breasts swayed and trembled lightly also with each leonine step she took, making Mark’s jaw drop to his knees; it was impossible to take his eyes of her, and there were too many good places to look at that he did not know where to start. He openly ogled her up and down as she approached, giving him ample opportunity to take her in. He could see the fuzzy dark landing strip on Zava’s mound and her cleft peeking between her breathtaking thighs. She was, in her scale and incomparable allure, a complete goddess,  if there ever was one: a walking temple of womanhood. She got nearer until she was about 15 meters away from him, not getting so close he could not see much of her. She started running her hands along her sides, caressing the underside of her breasts, as her hips swayed in a primal dancing motion; she then lifted her arms and held her hair, so her neck showed, giving a slow 360 degrees turning with her legs lightly spread as she danced on she same spot, showing Mark a full view of her downy, smooth, pretty buttocks in front of him and her sexy nape up there, as she held her hair up giving Mark a sidelong look. He could also see, provocatively, moisture already shining wetly and starting to run down the base of her left thigh in an inchoate rivulet from her blossoming labia. Giving another turn and with her back to him, hands now on her hips, she continued dancing, inching closer to the nightstand’s edge where Mark stood, mesmerized and with as raging a hardon as he ever sported.  If this continued much longer, he thought, I will explode right here without laying a hand on her or in my own manhood. His privileged position allowed him an unparalleled view of her pussy, as she danced, twirling her hips. He also noticed her inner labia were a little protuberant over her outer lips, which made the former quiver lightly as she moved, giving every move of her naked body emanate even more sexuality, to a degree he found to be simply unfair when combined with the now undeniable heady, feral scent of her arousal.

Then, she turned suddenly and dropped to her knees, bringing her face closer to Mark and her eyes to his level. He was now in front of her vast, more than billboard-sized but indescribably fetching face. He could see every detail of her perfectly smooth, bronze skin. Even at her size and the level of detail Mark could ascertain with his very good eyesight, her pores were almost indiscernible; the only imperfection on her face, if it could be called that, was a small, even to him, little depressed scar on her cheekbone, which somehow gave her visage an intriguing allure that a completely flawless complexion would have lacked. The iris of her dark, chocolate brown eyes was freckled with darker streaks. Her eyelashes were at least one foot long and very thick. His eyes scrutinized him closely, staring openly at his face and going up and down rapidly as she approvingly gazed at his now also completely naked and very masculine form. In order to better look at him, she grabbed the edge of the nightstand with both hands side by side of Mark with her very long fingers and got her face even closer to Mark. He, who had felt weak at the knees since she paraded in all her glory from the bathroom, felt afraid he could swoon under the intensity of her gaze, which he noticed was now very much focused on his crotch. Her full red lips curved in a predatory, hungry smile, pearl white teeth gleaming.

“Mark, love, you don’t know how many times have I dreamed of this moment, how wet I feel I am getting myself just staring at your perfect little body… it’s like a master carver has crafted for me the perfect, ideal man to play with… every part of your body is so well formed, so sexy, so firm and so defined I can hardly keep myself from snatching you with my fingers and going wild, just wild!” she purred.  “And I do NOT want to keep waiting any longer…”

Zava extended his left hand to support’s Mark’s back, spreading her pinkie to lightly dab at his firm buttocks, feeling delicately one and then the other with her fingertip, finding with delight that Mark, instead of flinching as her giant, spread and eager appendage snaked towards him, he rather leaned against her to better feel her touch. Trembling with barely contained arousal, she extended thumb and forefinger towards him, taking his right hand with those two fingertips and lightly caressing down her arm all the way to his armpit, and then doing the same with his other arm, pressing daintilty so she could feel his muscles. Then, playfully, she lifted her hand over Mark and picked him up with three fingers of her right hand grabbing him so his head and torso were held by her fingers, while his legs were free. She lifted him as she stood up, bringing him closer to her face, walking to the bed. He could see between her fingers as she smiled, looking at him kick his legs in the air, as his dick, straight to attention, bobbed with the movement of her hand and her steps. Sitting again in her bed, propped with pillows, legs spread and feet settled apart on the mattress, he shook him a little, fascinated to see his penis move as she moved him around. She finally set him on the palm of her left hand, pushing him lightly with her index finger on his chest so he laid on her palm, and then skillfully spread his legs so she could take a good look at his member, unhindered. He obliged her, looking her in the eye. She brought her right hand to wet her thumb and index fingers to her mouth to wet them with saliva and then brought them closer to Mark’s crotch, plainly to grope him but he intercepted her grabby fingers by holding her index with both hands and then pulled on it, guiding it to his mouth. Zava indulged him. Mark licked at her moist finger greedily as if it were ice cream, closing her eyes and sticking out her tongue, feeling the ridges of her fingerprints… Zava gasped with pleasure at the delicate sensation of his tiny tongue running all over her fingertip. Zava abruptly retired her finger against Mark’s efforts to hold her back, smiling wickedly. Instead of re-moisturizing her fingers on her mouth, her hand disappeared from Mark’s view as she looked him directly on the eye and wet sounds were heard as she delved on another, more southwardly source of moisture. When she brought her dripping finger back, Mark ravenously grabbed it again with both hands, tasting of her salty womanly juices. She retired her finger again once Mark lapped up the moist pussy juice offering completely, having to hold Mark across his body with the ring finger of her left hand to get the leverage to pry his hinger from Mark’s arms without lifting him out of her hand, he was holding it that tight. She repeated the operation, this time bringing up significantly more juices with her thumb, index and midle fingers, but instead of bringing them to Mark’s mouth, she drew a wet line from his chest to his dick with her index and middle fingers, now grabbing his member unhindered as she held Mark across his torso with the middle finger of her right hand, she felt his bodily tremble with anticipation of her burning touch.

“Let’s get keep those pesky hands still for a sec, my lovely stud while I take care of you…”, she cooed, feeling up his cock with index and thumb, rolling It between moist fingertips, pulling at it nimbly and bringing Mark closer to her face to get a better look at his manhood being manipulated by her skillful fingers. She could now hear his uncontained moans and grunts of pleasure as she pleasured him slowly but relentlessly, squirming under her finger and spreading his legs to give full access, pumping his hips. The feeling of his surprisingly thick, inch-long cock, hard but supple under her fingertips, got her so wet she was positively dripping onto her sheets, her thighs opening and closing on their own. Licking her fingers again, she stroked his shaft up and down, feeling with delight how Mark’s cock palpitated on her fingertips. She could now see thin strands of precum dripping from it and clinging to her fingers like spiderweb. She repeated different stroking variations, each bringing Mark closer to the edge. Then she took her fingers away and held the frustrated Mark with her right hand with her thumb on his chest and forefinger on her back and brought him very close to her eyes, legs dangling. She studied his throbbing penis closely as if she wanted to memorize it, his manhood drooping slightly at his slight embarrassment of being so examined and missing her touch. Then, to Mark’s surprise, she made a show of tiliting her head slightly back, opening her mouth wide in front of him, sticking out her very long tongue for him to see, looking down at him, and then, making contact with the front of his thighs, ran up, lifting his tiny cock delicately with the very tip of her tongue, wiggling it slightly to caress the underside of his member. Bringing now her mouth closer, she continued playing with her tongue, holding down his cock with her upper lip as she wiggled her tongue underneath it upwards and sideways quicker and more intensely.

“Oh, Zava, keep doing that… you’re amazing, don’t stop, don’t stop.... ughhhhh!!!! He grunted as he came uncontrollably on Zava’s mouth. She lifted him to her eyes, gasping and looking as a protracted explosion of cum kept shooting from his member up close, splashing her upperlip. She licked it and then brought Mark to her mouth, pursing her lips to feel the throbs of his spent member with them, sucking lightly at it. Then she brought mark again closer to her eyes, bringing the index finger of her left hand under his manhood, supporting it as she looked at it, fascinated, lying wetly on the tip of her fingertip as it shrank slightly. It was the first real cock she looked at held and made explode. Mark, on his part, was panting and trembling uncontrollably as he recovered from the most intense orgasm of his life. He could not speak, lying dazed, with eyes closed, on the palm of her right hand, hugging her supporting thumb as she continued to examine him. His member was now much smaller and quite cute, flaccid and flopping between his legs. She continued to stroke it, trying to coax it to hardness again, but Mark said, panting:

“Just… just leave it alone for a minute Zava, I’m now quite sensitive down there… need to recover…”. Zava reluctantly took her probing fingers away, bringing Mark to her face, stroking her cheeks with his body as he returned her caresses. She was FAR from done, however. She could feel her juices flowing from her pulsing cunt, to drip over her also pulsing taint and from there to the bed. Her nipples tingled as if on fire.

Mark, however overcome by her attentions, was not a selfish lover and was now eager to repay her in kind.

Sitting up, Zava set Mark down on her lap, just below her belly button. She self-consciously closed her legs, her arms at her sides. He could see her very stiff purplish-pink nipples, more than a foot long, jutting out from each enormous and shapely breast to either side of him, gently heaving as she breathed.

“I am SO turned on Mark, but before we continue I need to ask you something”

“You can ask me anything, go ahead”, said Mark, looking up at her affectionately.

“Well…”, she said, blushing lightly. “although I did not think of it when we first met, I am now more than a little concerned of certain… effects I might have on you, Mark”.

“What do you mean, Zava”. 

I love hearing him say my name!! “Until you came along, I never had thought of me as a big person, I saw myself as rather average, neither too tall nor too short, but now I realize that to you I am a giant, and everything about me could be more than a little… overwhelming to you…” she added, clearly trying to see how to phrase a sensitive topic. Mark was listening politely. “What I mean is, you would tell me if something about me is making you uncomfortable, right? I never want to consciously do anything to feel you threatened… or to hurt you, or make you feel disgusted”, she ended, dolefully. Never again.

“Of course, Zava!”

“I want to feel your touch so much, well… everywhere, but I do not know if my…” she struggled “sm… scent… is perhaps a little bit too much for you and I get carried away easily, as you know”, she declared, clearly much embarrassed. “I worry that from your perspective you can see or feel things about me that make me look coarse and brutish, even gross, in your eyes”.

“Zava… you are right in that you are overwhelming. I still struggle to think that such an awe-inspiring being, is actually interested in me, giving me leave to get so close and touch you so intimately. I spent months and months pining… I truly thought you were, way, way out of my league! That first time you had me on your lap as I am now I was like to faint at the intensity of your presence: especially your smell, is so overpoweringly feminine, so crushingly arousing that it is I who was and am afraid you would think me an old lecher for wanting to explore and pleasure every inch of your body I can reach… climb on or get into!” he finished with a wolfish grin, immediately mirrored in Zava’s vast lips, her eyes blazing wickedly. “If I could bottle up the smell I can perceive from where I’m standing, I would bathe in it, drink it as if it was wine”, he added, looking meaningfully back at Zava’s closed thighs, at which junction a lightly trimmed patch of fur disappeared promisingly between. 

“I needed to hear that” … said Zava. “I still feel like I owe you one, Mark, you said it yourself; I want to feel you, but you will call the shots; tell me what to do”.

“First, I need you to demonstrate that you want me”, Mark said, looking up at her in the eye.

“That is easy…” said Zava, leaning forward a bit, her right hand moving to the side, and beyond but out of Mark’s sight “I already did earlier”, she added huskily, bringing her hand back from where she had put it, index and thumb now in front of him, to show, by separating her fingers, the abundant moisture she had gathered from her sex by touching herself from below; thin strands of fluid clung to each fingertip, joining them.

“I need to see it” Mark said, turning his back to her and putting a hand on each thigh, straining to separate them, with his puny strength nowhere a match to her, and obviously putting a show for her benefit.

Laughing throatily at his futile efforts and the obvious meaning of his words, instead of obliging him by spreading her legs, she caught him again from above with her right hand, grabbing him with her index, thumb and middle fingers, and picked him up, his legs dangling, and her eyes ogling his tight butt. She leaned forward, lifting him over her raised (but still closed) knees to put him on the mattress, his back to her. He turned around to see Zava had, in the meantime, spread her legs wide, her feet to each side of him. She was, however, covering her crotch with her right hand, with a knowing smile. She was not in the least embarrassed, at least not yet.

“What do you mean by ‘it’? I’m afraid you will have to be more specific, little man”, she said, with a mock-innocent tone. Determined to keep the upper hand, Mark said:

“You can guess what I want to see… in fact, I will have you say aloud what I want to see, what YOU will show me and what I should do with it”

A little shocked by his meaning and what she must do, her face and chest blushing slightly, reddening all the way to her nipples, she said:

“You want to see my cu…crotch”. She added, hesitantly.

“I’m afraid you will have to be more specific, oh, my giant one” he said, imitating her former words. “try again”, he said, arms akimbo.

“You want to see my pussy…” she added, more confidently, but not losing the blush or flush. As Mark remained silent, she continued: “I want you to touch my pussy”, she concluded with an almost whisper, lifting her hand from what it was covering and putting it beside her on the mattress, while extending her legs flat on the bed, now forming a V. Mark was now level with her knees, on each side of him on the mattress. Zava was now completely exposed to Mark’s gaze, who was seeing more of her than any man had ever seen. He approached her left knee, his eyes not leaving her revealed crotch.

Mark observed, mesmerized, the giant womanhood displayed in front of him, and indeed the whole mindbogglingly erotic panorama of his giant lover offering herself to him, completely naked. He wanted to prolong the moment as much as he could without making it awkward to Zava, who was looking at him with her disquietingly dark eyes, mouth lightly open, so instead of approaching her giant genitalia directly, he walked slowly to her left thigh and from there he started to walk along her leg towards Zava, all the while running his spread hand lightly on the incredibly soft skin of her naked thigh, which Mark could feel shivering at his caresses. 

Zava could not repress a throaty moan from escaping her open lips, her eyes closing and head tilting backwards in pleasure. Her right foot scooted backwards, raising her knee from the mattress, prompting her labia to open a little more, and indeed she even spread her legs even more. He was now halfway up her thigh. If he had thought of Zava as a goddess before, he was now in front of the altar of womanhood. Her young vulva was a bit hairy on her mons, but only slightly hairy on the sides, with sparse delicate hairs extending a little towards the base of her thighs. 

The effect on him was primal, raw desire. As he had noticed before, her inner labia were a little protuberant from her inner nether lips. Both were matted together and leaning to one side, and he could not see inside her, but they were glistening with moisture and literally dripping, even more than before, as evidenced by the visible wetness on each side of the base of her buttocks. He had unwittingly stopped walking, gawking, before catching himself and he continued closing the distance to her ginormous cunt, but now going slower while planting kisses and caressing with her tongue the tanned skin of her thigh. Zava’s leg twitched, and the giant woman was clearly struggling to keep her left leg flat on the mattress, instead of spreading it wide as the other leg was. 

Zava was breathing very heavily and visibly trembling when Mark reached the soft skin between the base of her thighs and her vulva; when she felt his tiny hands there, Zava lifted her other leg from the bed; both her heels were now almost contacting her buttocks. Looking up, he could see, beyond the obscene flower of her pussy, her hairy mons and framed to each side by her mind-blowing breasts, Zava looking down at him, an indescribable look of mischievousness, desire and bashfulness on her eyes; but she clearly wanted him to go on. 

The heat emanating from her core was amazing. He could see her taint and perineum pulsing in and out, in an out, but her nether lips remained stuck together with dampness. Her smell now was… intense, potent and feral. He literally wanted to plunge headfirst into her, but he contained himself, wanting to edge her and pleasure her as long as he could. He wanted to make her scream in pleasure; he wanted her to feel loved, enjoyed. He found it unreal that such a large being was in his power, doing as he said, displaying herself to him; all the while he had started to kiss and caress the soft and yielding flesh near her vulva, inching towards her center. Without warning, Zava’s hand appeared from above, and sliding over her abdomen and pubis, reached her sex. With her index and middle finger, she peeled and pulled her labia open, displaying her quivering hole and tennis ball-sized clit in her full glory as a guttural moan was heard from above… her face was no longer visible, her back was arched.

After the tantalizing approach towards her vagina, when she saw the little man down so close and touching her sex, Zava felt herself slipping out of control into a frenzy of raw need. Oh, how she wanted him! She did not trust herself to hold him in her hand, she felt she was liable to crush him in her eagerness if she grabbed him now… she wanted to spread herself open… to rub him on herself, humping his tight manly body against the mattress, grinding him into her slit… mad with desire she tilted her head backwards as far a she could, opening her mouth and licking her lips like an animal. She reached down and spread her vulva to him… she wanted to display herself to him, as wantonly as possible. She never knew herself for an exhibitionist, but now, shedding all inhibitions, she literally wanted to turn herself inside out before Mark’s eyes… she wanted him to look into her gaping cunt and plunge his little body bodily inside her... feet first so only his head stuck out where she could look at his eyes as she devoured him with her vagina.

“All of this is yours, Mark… I’m yours, yours completely… yours to fuck”, she purred, gaping her labia with her fingers. 

She then leaned forward, supported herself with her hands on the mattress and got on all fours. Mark could see her flushed face looking down at him between her lightly swinging breasts. Deftly positioning her hips above Mark, she lowered her ass backwards slowly onto him, spreading her bent legs on the mattress. Her now protruding clit was now clearly visible atop her spread labia. She kept getting lower towards the expectant Mark until she felt her pussylips make contact with his tiny body, eliciting a gasp from her; her hips immediately recoiled a little, hovering above Mark, a thin strand of pussy juice now connecting his chest to her wet labia. She started lowering herself again very slowly. Mark waited until her protruding inner labia were in reach and grabbed hold on them with each hand, pulling lightly, guiding her movements. Catching his intent, she assisted him by tilting her hips slightly forward and lowering them, leaning her pubis inward as her buttocks descended. Then Zava felt the incredible sensation of Mark’s face nuzzling her giant clit, tongue lapping at it hungrily and wildly, teeth scraping lightly over the sensitive nub. She strained herself to keep herself into position, resisting the craving to flatten Mark into the mattress with her cunt. Mark kept working her with his tongue, and she started moaning in a mounting crescendo until, with her elbows on the mattres, she had to cover her mouth with her hands to stifle her screams of pleasure; in a brief moment of self-counciousness, she tried to get a hold of herself as by now surely the neighbors would have noticed. She failed. This went on longer than she thought possible, and when she felt she could not take it anymore, she sensed Mark pulling anew at her rubbery pussylips towards him. When she lowered herself further, his tiny hands then tried to spread her throbbing pussyhole wider to push his head and shoulders into it. That is when she lost it, she slowly lowered her hips completely. With a slurp, Mark was plunged into her all the way to his waist, squirming, held by her pussy. 

With a bellowing moan, she came, falling sideways on the bed, rolling herself until she was lying backwards, legs in the air and hands supporting Mark on her crotch as an orgasm coursed through her, causing her body to spasm uncontrollably, whimpering like a mare in heat. As the tremors subsided, she could feel Mark sliding out from her with her lingering vaginal contractions. Zava helped Mark out by peeling her labia open it with her fingers, and then grabbing him and sliding him out slowly, languorously savoring the feeling of his body on her genital sphincter, sliding out from her. Enclosing his body in her fist, pinning her arms, she lifted him to her mouth, where she sucked and licked at his head and torso briefly like a lollipop, slipping him out of her mouth while tickling his face delicately with the tip of her tongue, him reciprocating with his, admittedly outmatched in tongue wrestling but eager nonetheless. She held him close to her eyes, while finishing cleaning her fluids off his elated face with her fingers. He was grinning like a fool, her hardon poking her hand. She lowered him to her breasts to rest between the fleshy mounds, covering him with her hands like a blanket.

“That…” he offered, panting. “Was the most incredible thing I have ever done… I take it you liked it?”.

“Oh, yeah” she answered, dreamily. “It’s going to be difficult to top it”

“We have plenty of time to try”.

As Mark laid between Zava’s breasts, both fell into a companionable silence. Eyes closed, she languorously kept caressing and feeling Mark’s tiny, hard body with the tips of her fingers, running her very fingertips up and down his lover’s frame, back, bottom and legs, sometimes pressing only a smidgen harder when she wanted to feel him up some more.

Mark, on his part, lying on his side, tried to snuggle close to Zava’s left breast, running his arm and hand against its warm, supple surface, covered by very small, soft, transparent little hairs. Zava was almost purring like a cat in her contentedness and Mark felt without a care in the world, like those alligators in the circus that the tamer hypnotized by rubbing their bellies.

Despite her size, Zava’s touch was light as a feather and softer than down. Her only slightly long nails added a slight more substance to her touch but their round edges did not hurt Mark. He felt himself dozing off… however, he resisted, he wanted to enjoy more of his massive lover. He now felt Zava’s hand had stopped moving and her warm fingers now rested on him.

“I think I know where I’ll live” he offered, sleepily. “I wouldn’t mind camping among these beauties for a week”, he added, patting her pliant tit.

No answer.

Thinking perhaps his boob pun had fallen flat, he tried to turn and see Zava’s eyes, but from his perspective he could only see the underside of her chin. He tried to extricate himself from the girl’s limp fingers… only to be slightly trapped between them and her left tit falling on him as Zava rolled to her right side, unconsciously grabbing him a little tighter against her bosom to prevent his fall onto the mattress. After a prolonged exhalation, she then stopped moving, and her slow, deep breaths confirming Mark’s suspicions: she was now out cold. Not really wanting to wake her, with some effort, he finally emerged from her grasp, sliding off her body into the mattress.  As the snoozing giantess felt him escape him, she sleepily moved her arms forward, her right arm sliding on the pillow, her left arm remaining on the mattress, extended in front of her. He could now see that Zava had curled her left leg towards her chest, her knee touching her right hand, while the other leg was curled backwards.

Mark wanted to reach the pillow to lay there and watch her sleep and be ready when she woke up. He also did not want to remain where he was as Zava was obviously a restless sleeper, and he did not want to be trapped under her. His former misgivings of being crushed by her when sharing a bed were now somewhat assuaged, as her womanly flesh was probably too supple to flatten him without feeling his struggles.

In a pinch, he thought wryly, I could pinch her, anyway, if need arises. Rising to his feet, he bumped into something soft with his head, bouncing off it. Standing back a little and looking up, he realized he had hit her right nipple with his head.

At rest, Zava’s nipple was now only roughly the size of his fist, though now that it was in front of him, he saw the areola was as large as a truck’s hubcap. He raised his hand and ran his fingertips lightly on her areola, seeing with satisfaction how the nipple slowly but visibly contracted and grew as a reaction.  

He also ran his other hand on the underside of her breast, but stopped as Zava started to fidget. He did not want to disturb her rest. He kissed her nipple and turned from it to consider what route to take to get near her face on the pillow. The direct route was blocked by her arms, and he did not want to climb over them and wake her. He then headed for the foot of the bed, to surround her legs and approach her head.

Passing under her sprawled left thigh, Mark caught sight of her slit as the giant woman lay carelessly sprawled sideways on the bed. Now that she was asleep, he gawked uninhibited at the moist crevice. It was at least as long as he was. Enthralled, he thought he could stare at it all day. It started near him and teasingly near his face and in reach of his eager hands with her protuberant clitoral hood. The black curly pussy hairs were a lot sparser towards her vaginal opening, barely visible among the farthest commissure of her thick labia.

Now that he had been partly inside her, he was completely sure Zava’s love tunnel was completely capable of swallow him whole, without a trace and without any complaints on his part. It was almost impossible to resist the temptation to reach out and cop a feel of what he could of her alluring womanhood, but he was sure any touch in her more sensitive area would surely startle Zava awake.

Snapping himself out of the pussy-gazing induced trance, he headed down the bed and, surrounding her sprawled left leg, and finally made it to her pillow near Zava’s winsome face. Unlike the first time he had seen her sleeping, Zava’s dreaming countenance was now sporting a contented little smirk that brought a simper to Marks lips. Things had gone, incredibly, well beyond his wildest dreams. He vowed to himself to make her happy, whatever the cost to himself. He approached her face even more, and deposited a loving kiss on her lower lip, while caressing her upper lip, nose tip and velvety cheek. 

Feeling his caresses, Zava’s lips parted slightly, and Mark observed, amazed, how her large, pink tongue came out and licked lightly at her lips before retracting inside her cavernous mouth, inside of which he was sure he would leisurely fit. Mark’s lay down, snuggling against the cheek Zava had against the pillow, and after a few minutes of enjoying her scent, softness and warmth, fell deeply asleep.

A few minutes later, Zava slowly came out of the most soothing nap she had had in months. Rolling on her back, she again stared at the ceiling. Her mind still sluggish, Zava felt something started to nag at the back of her awareness…

Suddenly, she touched her chest, distressed when she remembered who should have been laying there. Her fingers groped at her boobs fruitlessly. She was alone. Had it all been a dream, AGAIN? Or worse… Shit, don’t tell me I… is he… had she rolled in her sleep and crushed him?

 She did not want to look, so, fighting back panic and tears, she gingerly started to feel around her around the mattress, her body rigid and very still, praying to the Gods she did not believe in not to feel the mangled little carcass of the man she loved under her fingers. Again, nothing. Propping herself on her elbows, she lifted her head off the pillow.

The experience of having Mark again with her had felt so good and fulfilling as to feel unreal… the touch of his little hands in her most sensitive areas, his tight body in her fingers, the sight of his eager eyes enjoying her nakedness… and the (so nice!) feel of his little, hard and throbbing manhood in her fingers and mouth…. the mindless desire coursing out of her to please and be pleased by her lover… had it all been real?

An even worse thought bubbled into her mind: Maybe he changed his mind or maybe he lied… he used me and left… or instead… was he afraid after I used him down there and decided to escape before next time I lose control completely and smother him with my cunt? Where is he?

Looking sideways, Zava caught sight of Mark’s backpack on the nightstand and then, with infinite relief, she saw him laying sprawled on the pillow, next to the hollow left by her head on it. The little guy had moved there, no doubt wanting to be nearer her face. Getting off the bed and kneeling beside it, she put her hair behind her ears, so it did not fall down on mark as she got her face closer.

She then carefully dragged the pillow to the edge of the bed so she could look at him closely. He was deep in slumber, lying on his back. She could still see some of her fluids caked to his short-cropped blond hair and the fuzzy, likewise dark blond chest hair.

From his chest, which a tempting strip of darker hairs ran to his belly button and beyond, through his ripped and slim stomach to nestle between his thick, muscular and now lightly parted thighs, from between which his member sprung, laying flaccid on his abdomen, slightly sideways to the left. It changes so much in size and girth when it rises!

Getting her face closer to her tiny paramour, she contemplated his delicate figure silently for a few minutes, still as a statue. I have a lover! I have a man in my bed! And he is so handsome, so kind, so brave!

He had given so much up to be with her! Zava could feel her chest almost bursting with love, affection and tenderness toward the little guy, her eyes blurry with tears. She could only imagine what he had to go through to reach her and leave behind everything and everyone he ever knew! Zava felt that she had to rise to the challenge of caring for Mark and making him keep loving her while keeping his sanity, as well.

She knew their life together would not be easy, particularly for Mark, who would now be completely dependent on her for her sustenance and safety (not that I mind!), and Zava would likely be, for the foreseeable future, his only contact to human society, as it was unlikely that she could show him (or talk about him!) to any of his friends, or even her parents, any time soon.

If and when they went outside together (I cannot keep him here on the house as a prisoner forever, I in his place would go mad in mere days from boredom!), he would have to remain carefully concealed, as if ANYONE caught sight of him the SID and the police would fall on them. She would go to prison for quite a few years, and Mark would surely perish under torture and the dissector’s scalpel... it was too horrible a fate to be contemplated, and she was determined to spare him that at any cost to her own comfort.

She could not have him in her fist all the time, he would get motion sickness and all sweaty from her hands. She supposed she could carry him around in a special purse or pocket inside a coat, or perhaps on her cleavage for a while. That is, if the day was not too hot, she could get quite sweaty and funky between her tits in the dry season.

Maybe we could fashion some kind of saddle attached to… I don’t know, the back of my head under my hair, my shoulder or the inside of my thigh if I wear a long skirt? We’ll discuss this together.

While she mused on all this, her fingers had found their way unbidden to Mark’s prone body, lightly caressing him from his face all the way to his tiny feet. She marveled at his delicate toes and fingers, delicately feeling his hands between index and thumb, and dabbing at his mouth with her fingertips, glimpsing his white little teeth.

She gazed long at his manly features despite his size. Before long, unable to contain herself, she held her previously moistened index finger to his (still) unaroused penis. Too small now, she struggled to hold it between her index and thumb, gazing in awe at this most alluring piece of his. I am already addicted to his cock… I feel like I could hold it, stare at it and kiss it all day long.

Incredibly, Mark did not wake up. Thank the Gods he is not a light sleeper. She wanted to play with him a little more with him helpless to stop her have her way. His member was starting to come alive at her efforts to get a rise out of him. She could feel it getting harder and her eyes opened wide when its moist, minute pink head started to peek from inside his foreskin.

Now fully erect, Mark’s cock throbbed red and swollen above his belly. Zava did not want to wake him up or startle him, but…  I want to see it shoot its load, she thought, wickedly. She did not want to hold his prick between her fingers, as they were too big and would cover most of what she wanted to see.

I’m pretty sure you did not finish when you went inside me last time. Let me return the favor!

She opened carefully one drawer from her nightstand and got out of it an old earring adorned with colorful little feathers that would fit on the tip of her finger. Carelessly ripping one of the feathers out of the earring, she deftly grabbed it in her thumb and forefinger and brought it up to the underside of Mark’s little cock and started tickling it.

Under her delicate attentions, his cock grew even redder, thicker and bigger, to her delight, throbbing and dripping its spidery threads from the tip on Mark’s belly and the feather, as she tickled it with the feather. She tickled the underside of its pulsating head, and twirled the soft feather on the head, a bit more rapidly.

Zava was breathing now as fast as Mark was, hypnotized at the sight of his beating member about to explode with her feathery tickling. After a surprisingly long while, and with a groan, Mark finally came, shooting a surprising amount of pearly liquid over Mark’s chest and as far as his chin…

Zava looked open mouthed as the erotic spectacle, gasping when she saw the result of her efforts. Dropping the feather in the nightstand, she reached out with her index and held the fleshy straw against Mark’s belly, rolling it under her finger and feeling it pulsate in release against her pad. I can’t get enough of him! I could eat him up right now!

Indeed, she wanted to feel him… all of him in her mouth… and elsewhere… but she contained herself. Mark was now awake, a groggy grin on his mouth… Zava’s gigantic, beaming face hovering above him was the first thing he saw, and she could see he was glad.

“What just happened??” He chortled, wiping his chin.

“Well, you were just lying there with your thingy in the air, and I wanted to see what I could do with it before you woke up”. Said Zava, primly. “I suppose you did not mind…”

“As far as I’m concerned” said Mark, laughing, “it should be mandatory for all girlfriends to wake up her boyfriends every day by a healthy groping like the one I just received, hands or mouth, I don’t mind. Feel free to indulge yourself, you big perv”, ended the smiling Mark, extending his arms to Zava asking for a hug.

She fell on him, laughing, one mammoth breast on each side of him. She pressed her breasts together, pinning him between them and lifted him so, rolling on her back and pressing him lightly with her hands against her right breast. Her erect nipple poked at his chest and belly. Both continued to laugh happily at their own antics. Zava guided and held her breast against Mark with her right hand so his face and hair tickled her nipple, as he did what he could to hug and press on her tit as much as he could.

He suddenly grabbed her nipple with his surprisingly strong hands and pulled on it to get his face closer to it, twisting it a little and nibbling it softly with his teeth, occasioning a loud moan from his giant fiend. She lifted him from his breast and put him back on top of the pillow, which she then dragged to the center of the bed.

“The other one needs attention too, you know”, she said, now on all fours, her tits hanging on top of Mark. Her eager face was visible above, hair dangling in an incredibly sexy panorama as she smiled down sultrily at him. She then lowered her swinging left boob slowly on top of Mark, guiding it down expertly so it made contact with his manhood and then shimmied her chest slightly so her nipple tickled Marks dick lightly.

Next, she lowered her tit completely on top of Mark, very carefully, so he was softly pinned by tiflesh against the pillow. She could feel his tongue lapping at his breast, and his hips pumping against her nipple, which was now almost painful with need. She then guided her nipple up to Mark’s face, lightly tickling herself with his face. Mark, in turn, grabbed it with both hands and licked at it hungrily. He could feel her gigantic body trembling under his touch, his manhood poking at the underside of her turgid boob.

She got up suddenly and positioned herself astride the pillow, with her hips above him, twirling slowly and provokingly. He could see her enormous swinging breasts above, and in between them her lovely face looking down at him.  He knew what came next, as he could also clearly see her ravenous sex spread right above his prone body. She reached down with both hands, each one pinching a side of her labia expertly and peeling them open, exposing herself with complete licentiousness before her tiny lover.

If Mark was mesmerized before by the sight of her, now he felt slipping out of control into a turmoil of unrestrained desire with the contagious lust of the enormous woman. Zava was simply too much! He wanted to rub himself into her until nothing was left of him. The panorama of her spread pussy now lowering on top of him was like to drive him mad.

“Look inside me, Mark, look how hungry my cunt is for your tiny, hard body” Zava whispered with her sweet, throaty voice. “I want you…. Inside me… all the way in”.

She then lowered herself carefully on top of Mark, not letting her labia from her fingers go until, with a shudder, she felt her pussylips contact his puny body. As she released her labia, they draped wetly on Mark’s body, who grabbed at them franticly, trying to bring more of her on top of him. She slided forward until she felt her clit being groped and licked by Mark’s incredibly warm mouth, prompting a moan that was more of a shriek, but she was way past caring being heard by the neighbors.

She did not want to crush her boyfriend, so she started to slide herself softly up and back Mark’s body, humping him on the pillow skillfully. His hands, arms, face and even legs caressed every inch of her burning sex, now soaking Mark in her juices as she rubbed herself on him, amidst increasingly needy moans and an involuntary twitch here and there when her clit contacted a moving (and grabby) part of his tiny body.

“Fuck, you feel so good down there, Mark” she managed to gasp. “Don’t ever leave me, my love, I’m yours, yours only….”

“Zava, pick me up and lay down, I wanna try something, let me work your pussy, I need you, lay down, lay down”. She heard from her earpiece from a panting Mark.

Picking the now soaked and very out of breath Mark, she lay down on the bed, spreading her legs and letting go of Mark near her patch of pussy hair.

“Lay on your side a little”. He ordered, and she immediately complied, wondering what he had in mind.  Zava was now slightly on her side, left leg on the mattress and right leg bent up, knee in the air, with the foot on the mattress, near her buttocks, so Mark could walk on her left thigh and have access to her slit.

Zava watched, with eyes cloudy with desire as her tiny lover got on all fours and got near her pussy, caressing with his unbelievably soft hands her pliant labia, working his way up to her palpitating clit. He started rubbing it with his hand, running his fingertips on the sensitive nub, pressing on it and moving it right and left as he pressed and licked it. Zava’s whole body was now shuddering, she was now panting as if she was running a marathon.

Satisfied at the effect of his efforts, Mark laid down parallel to her furnace-like crevice, and kept working at her clit, while tickling at the opening of her cunt with his foot, sliding it teasingly into her hole and out, caressing her with the sole of her foot and his toes. Ohhhh what is he doing….

“Mark, by the Gods, that feels SOOOO GOOOD… nhgghhhhh!!”

As soon as Zava felt any part of Mark make contact with the entrance of her vagina, she immediately came, plopping back on the bed, hands pinching her nipples, with a scream of pleasure that nearly left Mark deaf.

He, however, was not finished, and as he felt her fall on the bed, he slid both of his legs on her very wet vaginal orifice and, grasping at her protruding labia, pulled himself so, with a slosh, he was enveloped in her cunt up to his waist; she was so wet it was all he could do not to disappear completely into her. From his new position he immediately kept caressing’s Zava’s clit furiously, as it was barely within reach.

Zava was almost out of control… she dragged her hand to her sex, and felt blindly around gingerly, trembling, at Mark’s body  that now was halfway inside her. It was the most incredible sensation ever, she was even a little afraid for Mark and for her sanity if he kept pleasuring her like this, she was like to become some kind of mindless slut if this continued much longer…. But she stopped thinking as his index finger found Mark’s face and he started kissing and licking it instinctively as he continued to caress her.

She moved then her hand over her sex, feeling his tiny lover now inside her, his strong hands slapping her moist clit and his legs kicking inside her… now bending her waist a little, she grabbed his shoulders delicately with index and thumb and started working him so he slid in and out, in and out,  until she could not take it any longer. Looking at her crotch, panting, the unbelievable scene of watching a grown man sticking out of her vagina and feeling him squirm in there while his hands grabbed at her core, finally sent her over the edge again.

With a wordless grunt, her mouth in an “O”, her back arched on the mattress, her hair in disarray, she came again and again, her pulsing cunt pushing Mark out, but not before she caught him and slid him over her quivering tummy.

“Fuck, Mark, did you come?” She managed to gasp, some moments later, covering him protectively with her hands.

“No… but I’m like to burst right now… nearly there”.

Almost run out of strength, she managed to pick Mark up and place him near her face, turned aside on the mattress. Zava’s enormous eyes, bigger than his head, were glassy with lassitude and love, looking at him, as a lazy smile played on her couch-sized lips.

“Fuck my mouth Mark, I want to feel you… I want you to finish too”.

He then approached her pursed lips, pumping his member in and out of her mouth with his hips, as Zava supported his back and pressed his body on her lips. Her velvety, moist mouth brought him to the edge soon and he shot inside her mouth, as Zava opened wide, grabbing Mark’s body sideways with her lips, her teeth grazing his sides as she ran her tongue between her legs and back, caressing his tiny spent prick. Mark’s legs gave way and he collapsed on the bed, overwhelmed.

Zava was now in seventh heaven, as she felt her tiny lover slide from her lips to collapse on the bed. She noted, delighted, that he quickly rolled on the mattress to lay limply against her cheek, extending a little hand to rub her downy cheek lovingly. 

"It is quite a pity that those tiny female friends of yours never tried anything on you, Mark". (not that I can complain, I do NOT want to share you with ANY female of ANY size! ) She sighed, mischievously. "It was a waste of a very, very nice, male body"

"Hmmfff" was all Mark could muster.... 

"In days like this " never had them THIS good "I feel like lazing out all day in bed, but..." she hesitated... "what would you say to a nice, " she avoided the word 'little' "warm bath, with me"

"Sounds great!" he chirped from under her cheek."I did not want to say anything, but I feel a little stiff all over... like I was wearing some kind of skinsuit of dried girl goo". He winced. "It's starting to pull rather uncomfortably at my hair... and other parts, when I move".

"Girl goo??", she giggled, a bit embarrassed... after realizing what he meant "Oh my Gods, sorry!"

"I can feel, If I'm to walk, I'll have to first pull a rather large flake of it that it is caked to my balls and lemme tell you, I'd rather SOMEONE wash it away with warm water instead", Zava, reddening, could picture his devilish grin. Mark could actually feel her face getting warmer.

"Don't worry, I know someone who would just LOVE to..." started Zava...

...before both she and Mark, stiffening, heard booming knocks on the door and a loud, deep male voice calling:

"THIS IS THE POLICE - OPEN THE DOOR OR WE'LL HAVE TO KICK IT DOWN! YOU HAVE THIRTY SECONDS"

What the flying f…. Oh no, NONONONO!

Soon, the menacing call repeated itself… “… 25 SECONDS!” Zava sprung from the bed, quickly picking and  holding Mark defensively against her bosom, looking around wildly for a way out… could we jump out of the balcony? But just as quickly, she dispelled these fantasies… the Patrollers were known for being trigger happy and there was little opportunity or time for a totally unprepared woman running in the buff, no less on plain daylight to escape a concerted police effort. Besides, surely, they had to have that route covered already. Calming herself, she decided that she would gamble on the oh, so unwanted!! police meddling having NOTHING to do with her Mark… she would have to do some REAL GOOD acting to avoid raising unnecessary suspicions.

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Just let me be decent and I’ll be out!” Managed to scream at the top of her lungs, in what was a surprisingly angry, rather that scared shitless voice. She could feel as Mark, against her skin, flinched at what was, for him, no doubt an earsplitting roar. Rest easy, love, they’ll have to pry you from my cold dead hands…. Gods, I hope it does not get to that, though…

“Stay very, very still Mark, I’m going to handle this” she whispered to Mark, who was looking up at her from her chest, wide-eyed…  so vulnerable!  “Don’t move, and don’t speak, whatever, whatever happens!”, she ordered, grimly. “No way in seven-hells I’ll leave you to them”.

She then darted to the bathroom to get the bathrobe she wore and had discarded before. Quickly putting Mark feet-first to his chest in her mouth, as she needed both hands, she hastily donned the robe. She cursed as she could not, at first, find the cloth belt and finally found it rolled up in the only pocket the robe had, on her right side, a little below her waist. Just my luck, I bought these with only this little, too-shallow pocke,t thinking – who needs pockets in a bathrobe? I hope he fits in there!!!

She then plucked the bewildered and surely by now dizzy Mark and shoved it, gently, she hoped, in the flimsy pocket. Surely enough, the bulge was quite visible. Not wasting any time in trying to find slippers, she shot to the door and, checking her scarce attire to see nothing indecent was popping up, despairing on the state of her hair, she breathed deeply and opened the door slowly.

What was likely he biggest man she had ever seen, a patroller, was standing outside her doorstep. He had to be at least seven feet tall, almost three wide, of very dark skin and built like a brickhouse. She finished opening the door, stepped a little outside and faced him. Each of his arms is almost as thick as I am, she noted, fearfully. His hands were also as /wide as shovels. Muscles bulged out of his arms like fat rabbits under a very thin rug.

However, his face was not the expected mask of rage she feared she would have to tackle. Instead, she saw a not unkind look of patent concern. Concern for me…? She noted, however, that after a discreet appraising look at her hands, looking for weapons?  noticing she was VERY scantily clad, he politely avoided staring at her body and looked her in the eye

“How may I help you, Patroller?” Said Zava in a nonchalant tone that surprised even herself, with one hand holding her robe closed on her chest, the other casually on top of the pocket where Mark was, as a show of keeping her hem closed as well and keeping her hands well in sight of the policeman. She could feel Mark’s little heart fluttering against her hip, flattened against her curves inside the very uncomfortable, very shallow and very small pocket, even for his tiny frame.

“Good morning, Ma’am.” Said the Patroller, with a very deep, rumbling baritone, while flashing an almost sheepish smile, and very white teeth. “I am Ensign Brand of the city’s PatrolForce. Sorry to bother you. We have been notified of a… disturbance”.

“A d-disturbance” Stuttered Zava. Calm down, dammit! “What do you mean? I was sleeping… did anything happen?” She looked around, not having to entirely feign concern and surprise.

Zava had been so focused on the Patroller that it was only then that, for the first time, Zava noticed that behind the hulk of a man, a much smaller woman, smaller and thinner than Zava, was standing behind him, peeking curiously at her. It was Ms. Tangarife, the governess of the boarding house Zava lived in.

“Hi, Ms. Tangarife”. Said Zava. The woman, with a slight frown, waved at Zava weakly, but, uncharacteristically, did not say a word. What the hell is going on?!? Did she see Mark wandering here? Or did she… shit, I think now I know what this mess is all about… I hope! Zava thought she heard steps behind the officer. More people coming?

“Young lady, I’m afraid the governess and other occupants of the house have complained of strange and loud noises that seem to come from your apartment”.

“As you know, young lady” now chimed in Ms. Tangarife, “it is against the rules of the house to have Men” Zava noted how, as always when referring to the other gender, Ms. Tangarife emphasized this word as if she was talking of a boogeyman or a mythical, much to be feared and avoided, wild beast. “… inside the rooms”. Zava felt as if she could implode with relief, as her and Mark’s plight were taking a much, much less despairing turn. I know where this is going now… holy fuck, and I was ready to jump out the window.

“There is no Man” Zava said, without being able to avoid the sarcastic, slightly mocking same emphasis on the word “or Men, for that matter, in this room”, Zava said, rolling her eyes. “And NEVER have been”.

“As per the rules” said the governess, now with a scowl, not happy at Zava’s tentative, and out-of-character flippancy, “I have the authority to go inside your room with the police and verify there are no infractions”.

“As per the rules” said Zava, in a flat, but respectful tone, “no Men can enter a lady’s room in the house, not even a Patroller, unless there is suspicion of battery, abduction, or weapons are suspected to be involved”, Added Zava, who had, fortunately, read the house’s charter and remembered clearly this Anti-Men tenet (among many others).

“That is why I asked for a male-female Patroller tandem” said Ms. Tangarife, triumphally. “We did not know if a burglar or an intruder was forcing you, so Patroller Brand is covering this door, while a female Patroller is under the balcony checking there are no invited or uninvited, but most certainly unwelcome prowlers trying to escape that way”. On cue, Patroller Brand, with an almost apologetic look at Zava, pressed the button of his chest radio and said:

“Lubin, any news from there?”

“No activity”, crackled back the radio, laconically, in a recognizable female tone.

“I’m coming to relieve you there. Once I’m there, please come up here to accompany the governess for a sweep of the apartment” . With a nod to each woman in turn, the Patroller left for the stairs.

This new “sweep” thing made Zava uneasy again… Fucking bad timing for this busybody bitch to come in here…. She avoided Ms. Tangarife’s eyes, as she knew she was not very good of hiding her annoyance. Zava was not TOO worried, though, as she had nothing in there against the rules, not even alcohol in her small fridge.  A few minutes went by in an awkward silence, giving Zava some time to gather her wits.

Mark’s little bundle of things could well be overlooked or explained away easily, except if they picked up the backpack, but she hoped it would not be noticed… upon getting off the bed she had seen (and failed to pick up) her panties on the floor.  That was mortifying if the governess and the police saw her messy room, but not a crime nor an offense that could get her expelled from the house. Mark surely saw those panties lying there… how embarrassing! I hope he does not think I’m a slacker. Zava made a moue of annoyance.

She must have flushed abruptly when she thought this, as she noticed Mr. Tangarife narrowing her eyes as she looked at her face. Zava self-consciously crossed her arms on her chest. Ms. Tangarife looked inquisitively Zava up and down, and, to Zava’s deep discomfort, the governess gaze settled on the little bulge on her only visible pocket.

Fortunately, at that precise moment Patroller Lubin’s rapping footsteps were heard on the stairs, and the governess turned her head mechanically to look at the incoming policewoman. Zava did not miss a beat and with the same adroitness that had surprised Mark on more than one occasion, almost with a sleight of hand move, snatched her minute boyfriend from the pocket with her left hand and put it behind her head, under her hair, hoping he got the clue and got hold of her hair there. She supposed he could stand on her nape and the lapel of her robe, gripping some strands of hair so he did not fall. She knew he could not hold in there for long, though… Poor Mark, I have been jostling him around like up and down in a rollercoaster. I hope he does not lose his breakfast up there, and I hope this mess ends FAST!

Ms. Tangarife did not seem to notice anything and Zava kept her hand in the back of her neck, making a show of aggravation, as she warily opened her fingers, feeling Mark’s hop off her hand, his little feet steppping firmly on the back of her neck, and the very, very gentle tug at some of her nape hairs. He even nuzzled his head in her locks and she could swear she felt a featherlike kiss on her scalp. The little scoundrel…  her lips curved slightly upwards.  The communicator in her ear was apparently on “mute”, as she had not heard any input whatsoever from it since Mark was plunged in her pocket.

As Zava returned her hand to her chest, crossing her arms anew, Lubin arrived. She was a squat, no-nonsense little woman, with blond hair and flat blue, watery eyes.  She approached Zava with a hand on her waist, near her sidearm, Zava noticed.

“Ma’am”. Lubin said, terse.

“Patroller Lubin” said Zava, with a polite nod. Ms. Tangarife did not offer a nod, apparently having met the policewoman earlier.

“Procedure says I have to pat you down before we enter the premises. Step outside, please”

Zava knew nonetheless that resistance was futile.  Under the law even male patrollers could search anyone, even women, at any time if there was a cooperating elder civilian witness around, which plainly Ms. Tangarife was. She complied, then, being glad at least of not being manhandled by the hulking Brand.

“Face the wall, please. Hands up now and palms facing me at all times; feet two feet apart” Zava complied again.

“Um… I’m not wearing ANYTHING under this robe… at all” she added, uneasy at turning her back with Mark on that side.

Unfazed, Lubin patted Zava down competently, even brushing at her breasts, feeling her collarbone, breastbone, around her belt and her sides, hips, and of course, the pocket, but perhaps realizing Zava had no pants on, did not try to touch her crotch. This was not the first time Zava had to submit to this kind of procedure, which was common in bars as the police raided them for minors, so she did not balk. It was over quickly, anyway.

“Clear”. She offered. “Step into the apartment before me, please”. Zava said Ms. Tangarife was disappointed nothing was found on Zava… yet. Zava led the way.

Taking out her billy club, the policewoman, followed by the governess, followed closely behind Zava. She stood sullenly aside with arms crossed, watching as the two women went around the small living room, perfunctorily opened the fridge and then the cupboards, finding nothing amiss, of course. Then they went into the bathroom, again finding nothing.

Then they moved into the bedroom, which was when Zava’s heart started beating faster… of course they saw the panties on the floor, eliciting a disapproving grunt and headshake from the governess, and the policewoman poked at the rumpled clothes from last night on the chair with her club. They even opened the nightstand drawer, but found nothing there of interest. The rest of the clutter on the nightstand seemed to mask the presence of Mark’s stuff and neither woman batted an eyelid at it.

The policewoman even went to the other side of the bed and looked under it, never turning her back on Zava. Then they opened the closet and even went into the balcony, sliding the mesh screen aside, to check if there were footprints on the railing. Again finding nothing. Keep looking, bitches, you’re not going to find MY very portable and very illegal Man anywhere except on me, and you already looked. Zava still felt the little feet of her lover on her skin, changing positions slightly to better steady himself, as she moved around the room.

With a tired huff, tapping the club on her thigh absentmindedly, the policewoman looked at the governess, who only shrugged. There was no sign of a lurking Man or cat (pets were forbidden, too), not even a goldfish, anywhere. All possible hiding places were checked.   

“What were you doing in here, then, to cause all that racket?” Said the governess, clearly upset. “There isn’t even a radio in here! I was WORRIED, young lady”. Zava’s mounting indignation and fears started to deflate… had she been that noisy? I probably was. It’s Ms. Tangarife’s job to keep an eye on us, anyway. She bit her lip. The university payed the governesses of the many boarding houses, known as StuRen (Student Residences), around town (and the governors of the male boarding houses as well, to keep the student residences from being brought down by hard-partying college-goers, of which there was no shortage… she is only doing her job….she reminded herself, trying to put herself in Ms. Tangarife’s shoes.

“I told you, I was asleep... “I have VERY vivid dreams sometimes… I came late last night, and I had some drinks…” mumbled  Zava. “been told that sometimes I talk in my sleep. Loudly.”, she ended, lamely what else can I say? Please go nooooww!

“I always say, drinking age should be 21 in this state!” grumbled Ms. Tangarife, but the policewoman offered no support. She clearly thought this was a waste of time. Tiredly, she turned to Zava.

 “Ms….”

“Casafus” offered the governess, irksomely, before Zava could speak for herself.

 The new police code specifies a fine of up to 300 lukass for a noise nuisance offence, if a First Verbal Complaint is unheeded”. Said the Patroller, turning to the governess. Ms. Tangarife. do you formally issue First Complaint?”

“I do” said the older woman.

“You have been advised, then, Ms. Casafus. Please keep the peace”. With a curt nod, the policewoman strode out of the room. A few instants later, relieved, Zava could hear the heavy Patroller boots clomping down the stairs. Infuriatingly, the governess did not follow the patroller out of the apartment. Zava turned to the other woman, who was standing now near the bed, arms also crossed in her chest.

“I was not born yesterday, Zava”. Said Ms. Tangarife, glaring at Zava. “There is SOMETHING going on here, and the fact that we did not find anything here only makes me MORE suspicious. Those groans, wails and moans were NOT made by someone sleeping”. Zava reddened, avoiding the woman’s gaze. “I do not know how you pulled it off, but I’ll be watching you closely now. I do NOT like being taken for a fool”. Then she started to galumph crossly towards the exit, before catching sight, again, of the crumpled yellow panties on the floor.

As the rest of the apartment was very tidy, there were no other offending articles on which the older woman could find fault with. Taking her pen out of her pocket, she kneeled to pick the panties with the tip and fling them on the chair, with the rest of last night’s attire. But before she did that, narrowing her eyes, she reached down and picked up with her fingers what looked like a tiny little combat boot. It was a most curious tan color, sporting even tiny shoelaces coming out from truly minuscule eyelets and a vaguely futuristic look. Even the sole thread was very detailed, and the material was unbelievably supple.

Catching sight of what the governess had picked up, Zava’s eyes widened and she barely held back a gasp. Mark’s shoes!!! Fuckfuckfuck Fuck!!!

The puzzled expression of the governess gave suddenly way to a flat mask.  She stood up and faced the girl. Zava was now trembling… she did not know if to snatch the boot out of the older woman’s hand and then punch her lights out and drag her out of the apartment…. To make all Little People’s evidence disappear FAST! before the police came back with the SID… But she did not dare… she waited first for her reaction. They both stared at each other mutely for a few seconds. Zava could hear the patrol car outside start noisily, then leaving.

“I have NO idea where you put that doll, as I saw no sign of it anywhere., no, let me rephrase that”, Ms. Tangarife said, to Zava, who was looking at her uncomprehending. Giving a brief but meaningful look at Zava’s crotch, before looking up and rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“I do NOT want to know. Just make sure nothing breaks and stays inside, young lady, those things were NOT designed by THAT kind of playing. And try to keep your… frolicking … quieter from now on. SOME people like to sleep late on holidays”. Tossing the little shoe disgustedly on the bed, and without sparing another glance at the panties, still on the floor, the woman left. Zava followed her, mechanically.

As soon as the door was closed, Zava leaned on the door with her forehead and burst into laughter, echoed heartily from a tiny passenger on her hair.

Mark was fiercely proud of how level-headed Zava was during this potentially disastrous (for her as well as for him) encounter with the Law. She had handled things much better that he probably would have, in her place. He actually felt ashamed now of underestimating her gall, as she smoothly talked herself out of the situation.

The whole episode, however, served to highlight the risk Zava was taking and would continue to take by harboring him, and how useless he was to protect her from harm... something he took a mental note of to prioritize one of the most important fabrication projects he had in mind, once money and materials were at hand.

Mark was feeling a little mischievous, and wanted to tease Zava for the offhand (though necessary) way she had juggled him around, even sticking him in her mouth when she needed both hands to dress herself. That last part had made him the spectator of a dizzying scenery close to that of Zava’s own POV as she walked around the bathroom naked holding him with her lips. Sticking out of her mouth, he was looking down at her wildly swinging tits, long-oh-so-nice striding legs and flailing arms as she struggled to don the bathrobe.

Then he was again unceremoniously plucked from her lips into that little pocket he felt he could fall out of at any minute… and later, he was again plucked from there, no warning, in her nimble and relentless fingers, and dizzyingly hauled into the back of her head, to hide in her hair. That was no doubt due to a too-vigilant giant ‘s suspicions of a bulging pocket, confirmed with the frisk Zava had received at the hands of the policewoman.

So, without waiting for Zava to stop laughing, and still tittering himself, he started to climb her hair, narrowly avoiding her blindly grasping clutches until he was on top of her head. He stepped on the crown of her head, grasping at one fistful of hair strands with each hand to brace himself, legs apart.

“What are you doing up there, you little nut?” Zava was standing rigid, afraid Mark would fall from what was, to him more than 70 feet to the ground. She failed to catch him on the way up, and she felt warily around the top of his head until her index and thumb caught his sides. As she tried to pull, however, he resisted.

“Ow!” Said Zava… “Let go! Please, Mark, I don’t want you to fall from there”

“I’m not going to fall… and speaking of nuts” said Mark, lightly pulling at her hair, eliciting a grumble from her giant girlfriend. “I seem to recall there was talk of SOMEONE available to clean mine off”.

“Ok mini-mister” grumbled again Zava, heading to the bathroom carefully on tiptoes to avoid shaking Mark up there. Again Mark was treated to an almost normal perspective of a room, unlike his normal usual mouse-like POV from under the furniture.

That again highlighted how unused he had become to seeing things ‘normal’. He saw Zava’s shapely arm reaching out to open the bathroom door, opening it and stepping inside. She closed it behind her, gave two steps and then turned around.

Zava never failed to surprise Mark by how spry she was, despite her large size. Somehow, between her apartment’s door and the bathroom, she had managed to slip out of the bathrobe without him noticing, and now she was standing completely bare naked, in front of the full-body mirror in the bathroom’s door.

The giant girl was just standing there, looking up at his reflection in the mirror, with a knowing smile, left hand on her waist, right hand at her side and hips slightly tilted, obviously posing for his benefit. Her smile broadened as she noticed how Mark was now standing very still, looking at her, obviously enjoying the view.

Taking advantage of his surprise, she reached up and deftly caught the now unresisting man into her fingers and bringing him to her waiting left palm, a little below her breasts. She set him there, standing and facing the mirror so they could see each other in the face. She giggled as she effects of her nakedness was now evident on Mark’s groin.

Mark was stunned, both by the spectacle of the gorgeous Zava in full glory and by the sight of her massive size compared to him, who looked puny and insignificant standing there in her hand. He had never looked at himself in a mirror, while in the hand of a giant.

Zava was undoubtedly almost 25 m (80 feet) tall and more than 6 m (20 feet) wide, more than 13 times as high as Mark, making him a little over five inches high to her. Each of her full, perky breasts was overhanging almost a meter from her chest and would surely weigh more than him. Her crotch was over 12 meters above the ground.

As per calculations made with his former crewmates to amuse themselves, giants often weighed more than 200 tons, but the slim Zava had to be less than 150 tons, which still was a lot. If she was on Earth there were not many vehicles that could carry her without collapsing.

Zava carefully grabbed Mark again and then bent over to put him on the ground near her feet, treating him to a lovely view of the face and pendulous breasts of a very mischievous-looking Zava, as he looked up at her. She then stood up, feet slightly apart with Mark between them, directly under her. Looking up, Mark could no longer see her face. He could only see the firm swell of her legs, the underside of her shapely buttocks, glistening slit and perky nipples up there.

Looking at the mirror, Zava was looking down at him; if anything, she looked even more imposing now from the ground. She obviously was enjoying giving him a show, as much, if not more than Mark was elated at her giant loveliness displayed before him. He truly could still not believe such a woman was with him, to whom he was less than the mere wisp of a man. Mark walked to one of her ankles and hugged it fiercely, raining kisses on it. Zava seemed to melt.

She squatted down, giving him another eyeful as, thighs spread, her enormous body descended on him and the folds of her pussy peeled open, tantalizingly above, her intoxicating female musk washing over him again.

Zava felt deliciously depraved baring herself to Mark; as she sat on her heels, hands on her knees, she felt him stay very, very still against her ankle, letting go of it to stand below her. She saw him on the mirror, spellbound, looking up, mouth slightly open, at her opening womanhood, he could not help it.

She had always been rather bashful with the opposite gender, blushing easily when noticing, all too often the too-direct gaze of men trying to steal a look at her charms. For some reason, however, she felt not only at ease with Mark, but also bold, even shameless, as evidently Mark adored looking at her.

She felt beautiful, desired, lustful, powerful and protective at the same time. She wanted to savor the moment as much as possible, let Mark enjoy gawking at her unabashed. She felt desire against coursing through her, as if ignited by Mark’s gaze landing and lingering on her exposed and engorging sex. She barely kept herself from slipping a finger down into her… barely kept herself from uprooting her lover from the ground and plunging him into her moist core.

Awareness of what she had nearly lost came crashing down, unwelcome but not to be denied. The pleasure of having such a tender lover at her complete mercy reminded her of the obvious helplessness of Mark, and her, if the police had been alerted of him. She could have done nothing to stop them from snatching or even killing the little guy if that had been their purpose. Absolutely.Nothing.At.All.

As the bus wound its way down the meandering mountain road, if one of the few passengers was a bored, uninterested observer who looked at the back of the vehicle, she or he would have seen only a young woman sitting there, on a window seat. She was wearing a relatively wide brimmed felt hat and had a blue and white daypack on the seat beside her, stuffed to the point of bursting. There were few passengers on the bus, and nobody else back there, so it was a little odd that she sometimes muttered to herself, as she looked out at the passing landscape and trees.

It would be difficult, however, to find an observer that would remain uninterested for long after catching sight of the pretty brunette. Her dark, almost blue mane, with very straight, smooth hair, was held in a plait draped along her left shoulder, and resting between her breasts, tied at its end with a blue ribbon. She sometimes grabbed the plait nervously, twisting it a little before catching herself and letting it go again. Despite the day being sunny, a blue and white scarf was wrapped loosely around her neck, a flap of it covering her bosom.

Her coppery skin, revealed by her sleeveless, light blue shirt, glowed with the healthy, taut shine of youth and fitness. Her bare arms and well-formed shoulders were slim, slender and anything but flabby, as her movements revealed long, firm muscles under her silky, flawless skin. Her dainty hands were also slim and long fingered, with unpainted but very rosy and shiny fingernails that were only a little long, and obviously well cared for.

Black leggings, coming out from light brown hiking shorts, underscored the statuesque and muscular (but not overtly so) legs of a runner’s physique; she was also wearing white canvas hiking shoes. The rest of her was equally lovely. But her most striking feature, and what most people noticed first about her, was her large, dark eyes. The hypothetical observer, if standing at the polite distance of a gawking passenger in the front of the bus may have thought those eyes were black.

A bolder observer, standing at kissing (or perhaps slapping) distance would have seen those eyes were instead chocolate brown. Those eyes were very piercing, lit with a penetrating intelligence from within.  Those were not the eyes of a girl. They were the bold eyes of a woman with the strength given by a purpose only she knew about.

Her smooth brow, slightly protruding cheekbones, proud chin and dainty nose also indicated a serene, but strong and not easily thwarted will.  She sometimes, however, looked around and in front of her warily, but not fearfylly, rather defiantly, instead, without being blatant about it, as if self-conscious of being observed, or as if having something to hide.  

As the ride continued, and if the observer looked back at intervals, the woman would have been seen sometimes smiling to herself, at other times even giggling discreetly, or sometimes wide eyed with wonder and anticipation. And more muttering would have been witnessed. If looking long and hard enough, the odd impression could be had that she was talking to her chest. But the noisy engine did not permit to ascertain what the occasional muttering was about.

But there were, thankfully, no such rubberneckers around. Perhaps the passengers were too dull, too self-absorbed in their own conversations, or simply incurious or too overcome with motion sickness by of the sinuous mountain road to bother with looking at the back of the bus. It was just as well, as the woman sometimes also slipped a graceful hand under her scarf to paw under it, seemingly at her bosom, before taking her hand away, with obvious reluctance, after just a few seconds, biting her lower lip. Now THAT, if witnessed, would have caused more than raised eyebrows.

“I’m hungry” Said the young woman in a whisper. “do you want something? I’m up for dried fruit”, she said, before twisting her waist to face her backpack, rummaging expertly inside it to produce a small transparent bag, which was just as promptly opened with her nimble fingers. She took up delicately a few red and green scraps off the bag, only to stuff them down her cleavage, under her scarf. Her hand came out empty seconds after. She, unladylike, emptied the bag into her hand, dumped the contents on her mouth and munched contentedly at the whole package.

“I know you’re hot in there, love” she said moments later, “but it’s not like I can shove a water bottle down my tits in front of everyone, or juggle a bottle cap in there without spilling it. You’re pretty warm too, so I’m also hot and even getting an annoying case of itchy boobs there now. And you know, having you there for long also makes me hot ELSEWERE. Doing something about THAT would be awkward in public, no?”, she said, in a playful tone. After a pause, she said “Stop that!”, barely holding back a girlish yelp, twitching and looking around nervously, without being able to keep a foolish grin off her face. “Get back to the middle, naughty boy, if you wander too much around it’ll seem like I am the three-breasted woman escaped from the circus on this bus”.

She looked out the window. The road was straighter now, a few passing villas could now be seen popping out of the woods.

“We’re almost there. If I did not know you would like it and you’d squirm even more, I’ll stuff you DOWN there till we get there… that’d teach you warmer AND wetter now”.

Zava, as it was indeed her, we’re not fooling anyone, held her hand again against her bosom, groping lovingly over the fabric at the lump her tiny boyfriend made on her cleavage. He returned her caresses with both hands and his mouth at her boobs, making her tingle all over and get goosebumps and I know he notices when she felt his tiny lips on her skin.

Even after so much time living together, they could not keep their hands off each other. She used every opportunity she had to feel up his hard little body with her hungry fingers or mouth (and other parts), which made it challenging for her to be in public with him around her person. It was VERY difficult to keep her hands to wandering to wherever in her body or clothes he was riding along.  And calling attention… any attention to him was, as they both knew, potentially deadly. She was, after all, in love with an outlaw.

He was just as grabby, of course, and in this trip he often left his perch in the middle of her breasts to slide around them, crawling under her top to rest under her tit to feel its weight and softness pressing all over his body, running his ticklish hands all over, pressing and caressing, fondling her nipple when he was in reach, but the lump on her chest when he did that was very noticeable, and as she was a little busty (Mark thought she would have been a C-cup if she was of earthling proportions), people often looked at her chest (even women) and they would notice the oddity.

After all these hours she was very turned on and positively squelching in her pants. Since meeting Mark, she never could use light colored slacks again as she could get so wet down there with his antics, or just by him being around, that it would show.

Thankfully, they were now close to their destination. They had been looking forward to this trip for quite a while. Now they could afford it. After last year’s harrowing encounter with the police, she knew living in her old boarding house with a nosy and annoyed governess around (and afterwards, curious neighbors, word got around, of course) was too dangerous. Any sighting of her tiny room (and bed) mate by the wrong person (pretty much everyone) would mean, quite literally, the end of their lives, specially Mark’s.

She managed to scrounge her few savings and, as soon as she found a more private place, she moved there with Mark. It was a little farther from Uni, but it the added privacy was worth it. They were very happy there. However, money had been tight for a while. Mark had started unfolding his money-making schemes and after a while they managed to sell a few writings of his own (under Zava’s name, and dictated to her) to a tech magazine, after quite a few rejected attempts.

The articles had been well received and eventually they were offered a syndicated column, which paid better, and it had quickly gained attention from an increasingly praising readership. Just last month, another of Mark’s projects, a projecting screen for electrical typewriters, the prototype of which Zava and Mark had built together over months, and the design of which they had patented (putting an additional burden on their meager budget) had been presented to an electronics factory.

After the presentation given by Zava, and a demonstration of the working prototype, it was bought from them for an astoundingly large sum. Zava knew they could have gotten more, but they needed the money for other, potentially more lucrative projects, but also with more expensive materials, so they did not haggle. Finally, and now with a steady income, much more than what she earned at her former job in a department store and part-time on the university library, they could pay for a short vacation to lake country on the holidays.

He surely needs it more than I do… and I will make him happy. Mark was not a morose man, but she could see that months of confinement in her house, without being able to go out on his own… or talk to anyone but me… were starting to take their toll on his mood, and she caught him sighing and staring into the wall all too often, and when she got back to the house at night he practically threw himself at her, pressing against her silently, hugging what she could of her. She knew he knew he was a virtual prisoner, and it broke her heart.

She of course kept with her student life and her friends, and Mark kept very busy with her fabrication projects. Zava also took him on walks on the city, or when jogging, and to the malls with her and even to class on the University, often hidden on her cleavage (she had become very good at dissimulation with cleverly chosen wardrobe accessories to carry him around and cover his presence) or her pocket, or in a special, mug-sized capsule Zava had built to carry him around in her purse or backpack in emergencies. But of course, most of the time she could not keep him with her, as he could do but little to keep himself occupied while riding on Zava’s body, so he stayed at home often.

When he was on her, like in this trip, however, he kept her entertained. His PDA had literally hundreds of electronic books and Zava loved when Mark read them to her, he was very funny when making all the character’s voices, and he narrated very well. Of course, one of the first books he read to her was Gulliver’s travels. Zava also liked earth’s horror and science fiction, which was much more interesting that what was available on her world’s literature, as was to be expected from a more advanced technological society like the one Mark came from.

On this bus trip, however, he was reading her Pride and prejudice, from his cleavage burrow, aided by their trusty earpieces. That is, he tried to read it in the intervals Zava was not fondling him through the shirt or when HE was doing the fondling.

I will make him forget all his sadness in this vacation… I’ll see to it, dear Mark. Count on me.

Soon after, they got to the bus terminal and they took a rickshaw taxi to the cabin hotel where Zava had made the reservations. It was near famous hot springs, and lakes. The trip had been recommended to Zava by a friend who had stayed there. It was not very touristy, but they would have their privacy and they loved to camp and cook together. Minutes later, they finally were alone in their comfy, if rustic room.

Zava closed the cabin door and dropped the heavy rucksack on the bed, with a huff. Thankfully she was not planning to hike and camp with all this stuff at once, she planned to leave most things in the cabin. It was rather hot inside it, as it was now evident that the westering sun hit one of the (screened) windows. She found the knob of the aircon and twisted it on.

She also took of the scarf and tossed it carelessly on the bed. Then, arms akimbo, she looked down, smiling, at her chest. Mark’s naked upper torso protruded from her generous cleavage, propping himself on each side by his arms on her breasts, and standing on the juncture of her bra cups. He grinned up at her; he seemed quite at ease in his balcony-like meaty perch. I never tire of seeing (and feeling him) him there, and he NEVER tires of being shoved in there. She stood so the cool jet of the air conditioner hit her on the chest.

That location was unquestionably his favorite spot to be transported on when they went out together. They had tried other alternatives (even her panties, but her pubic hair scraped his skin raw), and the padded (and ventilated) metal capsule for her purse was only used when she had to go to places where the attire she was compelled to wear was not amenable to having him on her body and when she had to leave the house for a few days. He hated it, though, as it was hot, dark and he got motion sickness from being tossed around on her purse.

As usual, after such long trips, the poor guy was now a sweaty mess. As his electric razor had long ago given up with no way to reconstruct the burned micro circuitry, he had to wear his blonde hair now long, tied in a ponytail. He was clean shaven, though, he managed to adapt a small broken piece of one of Zava’s razors for that. His hair was matted to his head and she could see her breasts were slick with sweat from having them covered with the scarf, the high ambient temperature and his warm body. Somehow the contact of his slick skin on hers was very stimulating… he was not wearing any clothes whatsoever.

Early in their relationship, it had become evident that keeping Mark clothed was going to be a problem. When he moved in with her, the few clothes he had brought were already very shabby from multiple hand-washing for three years, and as he explained to her, the trip that had made them crash into her world was by no means meant to last more than a few hours, so he did not have much clothes in his valise at the time. His underwear was the worst, as it was already uncomfortably stretched out, fuzzy with lint and even had holes that SHE could see.

After a misguided attempt, once, to wash his clothes (when he was sleeping, she wanted to surprise him) and tearing them hopelessly in the process, she later (almost) wished she had indulged her mother when in her childhood she had tried to nudge Zava to more girly pastimes like embroidering and sewing, instead of hanging out with her older sister and her father in his mechanical workshop. Her mother was visibly disappointed when her OTHER daughter, too, shunned more traditional female roles.

Zava had bought some doll clothes, but, maddeningly, they were always just a little too big or too small and never fit properly, and Mark complained of the fabric being too thick and uncomfortable. She had tried to craft some undies from the finest silk she could find, but they were still too coarse and chafed him horribly, mostly because Mark did not have a properly sized needle (they did not have one in the Spindrift). Zava’s thinnest needles were too thick to stich them properly and the finest thread available was still too prickly for his very delicate, thinner-than-paper skin.

In the end, Mark resigned himself to being in the buff most of the time, and for cold days in the rainy season she crafted him some silk ponchos that he could stand to wear. He had brought one of them for the trip. He joked that they should buy some body oil so she had a full sex slave, naked and all, but only once, as her hurt expression at this careless comment evidently brought back some of her past guilt. Abashed, he never mentioned it again and simply adapted to being in his birthday suit most of the time.

Zava plucked Mark from her cleavage and set him on the nightstand. Then she opened her bag and took out a small box, laying it down near him. It was an old pencil case of hers, cunningly carved with a pair of love-birds, and crafted of cedar by her father many years ago, for her. Mark used it as his travel trunk. He opened it and rummaged inside it.

Zava, still too hot, took off her shoes, shorts and shirt and was left only in her bra, thong and stockings, all three of them of a matching black. The feeling of the cool floor tiles on her tired, hot feet was delicious. She lifted her arms and turned full circle, slowly, to receive the cool jet from the aircon anew on her chest, torso and back.

“Zav, is there anything to drink? I’m parched” Said Mark, looking up appreciatively at her looming, lithe curves so displayed, from the slightly below crotch level nightstand, to Zava. Pretending not to notice the ogling, but warmed by it (she was warm way earlier anyway), she walked towards the small fridge of the room, opened it and bent over to look at the contents, legs slightly spread. Impishly, she bent over even more, and looking upside down at a now wide-eyed Mark from between her legs, hair hanging down and almost sweeping the floor, and said, nonchalantly:

“There’s cold beer. Share some?”.

“S-sure”. Mark managed to answer, distractedly, while he tried not to stare too openly at her heart-shaped ass, shapely legs and the slight bulge of her panty-covered vulva in full display. Even from this distance he could smell the now familiar and unmistakable scent of her arousal.

Zava loved the power she had to awe Mark with the artful show of her charms. It Works. Every. Time. She loved teasing him, until it was evident that he was barely holding back from pouncing at her. She also did it, however, as a way of making sure that she was not forcing herself on him, as a darker part of her sometimes wished. Fortunately, seeing his willie come to life to her womanly wiles, and his eager gaze was an easy way to ensure he was on the mood. Holding back a grin, even from her upside-down position she could see it was rising.

Zava took one of the green bottles and walked to the bed, sitting on it, near Mark. She put it the bottle on the nightstand, as she twisted the cap open with a show of her strong fingers.

Mark produced a small miniature plastic pitcher from his travel trunk and held it to Zava, who tipped the bottle with uncanny dexterity and served Mark without spilling a drop; then she and him clicked the recipients together, after which she unladylike, gulped the rest of the bottle in a single gulp, eliciting a whistle from Mark, who was sipping his beer just as eagerly but much less capacity to consume it as quickly.

Beaming at Mark, she then got off the bed, and took two more beers, taking off the caps with the same practiced ease and gulped them one after the other.

“Whoa, whoa” Uttered Mark, with a throaty laugh “Hold yer horses young lady, it’s not like I can lift you from under the table, which is where you’re headed if you keep guzzling it like that”.

“It’s too hot” she said, holding back a burp and setting down the bottles, taking the time to neatly line all three up on the table. “I need to cool down or there is no telling what I’ll do”  You dirty, dirty boy… she scooted back on the bed and lifted one long leg so one naked and slender foot was on the ground and the other on the bed, legs spread. She was indeed now very flushed down to her cleavage. Then, to Mark’s astonishment, she lowered a hand, pulled and held her black panties aside. Her other hand made a show of fanning her now exposed crotch exaggeratedly, as she paid him a significant “come hither” look.

A few months back, as Zava said that she was going to start using the Uni’s swimming pool to get in shape, she had prepared to wax her bikini line but an eager Mark had offered his services for that. He had done a very good job of ridding her of the offending hairs, enjoying the task and being waaay more thorough that she could have ever been. His very clever hands shaved ALL of the area clean (even places she did not know had hair on) except for a narrow landing strip on her pubis, which Mark had insisted she kept.

In fact, he afterwards begged to be in charge of similar grooming tasks as he could not use the broom and mop to clean the house or do the dishes and he wanted to be of more help.  From then on, he did also her armpits and legs. It was like having a spa at home, as she simply laid back on the bed naked (Mark’s only requested payment) and got serviced by his little lover, who loved exploring every nook and cranny of her body. He also loved ordering her around to make change positions, spread, close or lift her legs or arms as needed, or flip face down or up on the bed so he could reach the necessary parts.

Of course, having his tiny hands (and feet) all over her often made these sessions end in (or be interrupted by) steamy lovemaking when Zava could not take it anymore and picked Mark from wherever he was to pay him for his services beyond displaying her naked body to using it on him.

It was clear Zava was not going now to take no for an answer. She stood up and slid her thong down her legs, stepping out of them dramatically. Holding her plait with one hand so it did not knock Mark off the nightstand, she bent over, positioning her head above him and opening her mouth wide.

The first time Zava had done this, unexpectedly, he almost pissed himself with fear, as looking up at a giant being opening a mouth big enough to eat you was a daunting experience, but afterwards he found it was one of the most incredible experiences you could have with a giant woman. He trusted Zava with his life. She had demonstrated more than once that she would never harm him on purpose, and more than once she had saved him from trouble he had gotten himself into (or had found its way into their lives) in the giant world.

Zava kept lowering her head, like she was about to gobble Mark up, until she knew her lips were level with his head inside her cavernous mouth. Then she closed her lips carefully around his taut little body, sliding down and continued getting lower until her lips kissed the nightstand’s surface and his feet. It was like a full body blowjob. With a wet, downward sliding motion, her silky lips caressed his body from his head to his legs, and once he was bodily inside her mouth, her tongue whirled expertly on his genitals batting it right and left with incredible dexterity at the underside of its tip.

Then, holding down delicately at his feet with her fingers so the suction did not lift him off the table, she slid herself off him licking his front up to his face, taking the time to probe delicately at his mouth on the way up, feeling his tiny teeth and eager little tongue trying to keep up with her, as she held only his head on his mouth, lips surrounding his neck for an enticing moment, lightly sucking at him like a lollipop before letting him go completely.

As she lowered her face so her eyes were level with his, she, with a wicked smile, saw his little hands grabbing at his erection and starting to tug at it.

“Zava…” he groaned.

She then gripped him delicately by his hips in thumb and forefinger, lifting him to her smiling face, while her body moved backwards into the bed. Getting her head again closer, she started by delicately feeling one of his testicles up with the tip of her tongue, and then the other. He moaned, unrestrained, as her tongue moved upwards to his throbbing manhood.

Mark supported himself on her upper lip with both hands as Zava stuck out her tongue and worked his member into a frenzy, moving her tongue tip on the underside rapidly, as his feet kicked wildly around, trying to hug her face. As she licked him, Zava’s lips curved upwards… she loved making him lose control, indulging in owning him and controlling him with her body. She teased him to the edge and back, by changing the speed of her knowing tongue.

After a while, pursing her lips, and kissing his entire midsection, she changed his grip slightly upwards so his hips were free to move. With a gentle nudge of her pinkie at his buttocks, he took the hint and started pumping his hips, thrusting his cock in and out into the crevice of her moist, sweltering lips. He felt as if his penis was going to melt from contact with the oven-like heat of her mouth, as she emitted a protracted, rumbling moan with her lips closed, that shook his body to his bones.

She was thrilled to feel the hardness of his fleshy straw of a prick throbbing on her lips. When she felt him about to explode, she lightly but very, very, carefully held his cock with her teeth, just below the head, and lightly tugged at it, causing the now feverish Mark to groan. He could not take it any longer and exploded inside her, her ready tongue licking him up until he went limp and spent on her fingers.

Zava then delicately set him on the border of the bed, where he lay down, dazed, looking up at her. She then lifted one foot from the ground and set it on the bed beyond him, positioning herself so he was directly under her crotch. From Mark’s perspective the view was astounding. He could see, up there, her loving eyes, glazed with desire, looking down at him pleadingly. Her left thigh extended to his left over him, her right thigh supporting her body like a gigantic, cinnamon-colored column.

Her right hand descended, sliding over her breasts and abdomen to skid over her sex, pinching at her labia. She then raised her hand and Mark could see her extended tongue coating her fingers with saliva, her hand descending anew, now lubricated. Her index and middle finger slid repeatedly on each side of her labia minora, pinching her clit between them and making the fist-sized nub it protrude from its fleshy cocoon.

Zava’s other hand then grabbed at her left buttock and squeezed it, pulling it up a little so her sex spread a little to give better access to the probing of her fingers. Mark could now see Zava’s milky pussy juice starting to ooze and leak out of her. Sliding her fingers further down, she rubbed her index and middle fingers into her wet hole, coating them completely in womanly slime and continuing her nimble clitoral teasing with increasingly fast circular movements.

Soon, Zava was now using three fingers, occasionally sliding further down to scoop more female goo to lubricate her fingers as needed to continue her flurry. Zava’s tree-sized fingers knead at her slit, provoking ripples on the soft flesh of her vulva and deep dimples where the four fingers of her other hand dug at her ass, propping it open above him. This allowed him to see her taint and vaginal opening pulsing rhythmically, clenching and unclenching, as her ministrations became increasingly urgent and more forceful… from time to time her entire body would twitch entirely in time with the clenching of her orifices.

All this provoked a morbid fascination in Mark, who was literally unable to tear his eyes from the unfairly erotic spectacle, driving his reason away, to be replaced by a single-minded desire to please her, to be used by her. Again, he found himself wondering what he could possibly have done so right in his life to deserve this situation, unsure of he was worthy of such attention, love and desire from a goddess-like being. It’s like he had landed, somehow, in paradise.

It was manifest that Zava’s sexual fever was all due to him, as he now knew her enough to know that Zava’s foremost kink was to lewdly exhibit her nakedness to Mark. It thrilled her to no end to know that HE was looking… the closer the better.  He was sure no one, looking at her serene demeanor in daily life, would suspect how much of an exhibitionist she really was, at least in bed… she LOVED to talk dirty as well, and loved it more when Mark made her do it.

All this activity was accompanied by incredibly sexy (and loud) wet noises, as her fingers dug into her velvety, wet insides. Zava started to whimper his name, overcome by need… and Mark knew what she needed… she needed him. He stood up, lifting his arms toward her, begging to be picked up. It took her only a moment to see him. The hand that had been working her cunt left it, and she bent over slightly, her arm snaked down, fingers spread, to grab him. The other left her buttocks to pull her bra down and knead at her breasts, now spilling out of it.

As her spread hand closed on him, he wondered if he ever would get accustomed to the sight of a titanic hand reaching for him from above. He certainly had not gotten used to it, even after years of being captured by giants and not even after the months, doubtless the best months of his life, he had spent with her giant lover.

Even now, when the one reaching to capture his puny body in her feminine clutches was his best friend, the being in the whole wide universe he most loved, trusted and surrounded utterly before, he found himself weak in the knees, as her fist, sticky with her juices, closed on his body, his throbbing member poking at her palm. He had lowered his arms and his entire body was now pinned by her fingers, only his head sticking out. He knew that having him in her power like this was a HUGE turn on to her.

He felt the now familiar sensation of weightlessness on the pit of his stomach and the back of his thighs as he was lifted several dozen feet to her face. Her eyes, fixed on his, were half closed, glazed, as her pupils and nostrils dilated.  Her face was flushed, heat radiating from it so his exposed head on her fist could feel the waves of body heat on him. Her teeth were clenched, lips curled in a feral sneer of pure, undiluted lust, but indescribably womanly and desirable to the point of madness. She was waiting…

“Get me closer to your pussy, Zava” he said, panting “let me feel you”.

She started lowering him slowly, close to his body, giving him a tour of her open mouth, now unfettered breasts spilling out of the lowered bra cups, her quivering tummy, her fuzzy mons and her crotch.

“Oh Mark, I have been so wet all these hours from having you hidden in my tits… just waiting so we could get here… so I could feel you inside my cunt… I would keep you inside me all day if you let me”.

He lowered her fist even further, getting his face carefully closer to her crotch, and then tickling her clit with his hair and his face, his arms still pinned. He struggled to get his arms free, but she only used her other hand to press, with the tip of her index finger, on the back of his head a little harder into her sensitive nub. He nuzzled it, licked it, grated his teeth on it, covering his face in her fluids.

Mark could feel her body shuddering as he teased her, her moans now reaching deafening levels. It was unbelievable the effect his minuscule mouth had in a being weighting over one hundred tons. She finally relented and slackened her fist so he could now free his hands to knead and slap her clit as he also licked it, eliciting, amazingly, even more thunderous moans… her knees started to buckle, her hips rearing.

Then she started to slide him even further down, using her free hand to spread her labia. She started to tickle her vagina with his upper body, as his hands grabbed the rim of her vaginal opening, spreading it and penetrating her with his arms and head, licking around wildly. Her vagina tightened around what it could hold of his body, trying to suck him in. Zava gasped, as she felt his head work its way inside her cunt, licking inside, not filling her enough… she wanted… needed more.

Abruptly, Zava’s foot left the bed and she squatted down on the floor, holding Mark aloft in front of her in the meantime. Then she lowered him again to her sex and started to tickle her vaginal hole with his feet, sliding him in slowly; he was now upside down. With her index and middle finger, she delicately pushed on him, a finger on each shoulder, so he slid inside her up to his armpits, with a noisy slurp. Her hand then supported his back, so he did not slide out of her and to the floor below. It was well over three meters if he fell from there.

Mark was not idle and continued to grab at her clit from his position, as her cream continued to ooze around him from her insides. Her vagina pulsated around him, overwhelmingly tight, alternatively sucking him in and pushing him out; he could see even her urethra, inches from his head, pulsating. Now both of Zava’s hands were cupped on top of him, as her moans changed to almost pained gasps, groans and whimpers; her hips buckled uncontrolably.

She then fell on all fours, or rather all three, as one hand was still cupped on her crotch to protect Mark. She propped her forehead on the floor, ass in the air, as a body-wracking orgasm surged from her crotch to her spine and her nipples… that left her dazed for a few seconds.

Mark, however, had not relented and continued his caresses even more vigorously. But she wanted more, even now.

Legs trembling, she stood up carefully, still cupping Mark in her crotch, and reached into his travel trunk, producing a one-foot long black silk ribbon with a loop on each end. She then lay down on the bed, putting a pillow under her butt to prop it up so she could see her crotch, and spread her legs as wide as they would go. She then moved her hand to her crotch, clutching the ribbon. Mark saw it and knew what it meant. Extending his arms, he took the ribbon from Zava’s hands and put his arms through one of the loops, securing it under his armpits. The other he let loose.

Zava felt around her sex with her fingers, taking it all in by touch. She could feel her sex gripping her tiny lover, the ribbon already in place. With three fingers, she gingerly felt Mark’s head and caressed it lightly, hungrily. With the other hand, she pulled at the ribbon, sliding him out of her, and then she used the two fingers to push more forcefully into Mark’s shoulders until he, crossing his arms in front of his chest, slid wetly all the way into her, only his head sticking out.

Now Mark’s view was surreal. All his world now was Zava, her labia protruding out around him, her vaginal walls squeezing his whole body, rippling rhythmically. He could see her magnificent, stocking clad thighs and bent knees in the air to each side of him, and in the distance, she could see Zava’s also disbelieving face looking up at him. They locked eyes. Zava’s extended middle finger appeared in front of him, only inches away and started rubbing at her clit, frantically.

The combination of her pussy being filled, her clit being rubbed and the bizarre panorama of seeing his friend and lover’s head sticking out of her vagina, looking her in the eye, giving her permission, was simply too sexy, too perverted to stand. Again, an irresistible orgasm, and then another, and another climax gushed out of her, so irresistible she felt about to pass out from the sheer intensity of them, making her feel as if she was plunged underwater, lungs burning. She rolled sideways on the bed, whimpering, gasping, tears of joy, shame and heart-crushing, infinite love overflowing her lovely eyes, squeezed shut, an unwelcome sob escaping her clenched teeth. I love him so much…  more than life itself. I could die… if he dies, I will too.

A few moments later, she reached behind her and felt around until she found the other end of the ribbon, pulling carefully, lazily savoring the feeling of her man sliding out of her slick sex, and tumbling into her fist. She brought him to her face, covering him with kisses and rubbing him on her tear-stained cheeks, holding him there. He was shaking like a leaf, his heart in turmoil, fluttering like a little bird against her skin, softly repeating her name:

“Zava… Zava… Zava… I’m here”

After such taxing exercise, and so many hours of travel, the two lovers were dog-tired, particularly Zava. At Mark’s behest, they took a hasty cold shower together to clean themselves. Zava was more inclined to simply grab Mark, throw themselves under the covers and doze off, but Mark insisted, as he, as always, got the worse of the sex mess.

He was hot, sweaty, sticky all over, had sore ribs from Zava’s love tunnel squeezes and his shoulder-long hair was a caked, hardening tangle. Making love to a giantess was an extreme sport, that’s for sure. But he would not trade places with anyone in the world, of the universe, for that matter.

Soon after the shower, both naked, got on the bed. Despite the air conditioning being at full blast, it was still rather warm, so Zava covered herself only with a thin blanket and Mark, on the pillow beside her, was covered with one of her linen handkerchiefs. The poor guy was snoring right after Zava put him on the pillow. Before turning the lights off, she stopped to look at her tiny lover.

She was still shaken by her unexpected weeping when orgasming, earlier, which had led her to try to just sleep afterwards so she did not have to think, but Mark was too filthy, smelly and uncomfortable. She had never cried before after or during sex. But she at some level knew that it had happened because of fear.

The closer they got, the more she had to lose if anything happened to Mark. He was such a big part of her life now that Zava could absolutely not imagine what would have become of her life if Mark had never sought her out again, or if by any chance she had never crossed paths with the little people and never had met him. And she did NOT want to think what would happen if any accident took Mark from her.

She had once a nightmare in which she, to her horror, discovered that she hat sat carelessly on a couch and smothered and crushed Mark to death under her ass, unawares. The dream was very vivid, and she still remembered the horrible sensation when she reached under her skirt to feel with her fingers at the strange lump in the seat, only to peel his twisted, broken body from where it was stuck to her buttocks.

That night, she had woken up sobbing, unable to speak, gasping, grasping frantically at her side in the darkness to find Mark sleeping peacefully in his usual place on the pillow. Thankfully Mark, a heavy sleeper, had not noticed anything, as she had no inclination at all to transmit such worries to him. It had taken a long, long time for her to calm down afterwards, and the next day she insisted in carrying him around in her chest with her all day, touching him so often to ensure he was still there, that he got annoyed at her.

She knew that her overprotectiveness was a big factor in Mark’s confinement, but she was horribly aware that at his size a mere stray cat, a snake, a hungry rat or a human burglar breaking into their apartment could easily do away with Mark and she would never even find out what happened to him. She was sure she would go mad with grief if he was gone. But she could not, or rather she would not, make him her prisoner, like a bird in a cage.

Dispelling these thoughts, or at least trying to, she turned off the lights and snuggled under the covers, reaching out to lightly fondle Mark’s sleeping little lump under her handkerchief. Such is life. I will have to enjoy him for as much time as his presence is granted to me, days or decades. And I will make sure he feels as loved and cherished as any man has ever been, on this or his or any Earth that is or will be; he is not my pet, but I surely will be his guardian while I draw breath…

The next morning, Mark was the first to wake up. The sun was already up, and the room was fully lit now.  Zava’s right hand was lying protectively over him, but she was still asleep, face down on the pillow. Wriggling out of her loose grasp, and standing on his pillow, he stretched himself, surveying the bedscape. As usual, Zava had rolled out of her covers or kicked them mostly off her naked body, as her bare ass and back were uncovered, though her feet were not.

Her peaceful, sleeping face was facing him. She was sleeping like a log. A slight trickle of saliva had pooled in a wet spot on the pillow, under her slightly parted lips. Mark could not help a mental Awwww at the unflattering, but very tender scene of his giant lover passed out before him. She approached her face and planted a wet kiss on the eyelid that he could reach. She did not even twitch.

Last evening, as Zava had been very eager to have his way with him, he did not have time to deploy his secret project, but now it seemed like the perfect occasion to do so. He walked to the nightstand, hopping from the pillow to the table top and unpacked from his table chest a smaller chest he had crafted himself. Opening the latter, he produced the fruit of his labor, that a little at a time each time Zava was not home, he finally completed a few days before.

It looked like a jetpack, but instead of straps, it was strapped to a kind of metal cuirass, its edges coated with silicon. Instead of wings, it had what could be described as folded arms, also of metal but coated with a thick silicon layer, inset against the backpack so they hardly made any bulk. Mark had been very careful to smooth out any hard edges off this baby… and today was the field test.

Donning the backpack, his black silk lifeline rolled in neat loops over his shoulder, and hopping again to the bed, he then walked to Zava’s hand and climbed on it, walking gingerly over her arm until he reached her shoulder and then her back. From there, he resolutely headed for her posterior. Zava’s warm, yielding flesh dimpled slightly under his walking feet. He hoped he could reach his destination before she woke up.

He finally reached the top of one of her soft buttocks and stood on it, considering his next step, and enjoying the landscape of Zava’s perky ass and long legs stretching before him. He hoped Zava did not twitch or got angry with him for what he was about to try… but he was determined to prove to her that it was in her best interests to let him have a go. He approached the middle of her ass and started heading toward her crack.

He had no idea his capering had woken Zava up since he stepped on her back. But she reacted quickly, suppressing a giggle and a twitch, and decided to play possum to see what he’d do… seconds later it became obvious where he was going. Of course…You can’t help yourself, can you, you little groper… Eyes closed, a wicked smile played on her lips. Now fully rested and having had no disquieting dreams, she was in the mood for a quickie… or a longie… and she could feel her crotch pulse and moisten in anticipation.

Instead of stepping into her anus, he surrounded it and sat, scooting forward by sliding on his ass, as he did not trust his footing in the yielding flesh of her bottom. Zava’s legs were clenched together, but her meaty vulva protruded a little backwards from her crotch. As he approached, he observed Zava’s taint pulsing, which meant she had already felt him getting closer, whether she was awake or not.

He decided to push his luck, he had made it far enough as it was. As he slid carefully on top of her crevice, Zava’s ass subtly changed position, closing her legs a little more and tilting slightly sideways. It was just as well, as her slit was easier to access this way. Before snuggling himself into position, he took off the ‘jetpack’ and opened a small compartment, producing a thermos-like recipient he had beforehand filled with lube.

He then poured a rather large dollop of the warm goo into his hands and proceeded to coat the arms, the cuirass and his torso and head in the stuff, repeating the procedure until he was thoroughly caked in the stuff.

Zava was straining with anticipation at feeling Mark’s tiny body so close to her cunt… trying not to clench and keep relaxed. However he did not (thankfully) jumped headfirst into her slit, but rather stopped short of doing it, while squirming around, but not fondling anything yet. He was clearly doing something,.. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what the hell is he doing back there. She hoped, however, he would do something soon besides stare at her…

Mark finished lathering himself, put his contraption back on, and tied each loop of the silk ribbon to each of his feet. Next, he tossed the thermos away and got on all fours, trying to burrow into the lovely space created by the joining of her thighs with her ass, where an even lovelier cushion formed by her vulva awaited him. He started caressing around her opening, including the tender flesh between her vagina and her anus, tickling it with his fingers, and was rewarded by a slight shuddering and a violent clenching.

Smiling, he continued working, noticing that she was already pretty wet down here. After a while, he tried to pry open her labia with both arms, but, straining, he could barely gape them a bit, getting only a glimpse of her inner pinkness, now to the brink of overflowing with her juices.

The weight of her overhanging right buttock was pinning her labia closed, and there was no way he would be able to budge the several hundred kilos of female buttflesh needed to pry her open… this was going to be more difficult than anticipated, he realized, annoyed at his inadequacy.

But soon, the dark crevice he was in lightened up a bit, and looking upward, he saw Zava’s fingers grasping at her buttock, lifting it so he could get in deeper, providing access. It was obvious she was awake (and likely had been for a while). She did not speak and neither did he. As she could not see him, he could still surprise her, and now he had full permission to try.

Lying on his belly, he crawled forward until his face was directly in front of her cunt hole. He started to caress lightly with his fingers around the area, being rewarded by more twitching of her giant body, and more pulsing contraction of both her holes. Now, in the distance, Zava let escape a husky, but slightly stifled moan of approval.

He grabbed one of her labia minora and started licking up and down its length, nuzzling his face inside her crevice, and then took care of the other flap of rubbery, musky skin. After this, the tremors made him feel like he was laying down on a locomotive. He then started to lick at the rim of her vaginal opening, working his way inward, until he finally stuck his head completely in her opening, causing a loud gasp and making Zava let go of her buttock, trapping his head inside her. With some difficulty, he extricated herself from the grasp of her cunt and tried to push her labia open again.

Taking the hint, Zava actually now used both hands to hold each of her buttocks and spread them open. Mark then started to wiggle and worm his body inside her, first one arm, then the other, then his head, and then he jiggled his way in until he was halfway up to his chest inside her, facing the ‘roof’ of her vagina. He needed to be more inside her to try the device, but he already had no traction. He was unable to go any further in, and, to his infinite bafflement, he discovered that he was unable to go backwards, as well. He was stuck, like a fool, inside her love canal.

But Zava came to his aid. He could feel his world tilting as she rolled on her back, and soon he felt her warm, amazingly soft fingers probing around to get a feel of his position and situation. She caressed his legs, and now he felt her index finger feeling up his balls and already rigid shaft, stroking them with her feather-like touch, making him squirm and throb. Then, she felt the ribbon and started to pull him out very carefully.  Already half from inside her body, he could hear her groan with ecstasy as she felt him slide out slowly.

However, he wanted IN, not OUT, so he resisted, propping himself with his arms against her slick, rippling vaginal walls, and trying to wriggle back in. Zava paused. And then, incredibly, Mark felt her index and middle fingers find the soles of his feet and start to push. Understanding dawning on him, he locked his knees and made his body rigid. She then pushed him all the way inside her cavernous depths.

Zava was mystified. Already very aroused, she barely stopped herself from laughing when the desperate squirms of Mark made it evident that he was stuck. She changed positions, rolling on her back to have a better grasp and to make her vaginal canal wider. Spreading her legs, she reached down and felt around her sex with her fingers, finding his little legs kicking wildly, trying unsuccessfully to gain traction to move in or out of her pussy.

She also found his tiny, hard cock up and ready for her… she stroked it lovingly, but she did not trust herself to fondle him there and with him sticking out of her vagina, as she was liable to break his cock off if she did not see what she was doing, so he felt around more, discovering, to her relief, that he had his lifeline tied to his feet. She started to pull him out, finding it more difficult than expected… the little guy really was committed to staying inside.

He continued to resist. Are you sure you want to do this? But after a moment, he decided to trust him, realizing he was relatively safe and with the lifeline in place. So she put her fingers on his feet and pushed him into her… all the way.

As he was plunged in, he knew it was time. Moving his hands to his chest, he inserted the fingers of both hands into separate depressions inside his cuirass and pressed. The hydraulic arms of his ‘spreader’ extended slowly, separating the walls of her vagina slightly.

To her astonishment, as soon as Mark was fully inside her, she could feel the insides of her vaginal walls being gently pried apart, not much, but certainly noticeably and rather pleasurably. She tentatively tried to squeeze and found, perplexed, that she could not. They were being held apart by Mark with much more force than he should have been able to muster. Then she started seeing stars…

In past efforts on his own, Mark had tried to stimulate her G-spot, but Zava’s vaginal muscles were simply too strong for him and once he was inside her, he was completely pinned and found it too difficult to breathe, to move his arms or to explore around. Now, with his ‘spreader’ giving him some legroom, and a much-needed air passage, he hoped he could be able to reach and find the necessary section of her vaginal canal… before he passed out from the terrific heat.

He started rubbing his hands on the roof of the vagina, prompting a faraway wail that could be heard both from her vaginal opening at his feet and from inside her. Encouraged, he kept sliding his hands around until he found a slightly coarser area halfway inside her, a faintly protuberant lump different from the rest of the vaginal walls. He then pushed his face against it, licking and squeezing it hungrily with his hands.

With her hands cupped on her crotch, she could feel no part of his lover remained outside her. She had consumed him completely like never before, as she had always been worried he could suffocate or be crushed inside in the squeezes of her passion. She started rubbing her clit…

Ohhh Mark… what are you doing in there…. NgnnhhHHHH! Zava, incredulous, suddenly felt like Mark was peeling off a new layer of explosive sensations, increasingly intense, that caught fire as it came free. It was like he was burrowing into her flesh, and pure bliss, raw need and electrical shocks came gushing forward from the resulting and progressively widening gap he left on his wake, through which her mind was threatening to unravel out of, too.  

As she continued to rub her clit, her cunt pulsated uncontrollably, and she could feel like she was about to lose control of her bladder. When she thought it was over, Mark caused a new orgasmic wave, and other, and then another one, with his maddeningly good tickling inside her pussy. I do not want this to end… don’t stop, don’t stop…. She grabbed the back of her knees with her arms, pulling her knees up to her chest against her breasts, as she felt her pussy melt with explosive pleasure.

With a keening moan, Zava collapsed, dizzy, chest heaving, laying limply on her back, limbs outstretched on the bed. When she had collected herself, she held the ribbon that stuck out of her vaginal opening and started pulling, but to her horror, it would not budge. And nothing stirred inside her… as she was preparing to insert her fingers inside her, she could feel the force holding her vagina a tad apart slacken, and as she tried the ribbon again, it slid out easily, finally dragging Mark out along into the palm of her other hand, with an embarrassing amount of white cream and clear, sticky fluids.

He was a mess, and seemed to be barely conscious, but the brightest smile she had ever seen beamed from his face, as he held two thumbs up. He had some kind of armor on, with the strangest horns, wings, or something, attached to its back.

“And those, my dear, are the perks of dating an engineer”. he chirped.

Afterwards, they laughed together as Mark proudly gave her a walkthrough her his (or rather their) ‘spreader’, while she cleaned both the device and Mark in the sink with tepid water. It was still early and they both felt a little lazy to go hiking just yet, so they took breakfast in bed first.

Zava was half-sitting, ankles crossed, half lying up on the bed propped with pillows, munching at some snacks she had brought. Mark was sitting cross legged, on her rug-like pubic patch, looking up at Zava, as they chatted. She was feeding Mark cacay nuts and goldenberries, playfully biting them in less than half and reaching out to deliver them to his eager hands. As they talked, she also ate, and noticed Mark discreetly looking at her looming breasts. Mark’s member, not quite erect, not quite limp, started peeking from within his legs… just begging me to pinch it....

She suspected he had been so concentrated in making her come that he had not finished, so it was now her turn to get him off, she thought, although he had not said anything, and he would not. Rule number one in our book is that we are always even.

However, she wanted to make him wait a little, so he would be even more wound up when he got his due, and she had some ideas on how to drive him crazy when they were in the hot springs. When Mark had enough food, he casually stepped up from her ‘rug’ and, still facing Zava, he gave a few steps backwards, while still talking. When she started answering, very dissimulate, he lightly stepped on her vulva, one feet on each of her outer lips, her slit just below him, now tightly closed by having her ankles crossed.

Once she felt him there, her speech caught a little, and she could see a satisfied little smirk blossom in him as he looked up at her, obviously enjoying the effect he was having on her titanic body. The sensation of his so warm, so soft, so ticklish little feet slightly denting the flesh of her vulva started to make her very warm…

But she wanted to go out, so, winking at him so he could see his plan was discovered, but the attempt had been appreciated, she put the food recipients away on the nightstand and put her palm in front of Mark, who lightly hopped on it, grabbing to her thumb for support.

A few minutes later, both were ready to go out. Mark was naked, of course, as the day was looking to be quite warm and sunny. Zava was wearing her hat, a dark blue crop top, her hiking shoes and black (very) tight training shorts. She cut a striking figure with her long, athletic legs, bare midriff, wasp waist, great rack and bronze skin, Mark thought approvingly.  After loosely tying the scarf around her neck (better to have it around in case they ran into someone on the trail and had to hide Mark), she picked up Mark’s rucksack, inside which he only had his pitcher and poncho, and put it away on a pocket of her own backpack.

Then she kneeled on the floor near the nightstand and landed her boobs in front of Mark, inviting him to his favorite perch, but refusing to pick him up. She wanted to see him climb into her cleavage on his own. He did not need to be told twice and climbed, with some difficulty, into the awesome nest created by her bust, held together by the tight top. Smiling, with a hand on her chest to ensure he was secure and would not fall, she put on her backpack and left the cabin to hike to the first hot spring station.

As always, Mark was delighted on the whole experience of riding between her girlfriends bust. The view was much better than his usual, too-low ground POV. Zava’s perfume and her natural scent surrounded him, and her yielding flesh all around was like riding on a cloud straight from heaven.

Despite her tight top, each of Zava’s catlike steps made her boobs jiggle and sway slightly, but as he was on the center, he did not get dizzy, but got to enjoy the always welcome view and feel of swaying breasts… while riding them and being able to run his hands over them at all times unimpeded… what was not to like?

Also, as much as he loved the place Zava and him had together back in town, it was VERY good to be together outdoors for a change, not hiding in a pocket or under his skirt (that he did not mind) like a mouse all the time.

Not having to worry that somebody would see him and call the police on them was even better than he expected; he was glad Zava had thought of this trip; she certainly deserved it. The landscape around them passed surprisingly fast. He calculated that, at an unhurried pace, Zava’s long legs could carry her at more than 30 mph (Earth’s units, of course), and although she had never run at full pelt with him on her, he suspected that with her strong legs she could reach 100 mph, easily.

Zava had a map and a brochure she had bought at the check-in station the day before to guide them about the not-so well marked trails. As Zava walked and stopped at some scenic spots, she often reached out and stroked Mark’s little frame with her soft fingers, reading some of the explanatory text to Mark.

They ran only into a few groups of women, but Zava passed them quickly, saying hello but continuing her way, Mark ducking as he could of course see the lumbering figures approach them from afar. Zava had her scarf ready to drape it casually over her cleavage when people were in sight, but the light material allowed Mark to see a little through it. Nobody stopped them and everyone seemed to be minding their own business and going somewhere, not in a hurry, but purposefully.

“Hey Zav, I was wondering… why is it that there are only women around?” He did not voice the other thing he had noticed… very few of the ones they encountered were as young as Zava.

“Well, Mark, one of the reasons I chose this place is because is not very frequented by tourists” Zava said, as she negotiated a particularly steep part of the trail, puffing a little “the other reason is that it is VERY unlikely we’re going to see men around here…. because this is a sacred valley, consecrated since antiquity to Tchiah, the maiden (and moon) goddess. Far into the valley (farther that we’re going to go anyway) there is an old temple were women go as pilgrims to pray so their daughters find a good man. Young women also go pray for a husband, although, of course, after the Layman Revolution, not as many as in years past; praying is for old people, these days. Most people don’t mind the distance, though, as they take the time to enjoy the many hot springs along the way”.

“I take it, then, that men are forbidden to travel here?”. Said Mark

“Oh, yeah. As a matter of fact, in the old times, if a man was caught wandering in this valley, he was to be made prisoner, taken out of the valley and killed by with a stone axe to the head” answered Zava.

“O-Kay… can’t really imagine they still do that in these times even in this world”

“Mark, even us giant barbarians can evolve, it seems, as nowadays men are simply arrested and fined if caught here...” and as there is only one road to access this valley, police checkpoints quickly stop any man that tries, but very, very few do, even nowadays.”, she admonished. “Anyway, there was only one way a trespassing man could be saved”.

“Which was?”

“One of the women of the patrol who encountered the man had to vouch for him. She was to take him in fetters to the temple and he had to consent to marry her on the spot, with the priestesses as witnesses, and had to consummate the marriage immediately…. While still in fetters. Of course, that almost never happened, but it was not COMPLETELY unheard of… there are a few tales”.

“Men being what they are, I still think it curious that more men, even with those deterrents, did not sneak in here to peek at naked women bathing on hot springs”.

“Of course, there were some supernatural deterrents rumored to exist, as well…” Said Zava, ominously, tousling his hair with her fingertip.

“Such as?” Said Mark, grabbing her finger with both hands and pulling it to his mouth to kiss, then sliding its tip down his chest, but Zava, naughtily, took it away.

“Sometimes small imps with sticks that shot thunder out of them were rumored to appear and strike you blind… or your penis could wither and fall off… or become impotent as they were punished by Tchiah for trespassing… in any case, most simply were said to become lost forever in the forest, never being able to feel the touch of a woman in this world… or the other”. Said Zava, grimly, obviously trying to scare Mark.

“My god” Mark laughed. “I hope the goddess does not get mad at me for being here, and I’m getting a little uneasy at your other reasons to bring me to this place, love”.

The truth was, Zava fantasized often that, somehow, she and Mark got married. She had begun daydreaming of it quite early in their relationship, actually. But the odds of that happening were, of course, very, very slim (more like in the below sub-zero chance of occurring) … in fact, sadly, she had to admit to herself that only entertaining the notion was kind of ridiculous.

First there was the issue of introducing Mark to her parents. In fact, she HAD written them about him, or at least she had written to his father about having a boyfriend, even telling him his name (which he found rather odd), but making the excuse that he was a foreigner and he traveled a lot, not entirely a lie, anyway. However, she knew that as things were, the chance of her boyfriend being well received by anyone when she produced him out of her pocket in front of her parents and her sister at the year-end Holiday’s get-together dinner was abysmally low.

Even if that not insignificant hurdle was to be cleared, then there was the problem of finding a notary, or even a priest or priestess willing to perform the ceremony without first, balking at the choice of groom, and second, without calling the Patrollers or the SID on them. Little people did not even qualify as persons, anyway, legally.

Even if by any miracle the Little People ceased to be outlaws, and they married, the problem of proving they could consummate the union, physically, also could arise if they were to be challenged legally (she thought her mother might be capable of trying something in that direction).

And finally, if all those obstacles were somehow removed, she knew society at large, and of course the media, would never leave them alone if they ever got wind of them, making their lives a circus and a living hell, making it near impossible for them to earn a living. It is only a silly fantasy. But for me, Mark and I are husband and wife, in all ways that matter.

Of course, Mark and them never brought up the subject of marriage, but it was the elephant in the room, for a couple who loved each other so much as they did. If circumstances (sizes, actually) were different, let’s say it, they would have married long ago. Mark, was silent for his own reasons. He had also given the subject a lot of thought, even before confessing his feelings for Zava, coming to pretty much the same conclusions Zava had arrived at on her own. The difference was that every time he thought about the impossibility of marrying Zava, he felt inadequate, inferior, even, with feelings of self-loathing creeping in.

At such times (often when being home alone) he said to himself that Zava would be better without him. Such a WOMAN, certainly deserved better than being with an outcast, a non-person, who limited her social life in so many ways, making her waste her youth, energy and beauty. 

By having him around, she had put herself at odds with the law, compelling her to always be looking over her shoulder, to lie to her family and friends (to Zava’s credit, she cared about Mark so much that if he knew the lengths she was willing to go to shield him from harm at the expense of her own life and person, he would have been utterly shocked, perhaps even horrified).

Mark thought that she, who was so sincere and authentic, had to become sneaky and deceitful to protect him.  And all that he had worked his adult life for before crashing on the giant planet, his not inconsiderable fortune, which he had expected to enjoy with a wife someday, was lost and unreachable. He had to start all over again, so he was not a burden to Zava. If by some magic he managed to teleport his money to this world, it would be completely worthless here… who would take miniature green paper scraps in exchange for red, crackling lukass?

He tried to quell those thoughts whenever they arose, however. That way lay madness and despair. And when Zava came back home to him, the pure joy of her womanhood, the boundless love in her demeanor, in her eyes, her laugh, her voice and everything she did for him, begrudging him nothing at all, not her body, nor her thoughts, not her very soul, made such dark nihilism evaporate, as effortlessly and inexorably as the sun unfailingly dispelled the most stubborn night when day came. It was impossible to be glum with Zava around.

Zava… his wife. For so she was, in all but name.

“I do not think the goddess’s curse applies to… lit… I mean…  earthlings…Anyways, as a matter of fact, dear, I DID have other reasons to come to this particular place”, stated Zava, who had continued walking, finally catching sight of the landmark she had been told about by her friend. Three great black boulders with a giant red almazh tree growing over them, its enormous, buttressed roots spreading over all three of them. She pointed it to Mark, extending her willowy arm. “The main trail continues to descend to a river. But to the left of these boulders there is a small, steep path that goes to a grotto atop a hill. There is a beautiful hot spring up there that few know about and even fewer go to as the path is narrow”, declared Zava. “The perfect place for a young couple in love to…” she looked down at her bust.

“Cavort unmolested”, finished Mark, beaming up at her. She returned the smile, and then surrounded the boulder, turning aside some overgrown scrub, but she quickly found the path.

Before she followed it, as they passed close to the boulder, Mark saw (though Zava did not, as it was too small and at her chest level) a curious, much weathered little glyph, about three meters tall, deeply carved on the stone.  It looked like an inverted triangle, split in two by a line running down its middle.

 After much unladylike cursing (with much laughter from Mark) at the branches and brambles in the beginning of the unkempt path, Zava finally made it to a part of the trail that wound up the hill under old growth trees, under which the understory vegetation was much sparser due to the little light the giant trees let through.

Mark looked in awe at the giant trees, some of which had to be close to a kilometer in height and more than 50 meters in diameter. They encountered flocks of fat, reddish partridge-like birds but with dove-like heads, clucking angrily at the woman that disturbed their territory, and some lizards, but not much else. When they passed some clearings, Zava also noticed that the sunny day was giving way to a cloudy day. It might rain later… hopefully after we’re in the cave

After some false turns that made Zava retrace her steps at times, they finally arrived at a part of the path that began to be mossy and slippery, ending in a wide mossy expanse under a giant tree spreading its branches over the entrance to a wide mouth grotto. Mark could now perceive the unmistakable smell of brimstone that heralded the presence of hot springs somewhere near.

It seems someone had described the place to Zava, as she seemed to know where to go. She stepped confidently into the grotto. It turned out to be a rather shallow cave, only (to Zava) about 60 feet long. At the other end of the grotto there was light, seemingly coming from a hole in the cave’s ceiling, and running water could now be heard beyond it; the air was noticeably warmer now.

 Mark noticed the ground in the small hallway of the grotto a level circle was carved with the same symbol he noticed in the boulder earlier, only much bigger, occupying the whole cave. Zava stepped onto the circle and took of her shoes and socks off, neatly putting them aside, along with the backpack, and the hat atop it, in a place where the rain would not reach them. Eeep! The ground is pretty warm here!

“Zava, what is this symbol? Do you know what it means?” he said, pointing at the ground.

“Oh! That is the symbol of the goddess of the moon. As the goddess is the goddess of love and fertility, the symbol is supposed to represent the cleft of a woman’s vulva”.

“So this is some kind of secret shrine?” Asked Mark.

“It does not show in the guide I bought, and I’m no religious scholar, but the symbol is supposed to show places of power, where the priestesses would go alone to meditate and see visions”

“With drugs or something?”

“No, with fasting, self-hypnosis and some sexual rituals, some involving blood-letting. Supposedly they enter a trance, where they could fly, talk with faraway people in their minds (or with the departed), see the future… visited other realms populated with uncanny creatures…”.

An faraway (but not too far) roaring thunder startled both of them; a little wind was starting to pick up. It looks like we’re going to have rain… thank the Gods I brought the tent, as I’ve got the feeling the wind can bring a good deal of water through the cave’s opening.

Zava reached for Mark, but the little man ducked into her cleavage and started to wriggle under her left breast, a task made easy by her (and his) skin made very slick from the ambient warmth. She giggled and squirmed, ticklish, reaching fruitlessly into her cleavage.

She was forced to pull her top down to spill her tits into the open and fish her boyfriend from under them, but he managed to worm its way almost to her armpit,         where her strong fingers finally fished him out.

“You little rascal!”

“Hey! I resent that! I was VERY comfortable there!”

“Just had to get you out of there, as I’ll have to pitch the tent, the mat and the footprint before it starts to rain or gets too dark, love. If I bend over doing this you might fall from there, slick as you are”. She set down Mark near her shoes and started taking the necessary things out of the backpack, keeping and eye on Mark, who watched her work.

She failed to return her top to the original position (on purpose), and as she worked here and there setting up the tent, her freed breasts swung freely, with the generous amount of bending over, crawling on all fours to set everything in place, put the guy lines for the mosquito net, etc. The tent was freestanding and Zava finished soon, though.

Mark did not utter a word in the meantime, being captivated by her apparently careless display. She then turned and crawled on all fours to get her tiny lover, which prompted a very wide-eyed Mark to stand very still, watching her approach, hanging breasts swaying in front and above. I’m about to AMPLY repay you for this morning, dear Mark… The little guy was already fully erect, of course, grinned a pleased Zava both internally and externally.

Once she was close to Mark, she sat cross legged on the warm cave floor and picked Mark up with both hands, lifting him to her insatiable mouth. She pressed his face to her lips, his hungry tongue already out licking, his lips kissing, sucking at her large, full lips, his tiny, clever hands caressing around her mouth, driving her crazy.

Zava delicately stuck out only the tip of her tongue, treating her minuscule lover to a nimble tonsil-wrestling, in which Mark did not seem to feel outmatched, as her tongue probed his wide open mouth greedily and he parried and thrust himself with his. The taste of the giant woman was so sweet, so sexy, that, as always, left Mark breathless and panting in seconds, but wanting, getting and giving more. It was like filling his mouth with mangoes and apricots wine, her hot breath coming out of her kisses and incipient moans ruffling his hair. It went on and on and Mark did not want her to stop… indeed he wanted more….

He started to push his head inside her mouth, until Zava indulged him and first his face, and then his whole head was now into her mouth, as Zava’s tongue did not stop getting into his the whole time. Then his arms were inside, too and he was even grabbing her teeth and pulling himself even further in, until he was almost to his waist, as Zava continued to probe and lick him, very delicately but ravenously, now at his face and around his head, but always returning to his mouth, where she was always welcomed by his tongue.

Mark’s body stiffened inside her as he felt, while his giant lover continued her kisses, that two moist, warm and thick-skinned but very soft fingers started fondling his cock, still outside Zava’s mouth, with Zava’s tender and practiced skill. She rolled it deftly between her fingertips, tugging at it delicately and caressing the underside of his tip, up, down and sideways. His hips started buckling on their own. More of Zava’s fingers caressed his legs, buttocks and feet. By now, as her breasts being strangled under by her top she had covered them again, but Mark did not even notice, being inside her.

As Zava noticed Mark was getting so worked up that he was apt to suffocate inside her mouth, she took him out and continued caressing him before her eyes, finally laying him down on one of her thighs, keeping his arms pinned over his head as she continued to stroke his member as his legs kicked feebly. Of course he could not last forever under her loving fingers. Zava, sensing the climax was near, lifted him to her eyes as she continued to fondle him, and he finally came, his cum shooting out of his member into an arc in full view of Zava’s delighted eyes, almost reaching her face.

Neither Zava nor Mark noticed as his sperm continued its inevitable fall to the ground. It fell, indeed, between Zava’s crossed thighs and finally made contact with the stony floor. They had not noticed, either, that the day had turned a lot darker as a whirpool of black clouds was pooling atop the mountains they were on top of. As soon as Mark’s semen touched the stone, a deafening thunder made Zava shriek not les thunderously (poor Mark) and hold the still stupefied man to her bosom, protectively.

Holding him there with one hand, she turned to look at the mouth of the cave, where the blue lights of not so far thunderstrikes could be seen and soon heard, closer each time; a huge downpour started to fall as well. She stood, trembling under the awesome spectacle, flinching as each thunder was louder than the one before, until it the ground shook under her feet. She was amazed as she noticed the tips of the fingers she was not holding Mark with had started to glow purple in the gloom, as she held her hand in front of her face. Also noticing it, Mark said:

“Holy shit… Saint Elmo’s fire!! Zava, get down on your knees!” The dumbfounded Zava did not have time to react to Mark’s words, as the greatest thunder so far was immediately heard, as blue, blinding light erupted from inside the cave. Incredibly, a lightning had entered the narrow rock shaft ahead and had struck the hot spring pool beyond. Two, three more lightning strikes fell on quick succession, on the same spot, the ground shaking, the air heavy with the stink of ozone. Zava rolled her eyes, and fell senseless on her knees as bedazzling blue light illuminated both ends of the cave, a titanic boom ringing Mark’s ears. Still clutching his man with a now almost limp, slender hand, Zava finished tumbling backwards onto the hard stone floor, not hearing Mark’s panicked voice screaming her name one last time.

Zava woke up slowly, feeling gingerly at what she discovered to be a painful lump in the side of her head, under her hair, along with twigs and a good amount of sand. It seems I fainted and fell on my head. As she rubbed her eyes, still sleepy, her arms seemed to weigh a ton... It seemed to be early dawn, and there was a lot of fog, curiously low on the ground, swirling around her and some low, weirdly shaped bushes around her in very thin wisps, like no mist she had ever encountered. She was laying down on the ground, on very soft sand. Holding her arms around her, and with surprising difficulty, she sat up, shivering... So cold... I feel so weak... Where is Mark? The blue crop top and the black skintight running shorts were not of much help against the early chill...

"Mark? Where are you?"

As she said this, suddenly, she caught movement with the corner of her eye, to her left. The fog was clearing a little, under the golden rays of the rising sun. Then she spotted it. It was a most curious contraption, squatting about ten feet from her. About two foot high, it was a kind of gray, metallic, squarish box and seemed to be standing on two legs. It had a small domed turret on top of it, and three lights on its front, arranged in a triangle, one red up and two, one red, one blue, down. It emitted a curious whirring sound and she discovered, disquietingly, that it's 'face' followed the movements of her head. 

She then heard another whirring sound behind her. Swiveling her head, she noted, alarmed, that there were another two of the strange devices around her, one behind and another to her right. She was in the center of a triangle formed by the three devices. With mounting alarm, she noticed that, as the first, the other two also followed the movements of her face, the squarish part swiveling rapidly above the two three-toed legs to keep up with her. As she moved her body to take in all the devices, the one behind her gave two side steps to maintain the distance with her and the other machines. Whatever these things are, I DON'T want to be near them

Moving cautiously so the things were not startled into whatever action they were capable of, and again feeling curiously sluggish and limb-heavy, she tried to stand to make a run for it and discovered two other more alarming things. One, that she could not stand. The other, that she could not stand because her ankles were held by a sort of stone manacles. A one inch wide ring of the material surrounded each ankle, and a 6 inches or so rod of the same material joined each ankle-manacle. She was barefoot, her shoes and socks nowhere to be seen. 

As she tried to move, the manacles seemed to increase in weight and she found she could not lift or move her feet from the spot. Grunting with a supreme effort, bracing with her hands on the ground, she managed to scoot her feet under her, dragging them on the sand, leaving deep furrows on the ground. 

It was no illusion... the manacles really seemed to get heavier the more she struggled with them. She touched them with her hands. There were no seams or welding or lock that she could feel. They were very solid and smooth and apparently seamlessly carved of one single piece of the strange, warm material. Even more strangely, the inside of the manacles was lined with a thick, soft fabric, presumably to keep them from chafing her skin. Whoever had restrained her seemed to have a certain amount of concern for her well-being, but she felt very helpless and scared. Who could possibly have done it? And WHY? This is NOT good...

Now her feet were in a position where she thought she could stand, with some effort. She felt as if her bones were filled with lead, though. But as she struggled to get her footing, the three machines, with more whirring and unnervingly precise and synchronized movements, gave a rapid step forward and, with a startling 'çlick', their turrets sprouted what seemed to be some type of rotary gun barrel with three muzzles.

Zava, wide eyed, noted that the turrets were aiming at her chest, keeping pace with her movements as she rotated her body to look warily at them. Looking down, she noticed there was a very thin, red beam connecting the machine's top 'eye' in front of her with the center of her chest, between her breasts. The thin red light was visible in the now thinning fog. No doubt there were other two similar beams, undoubtedly some kind of warning or gun sight, tracing from each machine. No matter how she moved, the beam kept, as if glued, on the same spot. This has to be a dream!

Moving one hand gingerly, she pinched the skin between her left thumb and index finger, almost drawing blood with her fingernail. The resulting pain demonstrated that this was NO dream... What in seven hells is going on?? Paying attention, she now heard, behind her, what seemed to be a muted noise, like a multitude of people talking, but far away... But the worst thing was that there had been no response from Mark... where was he? She could NOT bear the thought of him being lost... outdoors, even a cat or a weasel could carry him away...

The bizarreness of the situation was starting to unman her. Whoever had restrained would surely have nefarious intentions... I am a prisoner... what is HE going to do with me? It had to be a man or men, who is keeping me tied... Rape or a violent death at the hands of a deranged man, the worst fears of every woman, started to creep on her. In fetters as she was, she was at the complete mercy of her captor...

"Mark?? Answer me, please!" She shouted, desperation rising inside her. 

The only answer she got was a chorus of curiously muted screams behind her...

Afraid of what she would find, Zava swiveled her torso to look behind her, the machines menacingly tracking her every move. The sun had now dispersed the mist enough. She was in some kind of sandy surface covered with incredibly fine moss (or was it grass?), that she could feel on her fingers as she propped herself on the ground with her hands.

As she finished turning, Zava’s jaw dropped. There was what seemed like a miniature lighthouse, built from red clay bricks, about 12 feet high, at about 30 feet from her. But what astounded Zava was that below the lighthouse, and to its sides, there were hundreds of people. Little people, screaming and pointing at her. Strange, tiny flashes of light flickered among them, periodically. Many were holding over their head small square devices, pointing in her direction... some kind of cameras, as well?

The multitude was held back by a military barricade, manned by also dozens of miniature men in black riot gear. Beyond the barricade, and closer to her, but still at a distance, there were some military tents, including one rather large, near which there was a flag atop a pole, with red and white stripes, flapping in the wind. There were also some military vehicles, heavily armed and ready, surrounded by many soldiers in green fatigues. Most vehicles were facing her, as were what was obviously weapons on top of them, pointing in her general direction.

When she faced the soldiers and the men, she could see, amazed, how the multitude of people recoiled from the barrier, with panicked screams, and the soldiers closer to her (about 20 feet away), also started to retreat, warily. Even at this distance, she could see fear and astonishment in all these little men’s and women’s faces. They are deathly afraid of ME.

Zava’s jaw dropped even more as suddenly, what seemed like an oversized black and red bumblebee appeared flying from the direction of the multitude and whizzed past her head, buzzing noisily. Zava yelped and swatted at it, but it was too fast and effortlessly evaded her. As she moved her arm to swat at the bug, the sentinel machines gave an alarming howl, obviously disapproving of her flailing arm, so she stayed as still as she could, lowering her arm to her leg.

The strange bug kept flying around her, first at a little above head height, and then lowering to chest and then abdomen height, circling and circling slowly around. Then it flew up a little, to hover close to her face, but out of arm’s reach. She then could realize, stunned, that it was also a kind of machine, with what looked like a camera on board, scrutinizing her.

She continued to look at her surroundings.  In front of her the ground sloped downwards towards a cliff, before which there were some wooden fences, beyond which the sea could be seen. To her right and left, about 30 feet away, there were low dwarfed trees surrounding the grassy place where she was sitting. Behind her, the lighthouse. This whole situation seems so unreal… how did I possibly end up here… and where is Mark? The flying camera suddenly sped away whence it came.

She cautiously turned on her ass to face the tents and the lighthouse, as any answers were likely to come from there. She hugged her knees, still shivering, and not only from the cold. She did not have to wait long. When she faced the lighthouse, there was a kind of turmoil near the big tent, and soon two little figures came out of it, and started walking resolutely her way, with an armed escort of over twenty soldiers around them, heavily armed with what seemed to be portable cannons and large machine guns. They crossed a low stone wall that surrounded the lighthouse and stopped about ten feet from her.

Zava could now see that the two officers were a woman and a man. The woman gave the older man, probably the commander, what seemed to be a kind of loudspeaker. Tense with anticipation, she braced for what was coming. The commander faced her with the loudspeaker.

“This is colonel McAllister from the United States Air Force, Quonset Point Naval Air Station. Please identify yourself”. The little man said.

****

A little before this scene played out, colonel McAllister was lying in his private tent’s cot, replaying in his head the events of the last 24 hours, probably the most eerie and confusing hours of his whole life, when this mess landed in his lap. He was in charge of a situation that had already swept like a wildfire on all news agencies, channels and the internet, as it was bound to happen with an unprecedented event in the history of mankind. This had the potential to become a world-class clusterfuck.

He had been shuffling some paperwork in his office at Quonset base last evening when he received a distraught call from the Governor of Massachusetts himself, telling him Aquinnah police department had a situation that required immediate military presence, but refused to elaborate. McAllister immediately gave orders for three VTOL airships with fifty troops and three armed helicopters to be prepared and manned and he himself went on one to Martha’s Vineyard. As they crossed buzzards ‘bay, he saw several ferries packed with people heading for the island, obviously going to see the same thing he was heading towards.

He expected to see a foreign vessel or airship stranded there, probably a military one judging by the urgency in the Governor’s voice. Nothing could have prepared him from what he saw in the darkening twilight, as they did a flyby on Gay Head lighthouse, their destination. No wonder the governor refused to tell him anything. Everybody on the ship was speechless.

What looked like a giant woman was lying in the grassland in front of the lighthouse, near the cliffs. She was lying on her back, dressed in black tight shorts and a blue crop top that left her midriff bare. She was barefoot and seemed to be unconscious or asleep. Was this some kind of elaborate prank? They descended to the east of the lighthouse and he was promptly approached by an agitated police captain Joan LeLacheur.

She promptly assured him that it was no prank. After a sudden thunderstorm that seemed to come out of nowhere at about 2 PM had abated, the lighthouse keeper heard some strange bellowing sounds outside, so he came out and found a giant woman lying sprawled near the lighthouse. She was moaning in pain… seemingly unconscious. He immediately called the police, who soon realized they had no way of restraining the woman if she awakened, so they requested military presence.

 She was no hologram or dummy. It was a human, although of gigantic proportions, and she was alive, as confirmed by her breathing noises and a LeLacheur herself, who had touched her wrist, feeling a strong pulse. They had to act quickly before the media got wind of the situation and gawkers started pouring in, said LeLacheur. McAllister agreed. He immediately requested additional support in the shape of more troops and three sentinel walking drones armed with armor-piercing shells, and a carbon nanotube 3D-printer to build the shackles needed to restrain the giantess. LeLacheur, in the meantime established a perimeter with a riot control squad. His troops were already establishing a camp.

McAllister hoped they could have everything in place before the titanic being woke up, surely scared and liable to cause a lot of damage, if unchecked. Where did she come from? Was she perhaps the victim of a twisted experiment? And how did she get here, all the way to the island, without anybody noticing? A few troops did some reconnaissance at the base of the cliffs near the sea, beyond the lighthouse, but no giant footprints had been seen.

No tracks also in the grass near the lighthouse. and judging by the deep furrows the thrashing of the unconscious giant left in the earth each time she moved, it was obvious that more tracks should be everywhere. Did she fall from the sky? He also called for a Homeland Security team to establish the identity of the woman and provide possible medical support. When they arrived from Boston, it was over six hours after the woman had been found. Some troops helped the bewildered medical team to set up a portable lab and warily approached the colossal girl to draw blood and try to get fingerprints, as a drone equipped with a 3D scanner performed a capture of the girl’s features and body for analysis. The general accompanied them. As they worked hastily near her giant right hand (the left was lying on her belly, and nobody was going to climb her body to get there), he also took the opportunity to touch the giant fingers. They were thick-skinned, but unmistakably alive, warm, and human, with fingerprints and all. He could even smell her perfume and her sweat...

As they returned to camp, LeLacheur informed him that the first people had been starting to arrive to the checkpoints and crowd control barricades, as were some news crews with drones and photographers. It was now too dark for them to see everything, but he expected that in a few hours, after dawn, it would become a veritable circus, no doubt being broadcasted worldwide. Soon, he was notified that the 3D printer had arrived.

McAllister went to the medical team’s tent. Dr. Poole, a young woman in a blue labcoat was leaning over an analysis console, frowning at the screen; her assistants were scurrying around the improvised lab. McAllister was now also thinking of the logistical nightmare of feeding the giant when it woke up, not to mention taking care of the resulting excreta, and how to give the woman some privacy and shelter. He already had been informed by his second in command, major Restrepo, that there were no vehicles capable of hauling the woman by air or by the narrow roads in the island. She would have to walk on her own to the port or to the beach, to be carried elsewhere… how are we going to transport her, and where the hell are we going to take her?

“Dr. Poole, what can you tell me of this woman” Said McAllister, wearily,

“Well, colonel. I’m afraid there is more that I cannot tell you. Her face or fingerprints do not match any federal database, nor any international one I have access to, and given the fact this could be a national crisis, I have been given clearance to CIA’s databases as well. We ran DNA queries and had zero matches in parentage or first-level ID whatsoever”.

“What about ethnicity” queried the colonel. “She seems to be a Latina or perhaps middle-eastern”

“No, colonel, as a matter of fact the DNA results were so out of whack that I ran them several times, to no avail”

“What do you mean? Is she some kind of genetic construct or something?”.

“I do not think any government or private research facility exists with the tech to come up with something like this, and even less considering my other findings… the results are not only inconsistent, but unreal”

“Please elaborate, we do not have much time”

“Colonel, DNA on Earth ALWAYS coils right handed. But this woman’s DNA coils LEFT. Because of that, our tests yield no results at all, as they depend on the geometry of the molecule to react with the enzymes we use to do the gene separation and mapping. At first, I thought she might be some kind of synthetic android, but on a hunch I ran some spectrographs and I discovered that the chirality, that is, the side of the molecules coil themselves on, is merely reversed on the DNA of this being. More tests have yielded similar results for some of the tissue samplings we took. Many, but not all of the amino acids and proteins from her body are reversed”

“Reversed as compared to what” Said the colonel, already guessing and fearing the answer. Looking him in the eye, doctor Poole said, ominously.

“Reversed, as compared with similar compounds on EVERY living being on Earth. This being, resembling a human woman, is alive, but NOT human as us, although probably a sentient person. There is a very strong, almost certain possibility this being is NOT of this Earth; its chirality, that is, the orientation of the organic molecules that make up it… her being are reversed, although not entirely, only some of them”

“Are you sure this could not be a construct?” said a dismayed McAllister

“Making a being of this scale and complexity from the ground up, even building individual left-handed molecules of DNA AND right-handed proteins, the reverse of all known life on Earth, would make it impossible. Hell, even now, in 2035, there is NO way anyone could build something like this with the correct chirality, not to mention the size”.

“By occam’s razor, I take it is more likely that she came here on a spaceship from another world?”

“Or another dimension, for all we know. It almost certainly, I mean she almost certainly did not originate on this planet. It has certain disquieting implications, as well”.

“What could be more disquieting that having an alien in our midst… could more be coming?” Mcallister shuddered at the thought of facing a squad of armed troops and weapons of the woman’s scale. He had touched the giant girl’s clothes. They were some kind of spandex, obviously the product of an advanced industrial society, not made by a bunch of giant, barbarian cavewomen and men. If they came at them with armed aircraft and bombs, they would be crushed. However, given the gender and dress of the woman, she seemed to be a civilian… it would be better to keep her in good condition should her fellow aliens come looking for her.

“No idea” continued Dr. Poole. “But we do not know if we can communicate with her… what language could she speak that we could understand? And with all that altered biochemistry, can she eat the food we give her?” Mcallister paled at the thought of having to deal with a giant woman vomiting her guts out, and or with diarrhea… or dying from food poisoning in front of the world’s media.

“She could be carrying some pathogens, and we have no way of knowing if they will be more or less virulent to Earth’s population given their different organic make up. If that is the case, the damage is already done…” Ended Dr. Poole grimly. Clusterfuck indeed. “But I do not think so, she seems to be healthy and it is more likely genetic incompatibility make any pathogens she may be carrying harmless to us, and vice-versa.  A team of experts from CDC (Center for Disease Control and Prevention) is already heading this way from Atlanta… and other thing I have just thought of: there is no safe way to tranquilize her; Anything of that entering her bloodstream could kill potentially kill her or have any number of unpredictable and harmful side effects. Also, a human of her proportions cannot have evolved on Earth, she is too heavy… but too slim. If she remains here much longer, bone and heart problems are sure to develop”.

“Dr. Poole. I do not have to tell you that the possibility that the woman is an alien should NOT be communicated to anyone outside this tent” Poole assented.

“Of course. But, colonel,  there are some public health concerns we musts see to. We’ll have to insert a catheter inside her to collect her urine (can’t have her pissing all over this limited space) and please have a team ready of your troops to collect and carry away any other resulting excreta, whether she wakes up or not”. McAllister winced as he thought of the task of undressing the giant and sticking a hose into her privates… or making his troops shovel a truck filled with giant human feces… not to mention having to suffer (and keep the spectators from seeing) the procedure of said excreta coming out… and the resulting cleaning of the giant’s body… this was going to be interesting, to say the least.

McAllister thanked Dr. Poole and left to oversee the operation to restrain the… alien, and find some hose to make the cathether, get a fire truck to wash the giantess’ body and get a truck and shovels to carry away the shit. He approached major Restrepo and gave the necessary orders.

Major Restrepo, a Latino woman of strong complexion, took notes and then faced the colonel.

“Colonel. We have finished analyzing the 3D scan taken by the drone and biometrics are calculated. The gravitonics carbon shackles will be printed in 10 minutes. The woman is approximately 24.3 meter high, and weighs over 140 tons. We have no vehicle or vessel capable of supporting such weight…. Airlifting her is out of the question, too. If she does not wake up, we’ll have to build a giant tarp around her…. if she wakes up, we’ll have to… convince her to walk on her own to the beach below so we can carry her off…. In any case, the sentinel drones are already in place and configured”. McAllister did not tell Restrepo the woman was likely an alien, of course. “We also estimate we’ll need at least 3 tons of food and 6000 gallons of water ready to keep her fed each day if she wakes up… or 12000 gallons of drip feed if she does not wake up, each day”

“I want you to print handcuffs as well. There is no telling how strong she is, and I do not want her grabbing anyone to keep him or her as a hostage…” Or kill them, he thought grimly.

“How are going to put those on her? That would require cranes as it is” said Restrepo.

“If she does not wake up, they won’t be needed. If she wakes up, we’ll have to persuade her to put those on herself. In any case, I do not want ANYONE within 20 meters of her”. He ordered. “Any chance she has any weapons on herself?”

“We have not searched her, of course, but her clothes are just too tight for any obvious weapon to be concealed. The scan detected nothing metallic on her… person. If she has anything on, it could be at her back, under her, and it would have to be ceramic or carbon”.

Ten minutes later, a team of 10 very scared soldiers had put on the shackles on each of her feet. A construction truck was tied to one of her ankles and used to get her ankles together, and then the shackles were joined together. Then they all retreated, relieved, to a safe distance. She did not stir during the procedure. The possibility she was in a coma and NEVER woke up was high, as was the possibility that she woke up disturbed, scared and violent. Or weepy and terrified…  how would he make her understand, if she did not speak any Earth language, that he had orders (the President, no less had called him as the shackles were being put in place) to use deadly force with the drones if she tried to run into the crowd. The President was NOT happy when McAllister informed him of the disquieting findings of Dr. Poole and her Homeland Security staff. In any case, orders had been given to keep the woman safe, clean and fed; preparations were already in place for that. There still was the possibility she was an American, somehow.

McAllister had fallen asleep while musing on this, when Restrepo came into the tent, wide eyed, to shake him awake.

“Colonel, we have some activity”. He hastily donned his helmet and stepped out to a camp lit by dawn.

“She has just spoken English, colonel” said Restrepo, excited.

“What did she say?”

“She woke up, sat up and noticed the Sentinels. Then she started calling for a Mark. She actually screamed his name, it’s a wonder you slept through that”. Said a breathless Restrepo. “The crowd is in a panic”.

“Get me the loudspeaker. We need to talk to her before she gets more agitated”.

A few minutes later, McAllister, with some escort, approached the giant girl. She was sitting, huddled and hugging her knees. Trembling with fear, cold or both. The look on her very, very young and comely face was one of perplexity. She clearly was as amazed of them as they were of her.

Now in daylight, McAllister could see that she was a young woman probably just out of her teens, slender and athletic, and bronze-skinned; she could be the age of his daughter. Her hair was straight but tangled, with dark, intelligent eyes that looked at them steadily from over 10 meters above the ground. She was massive. He was not psychologically prepared to face a being of her scale, probably larger and heavier that any whale. He had no doubt that if the gravitonics shackles and the drones weren’t around, she could wipe the floor probably with all his troops by just kicking and stomping them before she could be brought down. Steeling himself, he took the loudspeaker from Restrepo and said:

“This is colonel McAllister from the United States Air Force, Quonset Point Naval Air Station. Please identify yourself”.

For a heart stopping instant, the woman seemed to look at them, uncomprehending. As McAllister, dismayed, prepared to repeat himself, she spoke, with a womanly but booming voice two octaves too low.

“I’m Zava Casafus… where am I”.

“This is the town of Aquinnah, in the island of Martha’s Vineyard, on the state of Massachusetts. You are in territory of the United States of America”. Said McAllister, legs trembling. “Please state your provenance and purpose”.

“I… don’t know… I mean, I come from the state of Bitagweh, city of Hewtwango…. But I suppose these places would not mean anything to you” she said, dejected.

The woman spoke clear, unbroken English, if strangely accented with a singsong tone, and a strong, un-American and un-British weird emphasis in her T’s and R’s.

“How did you come here”

“I have no idea. The last I remember I was on a hike with my… husband, and we took refuge in a cave. There was a thunderstorm, and I got suddenly dizzy…it seems I passed out and hit my head against the ground” Zava Said. “his name is Mark Wilson… is he with you… please let me see him”

The possibility of having not ONE, but TWO giants around briefly troubled the colonel, but just as quickly he realized that although he had never heard the name Zava nor the last name she mentioned, Mark Wilson could be an American name.

“Is Mark an American?” said McAllister.

“Oh yes! He is from Los Angeles… please tell me is he is safe”

The fact that this woman was married to someone from LA just gave the whole matter a very unexpected twist, thought McAllister. Had she somehow become enlarged and her molecules twisted by a freak dimensional accident, as going through a mirror?

“What country are you from?” Asked McAllister.

“I told you, I’m from Bitagweh”. Said Zava. Her look of fear was now gone, replaced by a determined look. McAllister looked at Restrepo, who shrugged her shoulders and produced her smartphone, ready to google it.

“Could you spell that, please”, said Mcallister.

“It would be useless… it is not on this world, I know”.  McAllister, with an inner groan, could hear the collective gasp of the crowd and soldiers behind him, as she herself confirmed she was an Alien in front of everyone. Given her accent, not to mention her impossible size, it was impossible to doubt it.

“So you’re not an American, not even an Earthling, but are married to one… how?”

“He crashed on my world some years back, on a ship called the Spindrift. But I understand they should be back now, as the ship was eventually fixed and left”. Zava explained. “ He remained in my world and we live together”.

The name Spindrift was familiar to McAllister, who turned to Restrepo. Restrepo said:

“Yes, the Spindrift was a ship that was lost about five years ago in a suborbital L.A.-London flight. They came back roughly a year ago, pretty ragged, thin and only four of the original seven. There was no talk of aliens, much less giant ones. The tale was that it had somehow gone through an unknown relativistic singularity and some passengers and crew was lost to unknown phenomena. It was all over the tubes when they returned”.

“Excuse me” boomed the giant Zava, interrupting a conversation she obviously could not hear. “Please tell me if Mark is safe”

“We have no idea if he is here. No one with that name has come forward”. The giant face visibly paled. As the woman seemed to be cooperative, McAllister decided to push it.

“Miss... Zava. We have been given orders to keep you fed and safe. But we have also been given orders to keep you restrained. This is standard procedure. I will have to ask you to cooperate and let us handcuff you to your back. Your feet will remain shackled, as well, but if you cooperate with this and give me your word you’ll comply with our instructions and not attempt to escape, grab or otherwise harm anyone, the foot shackles will separate, allowing you more mobility”.

“I will not resist you”. Said Zava dolefully, looking at the ground. McAllister could see, with a stab to his heart, the tears started flowing out of her eyes and running down her lovely face. He turned to Restrepo:

"Get me Homeland Security. We need to find and question these people from the Spindrift. They have a lot of explaining to do".

Betty Hamilton was enjoying her day off from her job as chief purser (senior flight attendant) on her Boston apartment. Her boyfriend, Os Kumar, was in Mumbai for a business trip. Alone, she did not feel like doing anything that involved the slightest effort, so she was in her couch enjoying an e-book lazing it out.

She zoned out of the book after a while, taking a little time to enjoy her surroundings: plush couch, a warm blanket, coffee mug and a bottle of wine within reach; a loving man her own size at her disposal and just a few taps on her cellphone away.  

Despite having spent more than a year back on Earth, she still found it incredible that she was out of that horrible place with giant people, bad and scarce food and total lack of amenities and comforts that she now again took for granted. She was determined to enjoy her new life, for if her stay in the Land of the Giants had taught her anything, was that life was short and easily terminated without notice. After all, Dan, Fitzhugh and Mark had not made it out of that damn planet.

Dan was ignominiously stepped on by schoolchildren. Fitzhugh was crushed to death in the hands of a madwoman. Mark had been lost; he had walked out and never returned the day before their miraculous comeback, with only a few written farewell lines that left no clue to why or where he left.

The only bad part of returning were the lies. They had talked long with captain Burton, and all were convinced that telling the truth of their stay in an alien planet populated by giants would be a bad idea. So they came up with that stupid singularity story, rehearsed it well and everybody bought it, even the distraught relatives of Dan. Only Valerie had risked publishing her Valerie in Giantland book, but as fiction that nobody took seriously. Betty had not told the truth even to Os, it was futile.

Now fully distracted from her book, she started browsing her newsfeed when a familiar face on a video thumbnail caught her attention. She tapped on it on her tablet and it started playing. To her astonishment, the video showed video taken from a drone, of a giant woman, staring, wide eyed and mouth agape, at the camera, as it filmed her while circling her titanic body. Narration said the video was from events unfolding in Martha’s Vineyard: a giant woman appeared out of nowhere near the Gay Head lighthouse on the island. The air force and the police, along with hundreds of onlookers, were at the site.

“Zava???” blurted Betty, as she watched, in disbelief, at her giant acquaintance on video.

She scrolled for related news. There were many, with several photographs of the giant girl. There were even some transcripts of her exchange with the local air force commander. It appeared she even admitted to being an extra-terrestrial… Reading on eagerly, she caught sight of the name of Mark Wilson, who she said lived with her, but was not found at the site, or elsewhere. It was now clear Mark had left to go to her, and they had lived together ever since… at least he was not dead!

Was it possible that somehow, Mark had traveled here with her giant girlfriend without a spaceship? But how? And why wasn’t Mark with her? Suddenly, a message arrived. It was from Lucy, one of her coworkers and old friend. Reading it, her eyes widened again; she saved on her address book the contact she had been sent. She then left her couch to find something to wear, her purse and a bag.

Two hours later, she was stepping through the door on Martha’s vineyard hospital. She was wearing jeans and a black jacket to combat the autumn’s chill; she had a small cloth bag, stuffed with some of Os old clothes. She found the chief nurse, whom she had called from the airport, and followed her to one of the patients’ room. It was a rather spare room, with no TV and only a small nightstand. According to the nurse, Mark had insisted on getting a phone call and then he called PanAmerican Airlines, where he asked around until he finally stumbled upon a HR representative (Lucy) who knew Betty and agreed to give her a message with his location.

In the room, to her relief, she found Mark. He was laying on a bed, dressed on a light green hospital robe, of course, but was tied with rubber restraints to it, immobilized. He was awake, and beamed at her as the two women came into the room. The nurse produced a tablet.

“Hello, Betty! Glad to see you made it!” Said Mark.

“Mark! I… we thought you were dead!” exclaimed Betty, coming near the bed to hug Mark, who, of course, being tied, could only rest his head on his friend’s shoulders. He was pale, as someone who does not get out much. His dirty blond hair was quite long, beyond his shoulders. Otherwise, he seemed to be fine.

 “Miss Hamilton, as I told you on the phone, Mark was found naked and unconscious near Totem Pole Inn; local police brought him here yesterday evening” said the nurse, mostly to Mark’s benefit. “he does not show up on the biometric database, so we have not been able to confirm his identity. He says he has been away and presumed dead for more than five years, a wild tale if there ever was one, but one which would explain his absence from the database, as the records are purged after three years from public domain when death is confirmed or legally acknowledged. As he was found with a strange substance caked to his body, he was presumed to be on drugs. He is restrained until toxicology reports are ready, but if you vouch for him he can go; he is completely healthy, at least his body is”.

“I do. Please let him go. We need to take care of some business, together”. Said Betty. Mark looked at her, uncomprehending. Betty saw that he was oblivious… as he had no cell phone and no TV, presumably to avoid agitating a possibly disturbed patient, he had no idea of Zava’s predicament.

Assenting, the nurse deftly removed the restraints, and with a last wave to Mark, left the room.  Betty and Mark were left alone.

“Thank you for coming to get me, Betty, I’m glad I could find you… I know I owe you guys and explanation…” Started Mark, subdued, but Betty cut him short.

“Mark, I brought you some clothes” said Betty, producing a t-shirt, jeans and a pair of black crocs, these bought at the airport. “Please get dressed… we’ve got lots to talk about… a lot to do… tell me on the way”.

“On the way to where?”

“To help Zava”.

The walk to the parking lot, and the first few minutes of the ride on the car Betty had rented went on in awkward silence. Finally, Mark said:

“Betty. I see you are still mad at me for leaving abruptly back then…”

After a small, additional moment of taciturnity, Betty sighed and said:

“Shouldn’t I be? I was worried sick when you left! Cried myself to sleep for a week even after we returned to Earth!! You were the third one of us to disappear… my only friend on that damn planet… you know I did not see eye to eye with Burton… Valerie only tolerated me because I was the only other woman there… Barry was just a kid! And almost half of us were now gone or dead! What if the ship failed in mid-flight? You were the only one that could fix it if something went wrong!!! How could you be so selfish?? You ditched us with only three lines in the FlyLog as explanation??!” Betty blurted out.

“The Spindrift didn’t fail…” Say Mark, in dismay. Clearly, he had underestimated Betty’s reaction to his departure from the team.

“It could have!!!”, Betty almost shouted. Visibly upset, she pulled the car over at the roadside. She glared at Mark.

“I was reasonably certain it would not fail. I admit I was selfish. But I think I had been selfless long enough. I took a gamble, and I won, I think; No, make that two gambles: Zava accepted me, and you, all of you made it back to Earth”. Declared Mark. Betty continued to glare for a few seconds, then looked away, gripping the steering wheel.

“I… we thought you were off to kill yourself or do something foolish!!... and I was not entirely wrong… The last few months you really changed… you were too quiet, too detached, too pensive… I thought you were simply worried with the ship’s repairs… should ‘a realized… ” Betty said, voice trembling, avoiding Mark’s gaze.

“C’mon Betty, give me a break… haven’t you ever been in love?”

“Is that what it is? Love? I did not think you were a cradle robber!! What was all that talk of calling Zava a child when we spent the night at her house? What a hypocrite!!! It’s like I never knew you!”

“Never been surer of anything in my life. Look at me, Betty”, said Mark. Betty, reluctantly, made eye contact with her friend. “I LOVE Zava, and she loves me back” Mark went on. “We have been together all this time. It has been the best year of my life. She is my soulmate, the love of my life…. I would die for her! My only regret is I did not have the guts to go see her sooner than I did… and perhaps not telling you, but I was not sure you… anyone… would understand. I barely understood it back then. I was sure Burton would have tried to restrain me… and I… would have had to fight him. The others would need him to get back to Earth”.

“Perhaps you’re right… I would not have understood… Burton certainly would not have” Replied Betty. “I reckon what bothered me more is that I did not see it coming. I did not realize you were planning to leave us. I did not think you and Zava shared any kind of connection… I thought that time we were with her was like so many other times with other giants”

“No.  When you were in the bathroom and Zava and I were alone…. Things happened between us” Said Mark, reluctantly. “After she let us go, I just could not stop thinking of her… and I knew, in my heart, that there was something there. Something worth pursuing.  I was right”.

Well, Betty thought, Zava HAD indicated that she was romantically or physically interested in Mark, who however managed to conceal having any inclination towards the giant girl.  Betty had thought, though, that a human and a giant being lovers was simply too outrageous to happen. Obviously, she had been wrong about that and about a number of other things.

Mark then told Betty a brief recollection of how he went back to look for Zava, how they ended up joining their lives and how they were living together, as a couple, and making a living of their combined abilities. He finished the tale with the last day with the hike to the cave.

“… and after the last thunder strike there was a blinding blue flash… Zava, holding me in her hand, just… toppled over. I felt like I was being squeezed through a crack too small to fit through… and then I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital, tied to the bed, obviously back on Earth, without Zava. I was completely bewildered! They treated me like a madman or a junkie, I did not show up in the databases, they said I was found naked in a ditch. Nobody said anything about Zava, and I was afraid to bring it up lest they thought I really was insane! I have no idea how I got here… and worse: I thought I had lost her forever!!”.

“I… understand”. Said Betty, deeply moved, seeing the sincerity in her friend’s eyes. “Mark, as a matter of fact, when we returned, we also kept the truth of our stay in giantland (that’s what we Spindrift survivors call it now) a secret. I have not even told my fiancée, for crying out loud… even with the pics we took we would have been thought loopy… giant aliens… dimensional rifts… Jesus, I barely believe it myself, even now!” Betty said, shaking her head.

“Anyway, Mark, sorry for my outburst. We need to hurry, now. I know where Zava is: she is here on Earth too, in this same island, and in real trouble! We must help her! We… I owe it to her. If she had not freed us from the clutches of that psycho bitch Millan…. We would probably have died there.  What she would have done to Valerie was just sick!”

Contemplative, Betty handed him her tablet, with the feed packed with Zava’s videos, pics and news. Mark took it, and started playing the videos, and skimming over the news articles. He gritted his teeth. The look of absolute bafflement, dejection and terror in Zava’s face on the videos and photos made Mark’s heart break. She was barefoot, scantily clad, surrounded by hundreds of gawkers, in shackles, being held by the military, with killer war robots pointing artillery weapons at her! And she probably thought she was alone in a planet alien to her, with zero chance of going back to her homeworld, of being together again!

Mark had no doubt that the only reason the government had not taken her to a secret facility and made her disappear to study her was that she was simply too large to contain, too big to hide, too heavy to haul off. As a result of these three qualities, she was also too conspicuous, as she had by now been seen by hundreds of people in person and by hundreds of millions on video; she was already a world sensation.

Browsing around, in several news outlets, he saw, there was live feed from the site they kept her at. Right now, Mark could see she was lying on the ground, on her side… she seemed to be talking to some of the soldiers that surrounded her.

The government really was going to have a hard time dealing with her now that the public had seen her, thankfully.

Indeed, she was the story of the century, or the millennium, even! First contact! The first extra-terrestrial being, and a sentient being at that, was confirmed to exist, beyond any doubt… and she had made it to Earth! Besides, she was a beautiful, 20 meter tall young woman! All the ingredients for awesomeness were there!

However, it was only a matter of time before politicians, or the infamous military-industrial complex found some way to spin things, so they had an excuse, or the means, to have their way with her. Hell, they could even build a tent over her and vivisect her right there when the public, always fickle, lost interest, in a few months!  Then they could carry her away in pieces. Mark shuddered at the thought.

 “I said we have to help her” said Betty, breaking Mark out of his ghastly reverie. “But I have no idea how… what can the two of us do against the government and the military? It’s not like we can sneak in and whisk her away from where they have her.  If we knew how you got here we could try to reverse the process”. She looked at Mark hopefully.

“We were in a freaking cave in the middle of nowhere when it happened! I’m afraid I do not have the slightest clue of how we could have been teleported from there to here, for teleported we were, that’s for sure. I have no clear idea of where exactly the planet of the giants lies relative to Earth: it could be in the next solar system or across the galaxy or even in another galaxy”. Answered Mark. “I take the Spindrift made it to the same dimensional rift that carried us to giantland, since you made it back to Earth?”.

Betty nodded.

“Yes. The rift is still just outside of Earth’s orbit, geosynchronous with the planet. The area is now mapped so no aircraft collides with it”, added Betty. “No other dimensional rifts have been found, much less on the Earth’s surface”

“Also,” continued Mark,  ”I was not actively doing anything (how the heck would I have??) to try to get back to Earth”. Said Mark. “Have there been any breakthroughs in teleportation while we were off-planet?”

 “No.” Answered Betty. “as far as I know, it is still strictly in the realm of science fiction”….

As were dimensional vortexes, thought Mark…

“There is no way a spaceship will be able to lift a 100 ton-over woman to orbit to reach the dimensional opening, either”, he added.

Mark and Betty remained silent for a few seconds… then Mark said, ominously:

“I am afraid there is nothing the two of us can do.”

“So, you are going to leave her to her fate?!?” Said Betty, aghast and indignantly.

“Far from it” Said Mark, crossly. “But we will need help. I think the only way to save Zava will be getting as much exposure as we can, and soon, before the government stops us or does something to Zava. We need to show the American people, and the world at large, that Zava is not a threat” Mark added.

 “Indeed, we need to make them see her as unique, as a national treasure” he continued, his face lighting up with inspiration. “And unique she is! The only giantess on Earth! A visitor from another world! We have to make her into a celebrity, something so big, so notorious that they have to leave her… leave us be”.

 Mark was now full of hope. She had been special on her planet; on Earth, Zava truly was one of a kind, and also, so beautiful and sexy, so kind, so smart and charismatic that he had no doubt people and the media would love her. She was definitely star material!

“By the way, according to the news, Zava said the two of you were married… how did you ever manage that?” Said Betty.

“Of course we could not marry… the government there was still after us earthlings. That did not change… wait… she said that I was her husband?” Said Mark.

“Oh, yes” laughed Betty.

Illumination! He now knew what would be the cherry on the cake to his plans, thought Mark, delighted.

“We’ll have to do something about that, too” Said Mark, ponderingly. “Betty, before we get to the lighthouse we’ll need a computer, we’ll need money”  he said, looking at his friend pleadingly… “I’ll pay you later, as soon as I can reestablish my identity and can access my bank accounts… I’m fairly well off, as you know”.

“No worries… remember that gold emerald necklace we took that time we were in that funeral parlor?” Said Betty, grinning. “That’s how I bought the apartment I have now! At least I managed to get something good of that hellhole of a planet”.

After the other shackles were printed, McAllister bid Zava to submit to the procedure of being handcuffed. By then she had calmed quite a bit and she was ordered to kneel, and put both hands on the ground in front of her. As she did so, first, a few soldiers approached, carrying the carbon rings while looking up uneasily at her carefully blank face and bulging chest hanging over them. One was affixed to each one of her wrists and then she was told to put them behind her back, one on top of the other. They immediately stuck together.

She was told that the handcuffs and the ankle shackles were equipped with gravitonics, so each cuff could become as heavy as a quarter of her body weight, and the weight could be activated remotely or by sudden or too rapid movements on her part. As soon as the handcuffs were in place, the ankle fetters dislodged from each other, although each individual carbon ring remained around each ankle.

“Can I stand for a while? I need to stretch my legs a little”. Said Zava to colonel McAllister, who was close by overseeing the procedures and watching her closely. He acquiesced with a nod, and she rose to her feet with a grunt. Mark had said once that Earth’s gravity was 30% greater than that of her world, and she could believe it now: she felt as if two Zavas were riding piggyback on top of her.

As soon as she stood, she got a bit dizzy and her sight threatened to become darker at the corners. She breathed deeply, swaying a little until she steadied herself. She did two slow sit-ups, and stretched her legs, doing the same with her arms, as far as the cuffs let her, and bending over to stretch her back.

Standing straight and with feet slightly apart, she again surveyed her surroundings from her full height, this time. If anything, the number of little people beyond the barricades had increased, doubled, at least.

As she stood, a murmur of awe rippled through the throng of onlookers. There were people of all ages in the crowd; she even could see some children on top of their parents’ shoulders, and some peddlers selling their wares, probably ice cream or drinks. They are here to see the giant alien, she thought wryly and a little bitterly. If her hands were loose, she would have waved to them, she thought. The number of troops had also increased. The walking, armed automatons had become quiescent since she was handcuffed, though.

A chill wind was blowing, making her shiver. Zava was more than a bit uncomfortable with all these people, however little they were, looking at her, from the low angle of their small stature, in her meager clothing, and barefoot… looking down to her chest, she noticed with an inner groan that the cold made her nipples show noticeably through the thin and tight fabric of her top; her scarf was nowhere to be seen. She felt horribly exposed.

For a while now, she had noticed the soldiers looking at her legs and bust (no doubt those behind her gawked at her ass, too) with barely dissimulate curiosity, even the female troops, which were probably a bit less than a third of the troops. For how long are they going to make me stay on this field?  Not forever, I hope…

She could see the road in front of the lighthouse was awfully narrow, though, so she supposed that she would have to leave walking, as it was unlikely they had any vehicles capable of transporting her that could negotiate that road. And where, exactly, would they make me go? Probably to some kind of secret facility, like a secured and remote military base where they can interrogate me… and experiment on and interrogate me at their leisure, as the SID planned to do to Mark and the rest of the little people… besides the obvious reasons, she did not want to be locked up, as Mark would not be able to find her or allowed to see her in such a place… if he ever made it here, that is. Why is he not here with me? How did we become separated? Is he now all alone, helpless and unprotected in that cave? And, more importantly, how the hell was I transported here all the way from my world? This whole situation is INSANE!

Now that she thought about it, as how she had made it here was unknown, it was very, very unlikely she would ever leave this planet. Before, she thought she had comprehended the choice Mark made when he decided not to join his crewmates back to his world to stay with her. But now that she was facing the reality of never seeing her friends and family ever again, stranded in an alien world, surrounded by hostile people, she acquired a new level of respect and affection for her little man… being surrounded by hundreds of ankle-high midgets as she was, was not as unsettling, though, she thought, as being in a world of giants, as the one Mark had had to endure.

She was not sure at all she would be able to keep her sanity here for long, without him. She felt utterly isolated. I miss you so much already… please take care of yourself… please find me… I know you can. She resisted the creeping, pessimistic certainty that from now on all she would have from Mark were the sweet memories of the (so little) time they had together. Gritting her teeth, she held back tears, as well. She did not want to show weakness in front of these people.

Feeling mortally tired after just a few minutes of standing (gravity is a bitch) she lay on the ground on her side, trying not to turn her back and ass to the multitude, but also not facing them. Lying there without a pillow or being able to put an arm under her head was very uncomfortable. She was sure she would get a pain in the neck or the back soon, and her ass was already sore from laying for so long on the hard ground. If she was made to spend another day like this, out in the open… She saw more little people approaching, with medical-looking suits. This is not going to end soon. it’s going to be long, hard and boring as fuck, but I’m even more afraid of this situation changing; for if it changes, it can easily get worse. If they interrogate me, I would not have anything to say, which is bound to only make them more suspicious. It surely would not get better, so she set herself to endure.

****

Earlier, as Zava had asked permission to stand, and McAllister had granted it, he had to suppress the instinct to cower as Zava towered over them. She was unimaginably big. He could see the enormous muscles of her thighs flex and unflex under her smooth skin as she did two sit ups, displaying her magnificent behind, then and then as she stood again, surveying the crowd with cool eyes as she stretched her back, legs and arms. The rest of her body was equally impressive… and well made. 

Restrepo’s jaw, beside him, had dropped as Zava’s long toes churned the earth deeply as her stance shifted.  McAllister had no doubt the island’s paved roads would fare no better under them. Looking around, he could see also the rest of his troops (and the crowd) falling under the spell of the scantily clad, shapely woman… nobody could keep his or her eyes away from the towering, statuesque giantess. “Jue-pu-ta” Restrepo cursed softly beside him in Spanish as the female officer looked up from Zava’s comparatively dainty feet up her doubtless powerful legs.

He was distracted from the giantess-gazing as he saw Dr. Poole approach, with a pair of assistants in HAZMAT clothing.

“Colonel, the CDC staff has arrived. We’ll need to take some mouth swabs, hair samples, and, as they become available, other bodily fluids from the…” McAllister saw Dr. Poole looked around, clearly trying to choose the right word… regarding the people that surrounded them, and obviously trying to avoid the word ‘alien’.

“Mrs. Casafus. Let’s call her that”, he interjected. Despite the public admittance of the giant woman being an extra-terrestrial in front of everyone (the media surely were drooling with excitement right now), calling the young, if immense woman, an alien, or prisoner, just sounded wrong. Because of the undoubtedly human, if oversized, appearance of Zava, and the fact that she spoke, clear, if sexily accented English, it sounded foolish to keep calling her an alien, as if she was some eldritch monstrosity. Calling her a prisoner, although technically true, had nuances that McAllister felt were…uncomfortable, somehow. Why not use her name? It sounded right.

Sudden movement from the looming female above caught their attention. Zava was kneeling, then sat down and finally lay down on the ground on her side with a tired grunt. He raised the loudspeaker.

“Miss Casafus. We’ll need to take some tissue samples to test them for the presence of possible diseases you could be carrying from your world” McAllister suddenly decided to completely drop the pretense and acknowledge the now public fact that she was an otherworldly being. Just pretending otherwise would be derisible, after all. As she was addressed to, the giant female’s large, serene eyes focused on him, unsettlingly sharp. “Again, standard procedure”, he reassured her as he saw her concerned look.

“Just tell me what to do”. Boomed Zava, flushing unexpectedly, her head lying on the ground, sideways. McAllister saw Dr. Poole and the CDC people take a look at the giant woman and then exchange an uneasy look between them.

They had earlier approached the then slumbering giantess to take the first samples, and everyone was pretty unnerved by the proximity of the 150+ ton prone being. But approaching the same being awake while she was looking at you, shackles or no shackles, was an entirely different proposition, and they were going to be up close and personal with her. There had been no talk of the catheter again, doubtlessly because now that Zava was awake, bringing it up to her was going to be very, very awkward. But it was just a matter of time before Zava had to ‘go’, and it was going to be uncomfortable for everyone, particularly for Zava, to relieve her bowels practically in front of the whole world.

As the CDC people started to prepare for their sample-taking, McAllister frowned at the giant woman, fidgeting as she lay on the ground, obviously uncomfortable as hell, and getting even more soil, twigs and grass on her hair; her clothes were smeared with dirt and getting grubbier by the minute from rubbing with the wet, red earth of the field.  He could also see goosebumps on her naked arms.

Having her another day like this, or even a few hours, was tantamount to torture, he thought. Also, the weather forecast indicated high possibility of rain at night; there was no way they could get a tarp big enough to cover all of her before it got dark. At this rate she was going to get pneumonia before they were prepared to take her elsewhere. 

The report from logistics was not encouraging, either. It was now confirmed that they had no vehicle, sea ship or airship capable of carrying her, even with gravitonics, as they could not sustain such a heavy object for long without overheating; they were only fit for short bursts. Fortunately, food and drink were on the way, Restrepo informed him.

She was too damn big and too damn heavy. Getting her off the island was going to be a technical and logistical nightmare. This whole situation is unsustainable, he reflected. They were woefully unprepared, but who could have foreseen this? He turned to Restrepo:

“Keep the shackles on, but let’s separate the handcuffs as soon as the CDC people finish. We’ll have to feed her soon and she is liable to choke if we make her eat on her back… this is no way to keep a prisoner” and much less a woman, he thought.

“Let’s try to find something, a circus tent or anything of the sort to cover her so she can spend the night without freezing or soaking to the bone”, finished the colonel, looking up at the CDC people approaching the giant female’s head. “there must be something on this island”

“Mrs. Casafus” said Dr. Poole, trying to sound professional and unruffled, when they were about ten meters in front of the prone, giant face of Zava, who was looking at them with large, expectant brown eyes. The composed, direct scrutiny of the giant woman as they approached her face made Dr. Poole very uncomfortable, and she hoped nobody noticed her legs trembling. The two CDC people were clearly quite uneasy as well.  “Please open your mouth”.

***

“Er, could you say that a little louder, please?”, whispered Zava, as the chief medical woman piped something she could not make up. Even though Zava had been careful not to startle the three tiny persons with her voice, they could not help flinching as she spoke.

“Sorry…”, chirped the woman, louder this time. “Please open your mouth wide” Zava complied. “Stick your tongue out”. Zava closed her eyes as the little people came so close that she could not focus on them without crossing her eyes. She felt quite silly with her head on the ground, eyes closed, mouth agape and tongue sticking out. Embarrassingly, she could feel the saliva building up inside her mouth and threatening to spill out.

She barely suppressed shying away when she felt the butterfly-light touch of the tiny, gloved hands, and other parts of their bodies as they supported themselves on her lip and cheeks while they worked, tiny, unseen tools scraping at the inside of her lips, gums and tongue. There was something rather morbid about the situation, totally unlike feeling Mark’s ministrations on her.

Mark loved exploring Zava’s body, and he had said in more than one occasion that she was like the world’s best and sexiest theme park and that he had it all for himself. Zava also loved being explored and the feeling of his tiny feet walking over her naked skin; his tiny hands caressing every inch of her.

He often woke her up (she was a late sleeper) for college with feathery kisses on her closed eyelids as she lay in bed. Once, she had said, jokingly, that she wanted to see if he fit into her mouth whole, as she lay in the pillow, receiving his kisses and hands on her lips. She opened her mouth wide, still joking, and was shocked when he practically dived inside, laughing at her evident shock at his boldness.  He could indeed fit whole into her mouth, but not comfortably so, he was just a little too big, but she closed her mouth and took the time to jostle him around inside her mouth, probing at his face with her tongue, his reciprocating hungrily. And of course, she slid the tip between his legs to find and lift his resting member and pin it against his abdomen, keeping her tongue still to feel his manhood grow and palpitate into hardness. Of course, she soon ‘spat’ him out carefully on her hand and then got out of bed with his tiny, saliva covered boyfriend on her hand. She kept him sprawled, spread eagle into her palm, her other hand’s index finger pad keeping him pinned to her palm, pressing softly at his crotch, delighting on his little hardness, as she got into the bathroom to take a shower together… and finish him off.

She continued to keep the position she was in, becoming more uncomfortable by the second, and suddenly flushed when the unwelcome thought of the tiny medical staff requesting to take samples of other, more southward areas, to which she would have no option but to comply. And now that her thoughts wandered into that direction, she was aware of a familiar pressure on her bladder. Here comes number one, she thought, using Mark’s euphemism for urinating. And number two will come in time, too, she reflected, grimly, as she knew she rarely was more than two days without having a bowel movement. Zava dreaded having to relieve herself with absolutely no expectation of privacy whatsoever, and that was only a matter of time… she could not hold it forever.

Mark and Zava had come rather early to terms that toilet privacy was going to be a luxury they were rarely going to have, when together. Obviously, Mark could not reach the toilet bowl, and in fact when he proposed building some kind of ladder, she refused, as she did NOT want to take the chance of him slipping and falling into the water… instead, he had a lidded chamber pot Zava had cleverly soldered in her college workshop that same week they re-met. Zava of course had to empty it into the toilet bowl herself at least once a day.

When they were outside together, as Zava was not comfortable with leaving Mark in the ground, when he had to ‘take a leak’, and if they were indoors, she simply tried to find a large potted plant and put him there to do his thing, while she stood watch, trying to look unsuspicious. Now, when SHE was the one that had to go, to Zava’s initial chagrin, there was no choice for Mark but to enter the bathroom and the stall with her. Women’s bathrooms were seldom unoccupied, so there was no chance of leaving him out anywhere.

The first time she had to pee in Uni’s bathroom with Mark along was particularly awkward as she encountered a particularly chatty friend on the way and she, as girls often did, tagged along to the bathroom. Zava had put Mark hurriedly in her purse and asked her (female) friend to hold her purse while she used the stall.

To Zava’s unending mortification, she soon heard her friend talking to her from the next stall, where she obviously had entered to relieve herself, too, carrying her own and Zava’s purse, and Mark inside.  Zava was painfully aware of the too loud sound he liquid gushing out of her did in the toilet, a similar trickling sound reaching Zava from her friend in the neighboring stall, all which was Mark an unwilling witness of. Afterwards, when she could shed her friend, Zava opened, face red as a beetle, the purse, only to find Mark holding his sides, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

After that, they had gradually become more relaxed about the inevitable issue of relieving themselves in company and sometimes, with no other choice, she had had to hold Mark in her fingers as he had to pee out of a window, or she had to hold Mark in her hands or having him on her shoulder, clinging to her hair, as she pissed outdoors on long hikes or when entering narrow toilet stalls, as clearly putting him on the ground at such times was much grosser. Once, on a long hike, he even had helped her retrieve a tampon which string had come off when she tried to pull it out of her and that Zava, much embarrassed, was unable to extricate it on her own after much contortions and scraping herself raw with her fingernails in the attempt. Mark’s pragmatic attitude to such issues was much welcome by Zava, as she was initially upset at the fact that he could find her gross, which he assured her was not the case, in multiple occasions, such as the tampon incident, which he dealt with matter-of-factly.

After a subjectively too long time, saliva starting to trickle out of her lips into the ground, the medical staff chief woman finally declared they were done with the mouth-scraping and said they were going to take some hairs from the top of her head, which they did after much awkward pulling, to Zava’s slight amusement. The doctor also tested her pupil reflexes with a lantern, and used a curious listening device to examine Zava’s heart and lungs. Zava could feel the hazmat-covered woman pressing against the skin on her chest with her instruments. Finally they declared they were done, and retired.

As they were at a safe distance, Zava felt her wrists separate. Shooting the colonel a tight-lipped smile and a grateful look, she rolled on her back, putting her arms under her head and extended her legs, crossing them at the ankles, trying to get the most of the sunlight that was now more available… although strangely it prickled her skin more than it should… it seems sunburn was something else she was going to add to the growing list of unpleasantness. It was just yesterday that Mark and I were together, but it might as well be a hundred years ago. She started to reminisce of how long they had got away with having Mark around, undiscovered. There were a few close calls, of course.  

Like that time, just two days after they declared their love for each other, she was riding in the bus for college, with him, for the first time out, together.

Back then, they had no system to carrying him around yet, but she definitely did not want to be separated from him even for a few hours. There was nothing to be done alone in the house, as they had not yet bought any materials nor tools for his tinkering, so he asked to spend the day with her, to Zava’s delight. She was wearing a long skirt, that she rarely used as it was too hot in the dry season, and a long-hemmed loose blouse with no pockets, tucked into the skirt and held by a belt. Mark was riding along inside her blouse, sitting on the belt, and lying against her tummy.

She remembered clearly how nice his naked back felt against her skin.

There were many people on the bus, so they had to be silent, or at least Zava had to, Mark could whisper and he could hear him through her earpiece. Suddenly, a male acquaintance had gotten into the bus and recognizing Zava, he greeted her and sat beside her, making small talk.  Zava could feel Mark cringing against her at he heard the voice of the other giant. Zava’s hands flew unbidden to cover Mark, protectively, a brusque movement not unnoticed by the man beside her.

Zava, nervous, tried, partially successfully, to distract her college mate with small talk and forced smiles while she tried, surreptitiously, to move Mark around to a less conspicuous place. Misinterpreting Zava’s frantic fingers pressing him from above, he unexpectedly wriggled under her belt and, sliding over her crotch, landed on the bus’s seat, between her legs. Zava, instinctively, had clamped her thighs together hard when she felt Mark slipping, then, horrified as she heard the ‘oof’ on her earpiece as her strong thighs squeezed the air out of him, spread her legs slightly, flushing furiously. Of course, the leg movement and the change in Zava’s countenance was also noticed by the schoolmate, who asked Zava if she was feeling fine. Mark kissed the inside of her thigh and assured her he was fine, as he ran her fingers on her skin.

Shivering at Mark’s burning touch, Zava had assured his friend that she was fine, just a little nervous about exams. The classmate, feeling Zava was uncomfortable, did not try to engage in further talk and soon Zava saw their bus stop was closing in ahead, and said so to her friend. As her schoolmate was going to get off the bus on the same spot, now Zava was thinking how to grab Mark without being spotted.

Mark had heard, of course, and she could feel him moving around, picturing in her head Mark’s head swiveling around trying to grab something to hold on to when she got off the seat, but finding only smooth thigh all around him, thick skirt fabric under his feet and her undies behind him, of course. As they got to the bus stop, Mark had, startlingly, tried, unsuccessfully, to wriggle himself into the elastic of her panties, and as her schoolmate stood up, she spread her legs rapidly and pushed dissimulate at Mark in her crotch with her fingers, urgently.

Now with more literal legroom, he managed to squirm into a leg hole of her underwear, grabbing desperately at her pubic hair to pull himself in, which he did, eliciting a shudder of pleasure as Mark’s hard, firm body slid around her pubes to find a comfortable position in her crotch, the heat of his breath so close to tickling her now budding clit.

She had stood up, feeling Mark being secure in place and tried to walk normally after her college friend, suppressing a whimper of passion. She remembered her legs were shaking with desire… her cunt clamping, trying to suck Mark in as she walked, increasingly conscious of her moist nether lips sliding against each other, and against Mark, with each trembling stride, knees shaking as she felt him slip inexorably more and more under her.

When she, breathless, had finally been alone in a bathroom stall, she got him out, soaking wet, his chest and legs red from scraping caused by her wiry pubes… but with as a raging hardon as she ever saw on him. They spent a long time on that stall, taking care of that… and of the fire between her legs, begging to be quelled as well… as Mark lovingly did.

Will I never feel his touch on me again?

“OK Betty. I’m going for it. You don’t have to do this… media exposure for you will probably not be beneficial, to say the least, not to mention butting heads with the military and who knows how many other government agencies”, said Mark.

Mark and Betty had left the car behind and were now at the margins of the ever-growing throng of people that came to see the giantess. Judging from the cacophony of accents around them, there were people from all over the States, Canucks, Mexicans and even people that had come all the way from Europe and Asia to see the spectacle of the century; many were camping in tents, as most hotels were packed to the brim.

Betty had purchased two of the last tents and sleeping bags available in a local mall; getting a hotel room was now impossible. If people kept flocking to the island, he was sure the government was going to restrict access soon. Probably the only reason it hadn’t yet was that many of the island residents were wealthy and influential and would balk at any restriction imposed on them.

“I can’t say I want to be in the limelight… but you’re probably right. I’ll try to stay off-camera as much as we can. What can’t be avoided, though, is our little appointment with the government” said Betty. “but I want to say hello to Zava…”

“Probably best you’d wait until she’s no longer a prisoner”, said Mark.

As Mark and Betty had been making necessary purchases downtown, Lucy, her friend at PanAm had messaged her. Homeland Security wanted to talk to Betty and were requesting the company to contact her. Betty had told Lucy to contact the agency back saying that she was in Martha’s Vineyard already and would be arriving at the Gayhead Lighthouse camp directly herself later today.

Surely the appearance of the giantess and her mention of the Spindrift fate, differing quite a bit from the original tale the giantland survivors had told, was going to be required to be explained, thought Betty. This, Mark agreed, was best done together, unlike the media part.

Before the military jammed GPS signals around the island, the Boston Globe was the only news agency that had managed to use a camera drone to get close-up images of Zava. Mark judged that if they were competent enough to have a on-the-ground team so soon, they were the best to be approached. On the way to the lighthouse, Mark had been checking their LiveFeed YouTube channel. The on-site reporter was a tall redhead, a certain Rebecca O’Leary, which Betty said was quite famous for her aggressive, hands-on approach. Among the mob of people, they could see, from afar, the Boston Globe dark green news van ahead, with a telescopic microwave broadcast antenna, fully extended, and a camera crew with a portable ladder and platform, filming; the fiery red hair of the reporter could even be seen. Mark and Betty headed there.

They slowly made their way there through the mob of people, and once they were close, Mark and Betty could see the reporter and the camera crew talking, holding coffee mugs, taking glances at a portable nearby monitor. The camera on the ladder seemed to be automated, already pointing at the site, with a long telephoto lens fitted. The crowd around them did not pay much attention to them, as the van clearly had been around since the beginning, having already a privileged location for broadcasting and getting footage of the event; the camera was also high enough that the usual fools trying to photobomb newscasts had no chance of disrupting anything here.

“Miss O’Leary?” Said Mark, loud enough to catch the woman’s attention but not loud enough to cause a stir in the people walking around nearby. The reporter’s head snapped around, mild annoyance on her face. The rest of the camera crew, men and women alike, rose from their seats, clearly prepared to deal with an overzealous fan or an even more unwelcome heckler.

“Yes?” She said warily, looking curiously at Mark. He had purchased a pair of good shoes, fitting jeans, a blazer and formal shirt with Betty’s money, along with other things he would need for his plan. He knew the military and the news (and the public) would react better if the package was appealingly presented. He knew he was attractive enough to catch her attention.

“May we speak? I can give you some information you will find... interesting about current events, but with you and your crew, in private”. Said Mark, in a lower voice. “Google Spindrift Mark Wilson” he added, seeing her reluctance.  The tall redhead whipped out her phone, though, and after a few taps, her eyes widened, looking slack-jawed from her smartphone’s screen to Mark’s smiling face. The rest of the crew, looking over her shoulder at the phone screen, shared her amazement. Betty remained cautiously at a distance, watching the news crew reactions, with amusement. Finally, the reporter, looking around nervously, gestured at Mark to go behind the newsvan with her to talk in private.

“Miss O’Leary…” began Mark, as soon as they were mostly out of view of curious onlookers.

“Call me Becca” Said the newscaster, smiling and looking intently at Mark. “I’m all ears…”. A cameraman was ready beside them.

Mark smiled back, and gave her a slip of paper with a shortened youtu.be URL written on it. Then he started talking…

***

A while later, a beaming Mark reunited with Betty.

“How did it go” inquired her.

“So far so good”. He answered. “But I knew that was going to be easy. I offered her an exclusive interview afterwards with Zava and I if Miss O’Leary agreed to shoot a small interview right there, and showcase the videos from the YouTube channel I set up on the way here. She agreed. The interview will be broadcast soon on their site”. Mark had also given the woman more instructions that he expected would pay off, if he could go on with his plan, as soon as he could be reunited with Zava.

“Can’t say our next stop will be as easy-peasy as that was” said Betty, worried. “There’s a chance we’ll not be allowed to leave the encampment after we enter it…ever”.

“Yep. But if we do not go in willingly, make no mistake, Betty, they will find you, and then they’ll be pissed” Said Mark, now cheerless, as they walked towards the blockade. , making their way through the horde of people.

Ever since waking up on the hospital, without Zava, he felt like he was in a dream. Even now, walking among a multitude of earthlings like him, with Betty beside him, everything around still had a taint of unreality. Things like furniture, cars, trees and buildings now seemed squat and low, the people too little and frail, the voices too high-pitched and muted. The absence of Zava’s adoring, overwhelming presence, above all, felt like a glaring, gaping hole through which his sanity threatened to fall through. As he had pondered, tied to the bed, if he had lost her forever, if he would never again feel her kisses, her loving fingers surrounding him, grabbing and lifting him to the lofty heights of her kissing mouth and her dark, bottomless eyes, he thought he was like to go mad with loss…

Or had he been mad, as the people of the hospital seemed to think he could be, therefore having him tied, and was only now waking up into reality? If sanity involved never traveling in her giant lover’s cleavage, being squeezed by gently swaying breasts larger than he was, never again seeing above him (or under his feet) the naked, sprawled body of a goddess offering herself to him… if the talking, laughing, intelligent titaness he was in love with had been only a figment of his imagination, waking up from that was the madness and the nightmare.

Lying in the hospital bed, he had replayed some of his most fond memories of Zava… the first time he saw her naked and dancing for him…

Or that time he had woken up to find himself alone in bed, and when he peered from the edge of the bed, he could see in the middle of the room a ten (Earth’s) foot circle drawn on the tiles with blue chalk. Later that day, Zava had contacted him through the earpiece asking him to wait inside the circle as she was about to get home. He had gotten down the bed, and as he stood inside the circle on the floor, the door opened and Zava walked in, on high heels, long legs striding towards him, her lovely legs in full display, with a yellow, flaring mini-skirt on. Her eyes were flashing with mischief as she approached, looking down at him, until she was above him, straddling the chalk circle. She had squatted over him, laughing, her hand appearing from above to draw aside her red panties…. The rest was history.

Or that day Zava’s caressing fingers all over him had woken him up to find himself in Zava’s pillow, her face looming over him, a magnifying glass in her hand, as she lovingly scrutinized his features and particularly his member. Her fingers descending to grope it as she noticed he was awake, and did not stop fondling, did not stop looking at his beating manhood under the glass and under her relentless fingers until he was lying spent, trembling under her lustful gaze, her grinning mouth descending to lick his tiny gift from where it had squirted on his chest.

And the many times they had been together outside, him hidden on her pocket, on her cleavage, that time on the bus that he had had to hide in her panties. It thrilled him and Zava to no end to be able to talk and simply be together, fondling each other in front of everyone, hiding in plain sight.

Only when Betty had come into the hospital room and mentioned Zava had Mark’s heart started to truly beat again.

Mark and Zava finally got to the picket, walking along the barricades until they spotted (judging from the images of a previous internet search) police captain LeLacheur, beyond the picket fence. Mark approached the nearest riot police officer and said:

“Please tell captain LeLacheur that Zava’s husband is here”.

***

Colonel McAllister was in the command tent, scowling as he looked at a large nearby screen, surrounded by other military personnel. Restrepo had come calling him from the field, where he was supervising the first load of food that had been brought for the giantess’ lunch. Now he was looking at a video interview, shot minutes ago, according to the headline, not only here in the island but a just few hundred feet away from the barricade. A man claiming to be Mark Wilson was being featured there, talking with local newscaster Rebecca O’Leary from the Boston Globe. He said he was one of the Spindrift original passengers and Zava’s husband; a link was provided in the headline for a purported video channel from Wilson. Restrepo, holding up her tablet so the colonel could see the search results, said that the man seemed to be the actual Mark Wilson, only longer-haired than depicted in available online pictures.

“What about the other people from the Spindrift?” asked McAllister, as he watched the rest of the video.

“So far, we have only been able to locate Betty Hamilton, the former Spindrift stewardess”. Responded Restrepo.  “Barry Lockridge is a minor, so off-limits. Captain Steve Burton and Valerie Scott seem to be abroad. Miss Hamilton is now on the island, we’re told, headed this way”.

McAllister nodded, absently, as he stared at the screen. The video interview had already gone viral. According to the displayed upload date it had been only online for a little more than 20 minutes, but it had over 15 million views already, and counting. Surely it was going to break the current viewership record pretty soon. This was going to make things more complicated now. Surely the President and/or the Pentagon higher-ups were going to be calling him soon, again.

“What about this video channel from this guy Wilson? Don’t tell me it has images from the alien world”, finally said McAllister, as the interview winded down. Restrepo tapped on her tablet; the channel was mirrored from it onto the big screen and it had only a single video. It had been uploaded little more than an hour ago. It had even more views than the interview he just saw. It played.

“My name is Mark Wilson” said the long-haired, blond man on the screen. The video had been shot as a selfie from a smartphone. “I am one of the original passengers of the suborbital ship Spindrift, which was lost for a few years and then returned. What you have been told about the fate of the ship, its crew and passengers and where it was when it disappeared for four years was not entirely accurate… the story the survivors told when they returned had only part of the truth, as the real story was too wild to be believed”.

“Before we continue, I will add that I am Zava Casafus’ husband” The man continued, on the video “She is the giant woman being now held under military custody in Martha’s Vineyard. She is one of the beings from the planet of giant humanoids where the Spindrift was marooned all these years”. The video continued, but then Dr. Poole entered the tent and said:

“Colonel McAllister. Two of the members of the Spindrift are now being held by the police. They approached the barricade of their own volition and requested to speak with you” Restrepo paused the video. “Their identities check out; according to one of them, a man, Mark Wilson, he was found unconscious not too far from the lighthouse last afternoon; we called the local hospital, who confirmed the story”. Finished Dr. Poole.

“Please tell LeLacheur to bring them here”, said McAllister, exchanging a look with Restrepo.

Instants later, a pretty blonde, long-haired woman and a blond, tall man, the same from the video, were led into the tent by Dr. Poole, captain LeLacheur and three soldiers. One of these gave McAllister a tablet, two cell phones, car keys and a woman’s purse, clearly the possessions they had when the two blondes entered the barricade and were frisked to check for concealed weapons. McAllister took the things and looked at Dr. Poole, inquiringly.

“They are ordinary electronics and rental car keys, we checked them thoroughly with our threat scanners in the barricade” said Dr. Poole. “Nothing alien or otherwise dangerous there”. McAllister put the things down on the table and turned to the two newcomers. The blond man was looking at his face on the paused video on the big screen.

“Mr. Wilson and Miss Hamilton, I presume?”  started McAllister.

“Correct” said Betty.

“Ditto” Said Mark, turning his face from the screen to look at McAllister.

“I think explanations are in order” said the Colonel. “And no bullshit, please. I understand your earlier reluctance to talk about what really happened to the Spindrift, but there’s been enough lies already” ended the Colonel, looking meaningfully at Betty, who blushed but held his gaze steadily.  He continued, as the looming Dr. Poole, captain LeLacheur and other military personnel present mirrored McAllister displeasure “I do not appreciate your going to the media before contacting us. You should have come to us directly”.

“Sorry to disappoint you, colonel” said Mark, putting a hand on Betty’s shoulder, obviously transmitting to the woman the ‘let me handle this’ signal. “But I felt I had to have my story out there before coming here; I will tell you no lies, but only the unabridged truth, as I did not have time to tell in the videos you saw. If you watched the Boston Globe interview, you saw that it was always my intention to come forward anyway. But my first duty is with my wife and I needed to take measures to ensure her rights are respected”.

“We have treated her as well as we are able to, under the circumstances” Said McAllister. “and your first duty should be with your homeland, with your homeworld”

“She is still being held prisoner” riposted Mark. “I assure you, she is no threat. She is just an ordinary woman”. Dr Poole snorted. Mark smiled at her, wolfishly.

“Many of the questions I had were answered in the Boston Globe video, but let’s hear it from you again: I take it then, that Mrs. Casafus comes from a world of giant humanoids” Said McAllister to Mark, who assented; the colonel continued: “So there is a whole planet full of these giants and giantesses, colossal trees, animals and weapons to match?”

“That planet, giantland as we Spindrift people call it, is indeed inhabited by beings roughly twelve times as big as we are” clarified Mark. “But technologically they are over half a century behind us, and more in certain fields. They have had no world wars, and so they have not developed, and are nowhere close to developing, nuclear weapons, as in that world fissionable elements are much, much scarcer than on Earth, and are only seen as curiosities without much scientific interest.  They have guns, electricity, radio, aircraft, but no jets, space rockets, ICBMs nor helicopters, and no computers as we understand them”.

“If they are so far behind” said McAllister. “how come you and her managed to travel back to Earth without a ship? Or indeed is there a giant ship around?” In his pocket, his cell phone started to vibrate. He ignored it.

“I have no idea how we were transported here or why were we separated. Last thing I remember, I was hiking with Zava and we were inside a cave taking shelter from a thunderstorm when I blacked out and ended here. There is definitely NO ship, as none existed in that planet capable of orbital flight, much less interstellar travel”.  Said Mark. “Obviously, there is no way I could have built, there on that planet, one on my own capable of carrying both Zava and me here, as a ship capable of lifting a 150-plus ton being into orbit is beyond even current’s Earth’s far more advanced technological or industrial capacity, as you all doubtless know. The best I can surmise is that we were somehow transported through an earthbound dimensional rift similar to the suborbital one the Spindrift encountered once and the same that she went through to get back to Earth when we finally managed to fix her and put her back into suborbit”.

“If such a rift exists, how come no animal or giant person has ever made the same trip you made, either way?” Said McAllister.

“I have no answer to that. As I said, it is only a hypothesis”.

“According to Martha’s Vineyard’s hospital” interjected Dr. Poole, looking at her tablet’s notes “you were found unconscious, and naked, upper torso smeared in traces of a strange substance. Care to explain what that was?”.

“Er…” said Mark, blushing furiously. “Probably my wife’s saliva”. Betty chortled, the rest of the surrounding people’s reactions ranged from amused to horrified “She can be very passionate”, he explained, palms up, apologetically.

“Speaking of wives” continued McAllister, eager to change the subject  “how did you marry her? Were you so accepted by the giant’s society as for that?”

“No. Zava is my common-law wife, as we have been living together for over a year. As I said in the video, we were treated as hostile aliens by the non-democratic government of Zava’s country (or state). We (the Spindrift people) were fugitives. Zava was one of the few giants that helped us. She in fact would have been in a world of trouble if the spook agencies there had found out she had harbored us and let us go unreported”. Explained Mark.

“I see…” Said Colonel McAllister. “I hope you realize, Mr. Wilson, that we have no way to corroborate your story”.

“We have pictures”, chimed in Betty, holding up a memory drive. Restrepo took it. ”taken by the crew of the Spindrift with our digicams while we were there. We also brought back some artifacts from that world, most of which are in the possession of Captain Burton. If you contact Valerie, she even brought back a giant wisdom tooth we once took out of a giant’s mouth. And you have Zava. Isn’t that proof enough? Or how do you imagine we made up a 25 meter tall woman all by ourselves?”

“If I’m going to be frank”, said McAllister “I have no idea what really is going on. The most worrying part of this whole case is the fact that either you Spindrift people are lying about how Mrs. Casafus and you” he looked at Mark ”got here from ‘giantland’ or you genuinely have no idea, the latter being probably worse. Both entail the danger of an invasion, and if we’re going to be overrun by giant aliens, I’d like to know how it could happen and how we could avoid it”.

“We’ll be happy to tell you everything you need to know, colonel”, said Mark. “For now, I can tell you that I think there is no risk of imminent invasion, as the only known ‘portal’, let’s call it that, is now identified, at least from our side, high on the ionosphere. We now know it can go both ways, as the Spindrift managed to slip back to Earth through it in the opposite direction it fell into giantland, once it could fly again.  The giants are not yet advanced enough to detect such phenomena and they still have no orbital airships. If anything is going to get here from giantland, or the other way around, it will be through that portal”.

“So you say, but you were never in high orbit with your wife”

“All I can guess is that it had something to do with myself being from Earth, the place we were in, and the electrical storm, and an unlikely to be repeated chain of improbable events and energies. It involved no technology, as we were in a wilderness trail. If it could happen more, it would have happened already, and as far as I know, Zava is the first giantess ever to appear on Earth” admonished Mark.

“In any case” said McAllister, “we do not want to cause a panic. You will abstain from talking to the media about ‘portals’ and invasions, which you thankfully have not have mention of, yet. I also have to ask you both, Miss Hamilton and Mr. Wilson, what really happened to the two people who did not make it out of giantland”.

“Died by accident” said Betty.  “Dan was stepped on by a crowd of running giant schoolchildren, who never even saw him. Not enough remained of him to be buried, afterwards. Fitzhugh was taken by a giant woman. We later found his remains. Our guess is that he was squeezed too hard when captured and later died from internal hemorrhaging, his body being discarded as he died”.

“It’s time for us to also ask some questions, colonel” declared Mark. “First, what are you going to do to us.  Are we under arrest?”.

“Well, you’re American citizens, and I cannot arrest you without charges. However” said McAllister, looking at Betty “lying to Homeland Security is a federal crime. And you did lie about the Spindrift and its crew’s ill-fated journey to giantland and back when you returned”.

“Not me”. Said Mark.

“Whether we decide to press charges against Miss Hamilton, Mr. Burton and Miss Scott will depend largely on how you cooperate with us from now on”. Continued Dr. Poole. “You will not give any statements to the media that we do not endorse beforehand. I want you to understand that this is a matter of national security… homeworld security even, and any transgressions on your part will be dealt with accordingly, that is, severely. And rest assured, there will be more questions, as this case is examined by other experts”.

“As for Mr. Wilson” added McAllister “and to answer the questions you are surely going to ask me next, we have nothing against you, but whether or not you will be permitted to see your… spouse from now on will largely depend on your cooperation as well”.

“I have no intention of becoming an annoyance or getting in your way, colonel. I’ll not babble about aliens to the media. I just want to go on with my life, my wife beside me” said Mark, dead serious. “I just came back to Earth, back from the dead from all intents and purposes, as I realized when I was back in the hospital. Tomorrow, I will start the paperwork to reinstate my identity. As my first act as a living American citizen, I intend to provide and care for Zava myself from now on, regarding her needs for food, shelter and other… biological needs and their result thereof, with no burden to the American taxpayer whatsoever”.

“Ms. Casafus is not an American, Mr. Wilson” said Dr. Poole. “not even from the same planet we’re on, evidently, and as she herself has declared in front of the media and hundreds of eyewitnesses. Who, when seeing her, can doubt she is not from this Earth? She also is most certainly not human, as tests we have run have made plain”.

“She is still a woman. My wife. A sentient, thinking being, who even speaks English. She is not an animal, and she has committed no crime. She cannot be deported either.”

“Proving she is your common-law wife will require at least two witnesses, according to both California, your home state, and Massachusetts’s law”. Said Dr. Poole.

“They can be found”. Said Betty, defiantly. “I am one of them”.

“As I said, Dr. Poole, colonel McAllister, everyone” cut in Mark, looking around the tent at everyone present “I have no intention of bothering you. But make no mistake, I will do everything in my power to ensure Zava’s physical and psychological well-being and her ultimate freedom. I will exhaust all legal channels, go to the media” At Dr. Poole and McAllister resulting frown, he looked at them and said: “without babbling about invasions or anything that can cause a panic, but I WILL use the media if it will help me make Zava a free woman and be recognized as my lawful wife and as an American. I will go to the president, to Congress, to the UN, whatever, whichever, whenever, however I have to, I will do it; whoever I have to talk into it, I will. I am a man of not inconsiderable resources and influence, as you will see. I will not stop while there is life in me”.

There was a long silence. McAllister was looking at Mark steadily… but not unkindly, now.

“Colonel” said Mark, now pleadingly “Has Zava offered any resistance or threatened anyone”

“No”.

“Did she have any alien weapons or tech on her?”

“No”.

“Have I been anything less than respectful, forthcoming and reasonable? Have I committed ANY felony or crime or legal misdemeanor whatsoever?”

“Not that I can see”. Said McAllister looking at Dr. Poole, who shrugged and shook her head.

“Does Zava strike you as the military, warrior or LEO type?”

“Not in the least”. Replied McAllister. A buzzing sound could be heard.

“Do you honestly, and I ask you this as a husband and from one man to the other, think Zava is any immediate military threat or any kind of trojan horse, an invasion spearhead from otherworldly beings?”

“You’re getting awfully dramatic now” said McAllister, with a lopsided grin “but no, no and no. Personally, she just seems bewildered, although remarkably level-headed, given the circumstances. Honestly and personally, to me, she is just a young woman, a foreigner, accent and all. But I do not have the authority to decide Zava’s fate. That is for my superiors to determine”. The buzzing sound continued, annoyingly.

“There is also the matter of biological hazards for the population at large” chimed in Dr. Poole. “there will have to be some kind of quarantine to be followed”.

“Yet here she is, surrounded by hundreds of people” said Mark. Dr. Poole did not have anything to say to this, avoiding Mark’s gaze. He continued:

“I have made arrangements in the local airport, by renting a hangar, to house Zava in during your quarantine; public access can be better restricted there, proper hygiene better maintained, and we are in an island. She cannot be kept here to piss and crap in front of everyone, lie and roll around in the dirt and die of exposure. Please realize Zava comes from a tropical climate, in a world with higher atmospheric pressure and composition (especially more oxygen), less UV radiation, significantly lower gravity and completely different foodplants and diet. Hell, the weather forecast even says it is going to rain tonight, with temperatures dropping to the forties. She has never experienced anything lower than 50°F, and she puts on her coat (which she does not have now, and she is almost naked!) for anything below 70°, for crying out loud!”.

Mark saw Dr. Poole and McAllister exchange concerned looks. Clearly, they were troubled about Zava getting ill on their watch and had given the matter previous consideration even before Mark showed up. He resumed his plea:

“Let me take care of this. I can help you. I will help you. Just allow me to” his voice broke. “please do not let her get sick and die. I will beg you on my knees if I have to” he started to kneel, but McAllister, shaken, grabbed him by the arm, holding him up.

“That will not be necessary” said McAllister, placated, head lowered in a subdued voice. Mark looked around. Everyone, even Betty, was looking at him with round eyes, in shock. “I will do what I can to help you, and Zava, Mr. Wilson”. Finished colonel McAllister. He opened his mouth to speak further, but then a buzzing could be heard again, and McAllister produced a whirring phone from his pocket. Raising his eyebrows as he looked at the screen, he answered the phone, holding it to his head. He raised a hand, index finger extended upwards in an apologetic gesture to the other tent occupants as he turned away from everyone, heading for the tent’s door.

“Sir. McAllister here” he started, now almost outside the tent “Yes, I have seen it, too. Yes sir. Yes. Yes sir. As a matter of fact, he’s right here with me” he stopped, and turned around, giving a meaningful look at Mark. “Yes, Mr. President. I’ll put you on speaker”.

It was now well past noon, Zava estimated; she did not know how long days were on this planet compared to hers; she had never thought to ask Mark about such things. Boredom, loneliness and worry made time seem to have slowed to a crawl.

She also did not know, but was now discovering, that one could be cold and get sunburnt at the same time. A chill wind kept blowing from the sea, making her shiver. The sun was curiously low in the horizon; it had stopped climbing a while ago and was now declining; Zava estimated it was about 30 degrees at its highest, earlier, instead of reaching an overhead position as in her hometown. She wondered what season this was, as Mark had told her in his land they had four, but her town had only the dry and wet ones. She did not know if the Earth’s sun was more potent, or the atmosphere thinner, as she was not getting much warmer, but somehow the light stung a lot in her exposed skin, being specially annoying on her face.

For a while, as she lay on her back, she had covered her eyes, forehead and nose from the stinging sunlight with her hands, squirming uncomfortably. Then some of the soldiers nearby cried out to her.

“Humm…. Lady?”

When she turned to the side, to her surprise, she saw two soldiers had brought her a white tarp, very similar to one of their tents, probably a spare from their own. She smiled at them and very slowly, so they were not startled, reached out for it and carefully took it out of their hands, thanking them. At her smile and words, they smiled back nervously at her, recoiling a little from her big hand. She put the tarp, which reeked lightly of mildew, on her face. It barely covered it, but at least she could protect her eyes, nose and lips. Her chin was still exposed, though, as was her abdomen, legs and arms.

It looked like her attempts at conversation with the troops guarding her had not been completely unsuccessful, judging from this unexpected kindness. One soldier had told her that they had not been expressly been ordered not to talk to her, but his and his companions’ nervous glances at the command tent said that they knew they could get in trouble for it, so she desisted, mostly.

By the way, she thought… it’s been a while since I last saw the colonel and the other little people in charge. Last time she saw them was when they had brought her lunch. It consisted of several crates of a yellowish-red fruit, roughly the size of a little people’s fist, which they called ‘apples’, according to the soldiers who brought her the crates.

It was not until she saw the food that she realized she was famished. She sat up, legs crossed and faced the people who brought her the food.

 She tried to eat the little fruits daintily, but she soon got frustrated with their small size, which made it difficult to pinch them between her fingers without squishing them into mush, so she gave up the pretense of being a lady and instead taking the crate with one hand she upturned it into the other and then emptied her hand at her upturned mouth, to munch at them all. She noticed, sheepishly, that everyone around had stopped what they were doing to stare at her, slack jawed, as she did short work of all the crates with the apples. Then they brought her about two dozen small hog-like animals roasted on spits, which she also consumed very quickly. After this, they brought several cauldrons of broth.

She discovered the broth had some kind of very fine yellowish threads inside, which a soldier, laughing at her question, had called ‘pasta’. Finally, they gave her several boxes filled with many small loafs of a sweet bread. After these were gone, still hungry, she looked around hopefully for more, but it seemed that was all, except for a few plastic kegs of a bitter brew, ‘kophee’, which she tried but did not like at all. She was too self-conscious to ask for more, lest they thought her an insatiable monster, but she could not help feeling a little grumpy with yet another source of uncomfortableness, compounded by the fact that she did not have her toothbrush, and she suspected that it, and a warm bath, were going to be long in coming, judging by appearances.

She then had decided to turn her back to the people and face the sea, legs crossed, elbows propped on her thighs, her chin supported on her hands. She was feeling more than a little sullen after the paltry meal and the wholly unpleasant situation, but did not want to show it. She looked down at her now very grimy clothes with distaste. Certainly I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone, right now. She remained like that for a while, until she decided to lay back again, to try to warm herself with the sun. A while passed, and it was then that the soldiers brought her the tarp. She just laid there, praying for some sleep, when…

“Zava?”

She sat upright and got on her knees so quickly that the soldiers around her scampered away, alarmed. The tarp on her face was sent flying and her carbon bracelets got suddenly much heavier, pining her hands to the ground. Did I just imagine that? She turned around, her heart lurching in her chest, struggling to lift her hand to grasp at her earring, the one with the earpiece. Was it his voice?

Her breath caught as she saw Mark getting out of the command tent,. It IS him!!! , trailed by some soldiers, McAllister, the female doctor and a slim, long-haired blonde she had not seen before. He was quite smartly dressed, and as soon as he caught her eye she heard him say her name again in the earpiece, and then he started to walk faster, and then dashed towards her at full pelt, kicking his shoes off. Obviously, nobody expected that, and some soldiers, alarmed, got hold of their weapons, looking at McAllister, who waved them back, unconcerned.

Mark covered the field between them in a few seconds. Zava was stunned, hands flying to cover her mouth, barely holding herself back from springing forward, very conscious of the armed automatons, and the gravity cuffs. As Mark got near her, she set both hands on the ground in front of her, palms up. Mark hopped on them and she scooped him up, lifting him to her mouth to cover him with kisses as she stood to her feet in a pirouette, laughing, barely feeling the tug of the gravity bracelets. They both were laughing, she could feel his tiny, strong arms trying to hug what he could hold of her face. But as she held him in front of her, to look at his so beloved face, she saw, taken aback, tears running down his face.

“I thought I had lost you, Zav”, he said, voice trembling. Indeed, she could feel his whole body shaking in her fingers. She was shaking, too, and her eyes welled as she saw his tears, for the first time ever.

“I knew you would find me” said Zava, beaming at him… “I knew you would”. Then, acting on an impulse, she turned towards the crowd of onlookers, and holding Mark aloft with both hands, as a trophy, she cried, loudly:

“We’re together again!!!” A cheering roar of approval and claps rippled through the crowd. She then lowered Mark, covering him again with kisses as she waved at the multitude of people, being waved back by hundreds of tiny arms. Mark said, abruptly, in a low whisper, as she rained affection on him:

“Zava, when you look at the crowd, try to face a dark green car with a blue and red flag tied to a pole. They’re part of our ticket out of here” she quickly, discreetly located the flag and the truck with her piercing eyes. It had a long, protruding antenna and what looked like a camera on top of a pole, as well.

“How are we going to get out of this, babe” whispered Zava from between her teeth. “I don’t want to be kept here in this field a second longer… please don’t leave me here alone” she pleaded, squeezing Mark almost too hard to her bosom, before holding him in front of her again with both hands.

“Don’t worry, Zav, not going to leave you now nor ever. We’re on my turf now. Just trust me and be prepared to do as I say when I say it”. Said Mark, confidently. “But first… remember what I said about facing the crowd and please put me in your left hand, palm facing up. I need to stand up for what I’m going to do”.

She held her left hand, palm up, in front of her breasts and set him on it, looking down at him expectantly, as she tried to unobtrusively change her stance to face the green van with the camera. With her right hand she put her hair behind her ears.

First Mark stood up, and she saw him press lightly at his own earpiece. But just as soon he dropped one knee to her palm and held up his hands. She looked down at him, uncomprehending for an instant, but then reached out with the pinkie of her right hand, which Mark took between both of his, squeezing it lovingly.

“Zava, love. I have been meaning to do this almost since we started living together, but was waiting for the appropriate time, which given our situation never seemed to come. I see now that I waited too long and almost missed my chance. I do not want to take that risk again. You’re the most amazing, brave, beautiful and adorable woman in this or any Earth. I feel incredibly lucky to be able to share the days of my life with you, knowing that you love me back a twelvefold. I want more, though. I do not want to keep our love a secret any longer. I want it to be known all over the whole wide world, I want everyone to know that Zava Casafus and Mark Wilson are together for ever. Will you be my wife, Zava?”

“Yes!” She immediately shot back hoarsely, without a microsecond’s hesitation, choking with emotion as the moment she thought was impossible had finally come. She forgot she was in an alien planet, surrounded by a host of tiny people that barely made it to her ankles. She forgot she was a prisoner in fetters, guarded by armed automatons, that she was barefoot, barely clad, hungry, grungy and cold. Then, an instant later, with a firmer voice, which reverberated over the crowd, she cried: “Yes, I will”. Her eyes were deep pools of resolve.

They could not see nor hear colonel McAllister displaying again his lopsided grin, as he looked at the scene and muttered:

“Well played, son… well played”

Unexpectedly, Mark pulled from his pocket one of the small square devices many people in the multitude often held in the air whenever she faced the mob of spectators, which he had thought was a camera. Now that she could get a closer look, the object was really rectangular, and in the back, it had a shiny screen, but it was too small for Zava to make anything of it. He turned his back on her, holding the device in front of him, as he looked at Zava over his shoulder, smiling.

“Ok, this is the final touch… humor me, Zav. I guess it would be better if you held it but I know you can’t….” he turned his face to the device. “Hold your hand a little higher, just in front of your face, Oops, steadier, I almost fell off… yes, a little farther from your face, lower… higher, closer, no, farther….yes, right there! Now smile! So beautiful!! Hold it, hold it… OK”. He tapped at the screen in quick, knowing movements for a few moments and then put the contraption away, back in his pocket.

Zava was mystified… “I have no idea what you’re doing, you little nut”. She whispered, with a giggle, but then got serious “Oh, Mark what are we going to do? Are you a prisoner now too? I don’t think they’re going to let me… let us go that easily…”.

“I don’t have much time to explain, babe, and I can see them down there already getting impatient because they can’t hear what we’re saying, so I’ll be quick. I can explain more on the way”.

“On the way to where?” Said Zava, hopeful.

“First for some shelter for you, the second concession I could get, and one of the reasons I was not here sooner was that Betty and I were doing the arrangements for your rescue, buying clothes, etc.”.

Zava blinked. “Betty is here?”

“Yes, she is down there, but listen first, Zav. They gave us permission to go to the local airport. I rented a hangar there for us. You’ll have to walk there. It’s about a mile of yours and a half (17 of mine). I think we can get there in about two hours, probably a little more”.

“Great!” Can’t wait to get the hell out of this effing place!. “Let’s go right now! I do not think there is much daylight left”. Having to spend the night here is NOT an option… I think I’ll go on a rampage if I stay here an hour longer, bots or no bots!

“We have a little more than two hours of daylight. There will be some things I and them will have to take care of before we set off. There will be a military motorcade preceding you, so the streets are clear, and you do not step on anyone”

“Gods forbid” said Zava, paling… she could not help imagining, with a shudder of utter horror and disgust, the sickening feeling of feeling a little screaming person’s squishy body splattering under her bare foot... GHAH! “How did you manage all this? The SID would not have let you go that easily if they had captured you” Zava’s appreciation of Mark’s resourcefulness had kept going about up a notch a second since he appeared.

“Tell you on the way…please set me down… they are getting twitchy… twitchy people with guns, Zav”

No way! I’m not letting them take you from me!  Zava hesitated, but at Mark’s beseeching look, she tightened her lips, closed her fingers on him, holding him in her fist as she kneeled, sitting on her haunches and lowering her hand to the ground.

“Don’t go far… I’d go mad if I lost sight of you again” she implored. He squeezed her thumb, reassuringly, as he shot a last smile at her and then hopped to the ground. Zava sighed and then caught sight of Betty, obviously the long-haired blonde in blue slacks, who was approaching with Mark’s shoes on her hand, smiling; McAllister was following close behind with his usual escort. As she got closer, Betty gave Mark his shoes and waved at Zava, crying:

“Hi Zava! Long time no see!”

“Hello Betty! You look so much prettier with your hair long! I did not recognize you” Said Zava, smiling and waving back from above.

“I suppose I look better in an outfit that has not been washed by hand, like, 500 times in three years. I only owned two changes of clothes back when I was in Bitagweh, your town, you know”.

“Well, I only have what you see on me,”, said Zava, laughing, “less than half an outfit and no shoes, and if I had been transported here ten minutes later than I was, I’d not even have this on, so let’s count our blessings”.

Betty covered her mouth as she could not help bursting into laughter.

“That is the Zava I know!”

Betty and Zava kept making small talk, but Zava was determined not to let Mark out of her sight. While she talked, she followed warily his every move.

***

McAllister was looking at the two women when they started chattering happily, so different from each other; one pale, good-looking and slim, but puny by contrast with the other tanned, gargantuan and overpoweringly appealing woman.

When Zava smiled, she changed from already very pretty to movie-star luminous, even in her soiled clothes and disheveled hair. Even the usually composed and stern Dr. Poole and the terse captain LeLacheur could not help but stare at the giantess in bewitched admiration, he saw. It was clear Zava had the crowd behind them and even his soldiers (and by now, surely the media) already in her pocket, with barely any effort. Mark approached him. Seeing a tall, grown man as Mark being picked up off the ground twenty meters into the air in a second, being held with barely two fingers of the giant beauty, as if he weighed nothing, was something McAllister would never forget: it was surreal, incredible. He was pretty sure Zava was strong enough to lift a tank if she had a mind to it.

“Colonel. Forgive me if I seem hasty but I think we better hit the road before twilight catches up with us. Zava’s big eyes can see much better in the dark than us but let’s not take any chances of unfortunate accidents or property damage occurring”.

“We’ll be ready to go in ten, Wilson”. Said McAllister, reluctantly tearing his eyes from Zava. “Dr. Poole, is the mask ready?” The Dr. nodded. “Captain LeLacheur?”

“My people are already reorganizing the barricades and the motorcade. The way is being cleared ahead of us as we speak. I think we better go before people figure out where we’re going and get in the way”. Said the policewoman. “I take it you will ride with us, Mr. Wilson?”

“No ma’am. I’ve got a better ride”.

***

“Zav, we’re about to leave, Please put this on”. Mark was holding a two-meter square of finely meshed cloth with straps tied to it. Zava reached for it. It looked like a kind of surgical mask. She proceeded to put it on over her mouth and nose.

“It is part of the quarantine procedure”. Dr. Poole interjected, loudspeaker in hand. “A cleaning douche will also be installed outside the hangar and everyone going in or out of the building will have to go through it, except, of course, you, Miss Casafus, who would have to remain there for 30 days”.

“I understand” Replied Zava, voice muffled by the thick cloth. Let’s go Let’s goooo…  I swear I don’t want to see another lighthouse in my life… she reached for Mark, who lifted his arms so they were not pinned by her fingers as they closed around his legs and torso, to be then lifted into the air… where she paused.

She almost put him into her cleavage, as she usually did, but… she caught herself, stopping the practiced and customary movement of her left hand, with which she usually held one boob aside to widen the gap between her breasts before setting his boyfriend between her tits. There are children down there in the audience, cameras all over… definitely not appropriate, she sighed.

Early in their relationship, they had tried carrying Mark standing on her shoulders, holding on to her hair, but it had proven too difficult for Mark to hold on as she walked, and the one time they did it, he soon had to beg her to grab him before he fell. After quick consideration, she settled for holding Mark a little below her breasts against her midriff with both hands. He would get hot and sweaty there but at least he could look out from there and… there is NO CHANCE IN HELL I’m going to give him to the police motorcade.

“I’m ready” boomed the now clearly impatient Zava. McAllister and LeLacheur were already on a squat and broad military vehicle, at the head of the cortège, ahead of Zava, on the road. No sign of Betty, though she surely was around, as there were about ten vehicles on the procession. Five ahead, five in the back, with a wide space between them, clearly to have Zava as a sandwich in the middle. They were waiting. Almost disbelieving she was finally leaving this accursed place, Zava stepped timidly out of the field on tiptoes, fearing to encounter opposition, but nobody tried to stop her.

She stepped over the low stone wall surrounding the lighthouse. A few people, probably the keeper and friends and family, were at the top of the lighthouse, looking down at her from slightly above her head. She smiled and waved at them as she passed, they waving back, cheerfully.

In a few more tentative steps, she was on the road. The crowd had split into two, at each side of the narrow street, barely wider than her hips; five cars behind, five cars in front. She winced as she felt the thin pavement warp slightly under her feet. She was going to have to tread very lightly. Hopefully downtown the pavement would be sturdier. She was already becoming aware of the costs Mark would have to incur into to maintain her at the beginning, and did not want to add up to it with road repairs.

“Zav. I know that look in your eyes when you picked me up… what’s making you uncomfortable?” Sounded Mark in her earpiece. He can always tell…

“Oh, Mark… so many things…” she whispered through the mask, I’m sure the little people around me can probably hear every word, though. “My limbs feel so heavy… I feel almost naked in front of all these people… I’m hungry… I’m cold… and I’m about to piss myself; the cold is not helping for this last”. Mark gasped.

“Holy shit! Why didn’t you say something before, love?” he muttered, clearly very concerned.

“I’ve been holding it for a while now, dear, I know it was stupid, but in that field, in front of so many people, even TV cameras… with no way to get this tight shorts off without flashing everyone… or dripping on my undies or feet, you know the mess I splash around if I don’t hold it open with my fingers… just wanted to delay the awkwardness as much as I could, at least until after dark…” not sure now If I’ll make it to the airport, though... Let’sgoLet’sgoLet’sgo “should not have drank so much pasta broth…”

“Um… can you hold it a little longer”.

“I’ll try…. Why don’t you tell me how did you convinced them to let me go?” Let’s try to think of something else beyond my bladder. Finally, the procession started to move. She started to pace forward, gingerly. “or rather start telling me where you landed”.

Mark then told her most of what had happened after he woke up, his stay in the hospital, tied to the bed, Betty’s help, the trips downtown, the video he prepared and uploaded (he had explained the concept of online data to Zava long ago), the reporter, and then he got to the part where he had almost kneeled in the tent. Thanks to the video of the news sites, he was almost up to date to what had occurred to Zava, so far.

“… and then the President (our country’s leader) called McAllister, and he wanted to talk to me… he had already seen both videos, the reporter’s and mine, and I had already put an online petition and a social network page about us, both featured in the reporter’s video and mine (I’ll explain later) all of which went viral (again will explain later), which prompted many human rights organizations, think tanks, the United Nations chief, universities’ and even SETI’s (Search For Extraterrestrial Intelligence) researchers to be already contacting the White House, I mean, the President’s office, and senators, flooding them with requests to allow you the opportunity of a probation period before adopting you as a honorary American citizen, as the first sentient extraterrestrial known to appear on our planet”. Mark paused, and then at a loving squeeze of Zava’s fingers, prompting him to continue:

“Zava. It is important not to understate the significance of having you here on Earth and in America. Before you appeared, the only proof of any life beyond this planet were mere hints… hints! of bacterial remains. And now you’re here, and you are a little hard not to notice, my love, way larger than a microbe! The first extraterrestrial being ever encountered in the history of humankind is a sentient, intelligent, English speaking humanoid, no less! (not to mention giant and sexy as hell)” Zava laughed throatily behind her mask at this as she kept walking. Mark continued “They convinced him a good precedent had to be set, as you were quite probably not hostile, and quite likely not the last alien we’d encounter. The fact that you were my de facto spouse and that I was an American citizen also helped, as the United States obviously would want to be the first country ever to grant asylum to a marooned person from outer space”.

Mark did not mention the fact (obvious to him, if not to Zava) that the fact that she was also de facto practically impossible to hide, abduct or imprison in secret had really, really helped. No way the men in black could haul THIS alien in a black van to a secret CIA prison. Mark was also sure that the fact that she was a woman, and a damn comely one at that, had also helped Zava score points, unfair as it may be to future, less easy-on-the-eye aliens. It was easy to feel sympathy with such a giant bombshell as Zava.

“Well, they’re going to be a little disappointed when I can’t give them any anti-aging elixirs, or blueprints for teleporting pods, rayguns or warp drives” chuckled Zava, using some of the terms Mark had read her from science-fiction books.

“We’re not out of the woods yet, babe. The probation thing is serious. We’ll have to receive the visit of many experts and politicians (some of them also likely religious or immigration bigots) which will have many questions, many of them uncomfortable, that’s for sure, and we cannot possibly please them all. We’ll have to submit both to medical exams, etc., and you will have to study politics and history to pass the citizenry test, eventually. I’m almost certain we’ll be summoned to Congress for hearings”.

“I can do all of that. As long as we are left to our life together”. Said Zava, defiantly. “I will NOT accept you being taken from me”.

“Don’t worry. That was the first concession I got. We’ll do it together”.

They continued for a while in silence, as Zava digested all Mark had said. In the rosy light of sunset, she could see, from her privileged height, with wonder, the little, adorable houses with very well cared for lawns (a rarity in her hometown), little tree orchards extending into the distance in the countryside, many of them loaded with ‘apple’ fruits, cute little cows and sheep in equally cute pastures, little barking dogs, birds flying around her, no bigger than flies.

As they approached downtown, beautiful villas which Mark said were probably of powerful and wealthy politicians like senators and ex-presidents began to appear. But all of them were barely waist-high to Zava. She felt, delighted, like she was walking through toyland. She could see cute little cars, motorcycles and bicycles riding around, and of course, little people everywhere: in the streets behind the police barricades, in windows and balconies, peering out of cars, all of them mouth agape as she sashayed by. She was increasingly aware that she was the ONLY person her size in the whole wide planet, which was both devastating and awesome at the same time.

Seeing them so small and thin, she could not help recalling the many times she had inserted Mark fully or almost fully into her hungry sex (and just as many times he had wriggled his way in and out of her cunt on his own). Once she was almost not being able to get him out of there, which was why they came up with the silk lifeline idea. And every person she was now going to encounter was as small as to fit inside her pussy or her mouth as well, smaller than just one of her breasts. She wondered how would it be to see a tiny couple having sex from up close… Why am I thinking of this?  She shook her head.

Zava was distracted from these unsettling thoughts as they got to an unexpected obstacle. She could now see, not so far ahead, at least to her, the tower of control of the airport, and the runway and hangars. But right in front of her there was a heavy intersection, packed with cars behind barricades at her sides.  The problem was that power lines were also crossing above the intersection.  They were high enough that she could not expect to be able to step over them without getting entangled in them, damaging them and receiving in turn a nasty shock or even dying as a result. She could see there was no way around them, and other streets were narrower and packed with cars and people.

Jumping was out of the question, as she did not want to find out if in this stronger gravity environment, she could leap over them, or if her bones would resist the jump. She would have to crawl under, there was enough room for that.

“Mark, I’ll have to let you off ‘till we clear these wires” she set him down on the floor and he jogged across the intersection, under the wires, waiting for her beyond to be picked up again. She got on all fours and then flat on her stomach against the ground. Then she crawled under the power lines, with plenty of room to spare above her back and ass, but barely keeping her tits from popping out of her top with the effort, scraping her elbows against the curb. The whole maneuver made it also plain that her bladder was getting fuller and more urgent by the second. She was uncomfortable aware that the little people around her were getting an eyeful of her legs and ass as she crept under the wires.

As she made to stand again, she realized she was getting tired. She suspected it would be several weeks until her body fully adjusted to the increased gravity and thinner air. Then she remembered Mark and bent over to get him, remembering too late that her ass in her too short shorts was being displayed to the procession and spectators behind her. Not for the first time in the last day, she was now glad she had not been wearing a skirt for the hot springs hike with Mark.

She started to walk again behind the other cars, cold sweat of exertion running down her back and between her breasts. Holding back urination beyond what was reasonable was also starting to take its merciless toll. Her dainty feet were also getting sore from walking barefoot on tarmac, no matter how thin, for over a mile. The concerned look on Mark’s face as she grabbed him made it clear that he realized how close she was to losing it. Just a little longer… hold it a little longer… it won’t do to piss myself in front of the whole world. She pointed to Mark, ahead of her, more of those flying cameras, ‘drones’, Mark had called them, buzzing around her, but a respectful distance, catching footage of her strut through town.

She started to walk a little faster, the motorcade increasing its speed accordingly. It was clearly a mistake, as when they were a few blocks from the airport she stepped a little too hard with her heel and she cringed as she felt the tarmac give in, cold water oozing from the cracks to wet her foot, as she obviously had smashed a pipe. Shit! No choice but to keep walking, though. No one seemed to notice the mishap. Thank the gods that was not a gas line.

Thankfully, they soon made it to the tree-lined chain-link fence near the runway. LeLacheur, the police captain told her with the loudspeaker that she would have to step over the fence and walk to the hangar across the runway, because she surely would not fit under the clearance gauge at the airport’s entrance. The airport had already stopped all traffic an hour ago to make way for her. Mark would guide her to the hangar. The cavalcade had to go all the way to the airport gate a few hundred meters ahead and make a detour to catch up with her.

Zava, legs trembling, stepped over the fence and, feeling under her feet the firmer tarmac of an airport runway, designed to hold heavy airplanes, walked a little faster. Mark told her to head to hangar 51, which she could see, relieved, ahead, marked with large red numbers. She got there, the doors already ajar. The groundskeeper or something was standing outside, looking up at her in amazement. She set Mark down, and he went to the man, got the keys from him after a brief greeting. She did not wait for their exchange to end. Getting in all fours, she got through the waist-high hangar door; inside, she found she could sit in the ground comfortably, she saw, without scraping her head on the ceiling trusses. Mark entered behind her and struggled to close the giant doors. Zava helped him, and as soon as they were alone and in relative privacy, she took of her mask and then she strained to take off her shorts and black thong, throwing them aside. Soon, now bottomless, hands cupped on her crotch, she muttered:

“Mark…. Please tell me you also prepared something for this… or that you have a truckload of sawdust… or a big mop… at the ready…”

He immediately ran to a corner near the door, bringing what looked like a big cardboard funnel, shiny with what seemed to be wax, lacquer or something.

“Zava… get to the middle of the hangar!” she could see a miniature manhole there. Mark ran with his funnel to the manhole and quickly took the lid off, inserting the two-foot wide funnel’s beak on it. Zava crawled near, and squatted near the manhole, inching closer to the funnel on her heels. Mark held the funnel in place, beak on the manhole, the mouth of the funnel against her pussy lips, held spread by fingers of both hands now. That’s it, buddy… reached my limit…. Ahhhh….

She released her bladder, or rather her bladder gave out, a foot-plus-wide stream shooting out of her urethra into the funnel, which noisily rechanneled everything into the drain, Mark pushing the funnel against it with evident effort against the strong flow bursting out of her.

Mark had explained her once about the 21 second rule of urination, but to her it seemed to take half a century until she finally squeezed out the last drops, these failing to reach the funnel, annoyingly trickling down one of her buttocks and into the floor. Mark, helpfully, brought her what seemed to be a bed sheet, which she used to wipe herself (and the floor), Mark politely turning her back on her for the duration of this embarrassing operation.

Zava let herself fall down on her ass onto the cold floor, relief escaping her with a long sigh; her bladder and piss hole felt a bit sore from holding it for so long. Now, spread eagle, awkwardly holding the wet makeshift napkin in one hand on the air, the other hand on the ground for support, she laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.  Her pussy was now fully displayed to Mark, who had turned to face her already, eyes widening at the enticing womanly panorama in front. But he remembered himself, and scurried away to bring both a trashcan in which Zava deposited the napkin, a keg of powdered soap and a hose. He helped Zava wash her hands with the last two, as she said, while reaching for her shorts and panties as she finished washing:

“You actually had the time to make that funnel?”  

“Well, I knew we were going to need it, but I hoped it would last longer” he said, looking at the now crumpled funnel, which obviously would not stand for another use, although thankfully it held through one session… it would have been awkward if it Zava’s stream had pierced it before… her jet would have knocked him to the ground. I’ll have to go shop for something sturdier”. He shamelessly looking at her slipping her bottom up her long legs while trying not to bump her head on the ceiling. “In fact, I have to go shopping for quite a few things”

That gave her pause…

“Please don’t leave me alone Mark… you promised”, she begged, voice breaking… “At least for tonight, be with me…I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep myself together without you tonight”

“Zava… you cannot sleep on the cold cement floor… you need proper food, a heater, a blanket…”

“I can make without for tonight, just… just don’t leave me… I need you”.

“What if I leave you with Betty for a while, while I’m out… It’ll only take an hour” 

“Why don’t we sent her shopping?” she said, sulkily, and a little childishly, she realized as soon as the words left her lips.

“Zav, be reasonable, Betty is very kind, but she is no engineer. I know what I need, but I cannot describe everything to her.  She can keep you company while I get you what you need to be clean and comfortable for the night and tomorrow”.

“You’re right… but please come cuddle with me till she gets here”. He approached her. Zava grabbed him hungrily, holding him tenderly against her chest with both hands. His little hands caressed fondly the yielding flesh of her bosom.

So nice to have you back… So nice to hold you in my hands… warm and tight against me.

Nestled upon Zava’s magnificent breasts, listening to her breathing and heartbeat get calmer and calmer as she held him with both hands against her like he was a priceless gem, Mark could not help, nevertheless, be worried for Zava.

Since he had reunited with her, he had noticed her watchful eye following his every move, even when she was talking with Betty, or when he was being briefed by McAllister and Poole about the quarantine procedures and the cavalcade, a little ways from her. The others had noticed too, and were getting really nervous from being trailed everywhere by her big, observant eyes. Despite her mostly outwardly calm appearance, he knew Zava and he could feel she was scared and uncertain, but even he did not expect her to burst into a small panic attack as he said he was going to leave her for a while for some much necessary shopping.

Zava had always been a brave, independent, outgoing woman, and he had never seen her get insecure and clingy, which meant she was shaken to her core by recent experiences. Thankfully, she really had not been mistreated not hurt, only restrained against her will and uncomfortable. He knew from experience, from when the people of the Spindrift had realized they were stuck with no immediate (or even none at all) way to return home from an alien, hostile place, that psychological shock was to be expected under such duress.

In their case, in the few weeks before the crash, it took different forms for every crew member, according to her or his personality. Burton was irascible and snapped at everyone, as he did not want to be blamed for the accident. Valerie did not want to be left alone at any time, and kept following Dan, Mark and Burton everywhere they went and did not want to eat, Betty cried a lot and did not want to leave the ship, especially after seeing the first giants. Dan, being a kindhearted, brave soul, tried to keep things going, cooking and cleaning after everyone, chatting as if they were in a camping trip. Fitzhugh kept screaming at everyone with his shrill voice till Mark wanted to punch him in the face.

Mark himself now acknowledged that he himself had become sullen and aloof, clashing especially with Burton, who insisted in ordering everyone around as if they were crewmembers under his command and not simply passengers who happened to be on a trip. Valerie was a tease, trying to avoid work by flirting her way out of all chores shamelessly. He bonded with Betty from the beginning as she was much braver and more reasonable than the others, which is why they often got paired together for scavenging trips. Her cool-headed and kind demeanor had helped in many a confrontation with giants, when Mark just wanted to shoot his way through.

He knew Zava, unlike Mark, whose parents had died years ago, was very attached to her family, particularly to her father and older sister, and she had many friends from both sexes at college. She also had lost, with her departure from giantland, all her clothes, jewelry, and the little things every woman treasures and hoards over the years, like mementos from her childhood, letters from former boyfriends, birthday gifts from friends and family, books, pictures, magazine and newspaper clippings, etc. Not to mention her studies, although he knew Zava could study much more advanced and interesting subjects now that she was on Earth, with the whole internet at her disposal.

He did not want to give her false hopes, though. Unlike the people from the Spindrift, who had clung to the slim but real possibility of fixing the ship and leaving giantland, it was really, really unlikely she would see her giant loved ones, or indeed anyone her own size, in the near future, or ever.

He had a plan, though, to allow her to talk to her parents and friends. He knew radio transmissions could be sent through the dimensional rift, and he hoped to be able to send messages to her parents through the equivalent of HAM radio on giantland. They only had to find someone on that network who would be willing to phone the Casafus-Djacome family, so they could be ready to talk to Zava by radio, and if this could be done and Zava’s dad bought a HAM set, they could talk regularly. Video would be more difficult because of the technical limitations on the giantland side, but in time anything was possible. He did not want Zava’s family to think she had been kidnapped or died on some wilderness trail leaving no trace.

This would likely have to wait, however, for the end of the probation period for Zava (and him!), as trying to send messages through the rift would surely be detected by the government and they, always suspicious, would surely try to restrict such efforts, and always someone could accuse them of sending coded messages as preparation for invasion; others (like Burton was at times) could be fearful that the giants’ government detected the transmissions and could try to find the rift and come to attack Earth. He was going to talk to the president about it, or someone he could find amiable along the way, in the government.

Mark kept racking his brains to try to come to an explanation of why they had been teleported to Earth, and the only thing that made sense is that it had something to do with him, as they ended up on his planet and nowhere else… residual, unknown energies clinging to him after his passing through the rift, perhaps… but so many years after the Spindrift accident, what could be left on him to cause such a dramatical, and specific phenomenon? If he did not knew better, it would seem as if someone did it to them on purpose (but who??)… because a random teleporting phenomenon could have, just as well, transported them to the core of the sun or somewhere in the empty, colossal void of outer space.

Arriving on any planet, an insignificant mote of dust in the unimaginable big, mostly empty cosmos was much more unlikely.  Arriving on planet Earth, and on land (it would have been, statistically, much more likely to appear in the ocean) was like hitting the galactic jackpot. These things simply did not happen. He was sure more than one ‘expert’ of the probation panel was going to come to the same conclusions, and his only answer: “no fucking idea” was going to satisfy no one; it did not satisfy even him.

The uncanny event still made him very nervous… could the teleporting be reversed without warning, ever again? He just hoped that if it happened, both were transported together. After last day events, he now was certain if Zava was gone from his life, he would have nothing to live for anymore.

He was determined to get the very social Zava to get to know many people, go to many social events, and indeed, become a celebrity. She deserved the spotlight and he knew that although it would take a toll on their privacy as lovers, it was the best way to keep her protected from the government, and her best chance at earning her own money, as the costs of keeping her fed, clothed and entertained were going to be astronomical, and if anything happened to him (always possible!), she would have her own income. I will do everything in my power to make you happy, he thought, resolutely. You’ll have the life we’d never be able to afford on giantland, here on Earth.

“Mark?” Zava’s sweet voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Yes?”

“Did you really want to marry me or was it all only a show to garner some public support and sympathy from the people?”

“I would never lie to you Zava. You know I love you!”

“Yes… but…”

“Zav… please look at me”

Zava held her hand, palm up in front of her face, palm up, with Mark sitting on it. Her enormous, innocent eyes fixed on his.

“Dear, sweet Zava. Sorry for not asking you to marry me sooner. I just felt so unworthy, so insignificant that I thought I had not earned the right to ask you to marry me. After all, who would marry us there? I confess I thought of it often, but was ashamed to pop the question for fear that you would laugh at me”.

“Mark! I would never belittle you! You’re my whole life… If anything happened to you… she inclined her head, tears overflowing her beautiful, enormous almond-shaped eyes”. She sniffed and continued in a firmer voice, steading herself. “I even THOUGHT, many a time, of asking you, Mark, to marry me, but well, I knew no official or priestess would consent… and I consoled myself that we were married already, in all ways that counted, ever since we made love for the first time”.

“I know that here, on my turf, as I told you, Zav, we’ll have no such impediments, and so I wasted no further time and asked you right away. After I put my affairs in order regarding my identity, bank accounts and my company, we’ll start preparing our wedding. I plan to ask Betty to help us”.

“Yes!!! I’d love that!! Do you think she’ll do it?” Zava’s countenance brightened.

“I know she loves such things from many conversations we had, and she likes you. Not only her, darling… if everything goes according to my plans, wedding magazines, tv shows and venues will be tripping over each other, fighting tooth and nail to have you choose them for the wedding. In our country, different religions are not an impediment for marriage, either.  We can get a local priest to perform the ceremony, or we can even draft one according to your Five Gods of giantland”.

“Giantland?” Zava laughed.

“That’s what Betty says the Spindrift people call your world now, Zav. Valerie even wrote a book about her experiences there as well, calling it just that. She was a movie star and a socialite even before the crash on giantland, you know”.

“I’ve been wanting to write a book about ours, too, Mark”.

“By all means! It would sell, believe me. Zav, everything you do here will be a goldmine for you. You’re the most special person on Earth, and not only because I love you, you really are unique here! You’re already famous!”

“All thanks to you, Mark… you really saved me! If I was alone I would never had pulled it off…  I thought I was going to be a prisoner forever… I… I… had never been pointed at with a gun before… never been tied and arrested before… I was really afraid, but did not want to show it” she looked wistfully at her carbon handcuffs. Mark caught her look and said:

“As I told you, we’re not out of the woods yet, but we’ll get better, you’ll see”.

“I will never see my parents or friends again, will I?” It seemed now Zava’s fears were surfacing one by one, thought Mark, heartbroken… Poor Zava… I know how you feel.

He then started talking and went over his earlier thoughts and plans to help Zava keep in touch with her family. Zava’s heart swelled in her chest as she listened to Mark’s ideas. As usual, he’s thought of everything! I love him so much!!  It was evident he was always two steps ahead, trying to think always of ways to keep her comfortable and happy, catering to her every need, present and future. That’s why they say love hurts, thought Zava, as she looked lovingly and listened to Mark talking, animated with his plans. Because, deep down, we know we are mortals, all happiness is fleeting, and our loved ones will be taken from us by time, chance or death. That’s why cherishing every happy moment, every hug, every kiss, every loving word, is so important… at any time, it could be our last. I hope I don’t forget this.

“Mark…”

“Tell me, Zav”.

“You know what I was thinking as I walked here” she said, slowly, mouthing every word and now holding Mark in her fist, her ring finger pressing lightly but meaningfully at his groin as she got him closer to her face, eyes alight. Mark was now looking at her smiling mouth very closely.

“I’ve got a feeling I’m going to find out…” said Mark, grinning as he shimmied his hips against the pad of her finger, poking it.

At that moment, they heard a knock on the hangar’s door.

McAllister and Restrepo were outside the hangar, as Dr. Poole and her team finished setting up all the hardware for the quarantine barriers. It was dark now. They had finished the douche, and Ms. Hamilton was about to be the first to go through it as she went inside the hangar. She would also be going through it in the way out. Restrepo, holding her tablet, said:

“Colonel, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

“What is it, major?”

“I have been monitoring Miss Casafus’ gravitonic shackles. There are some readings that have me… well, worried or at least mystified”.

“Why? Are they failing? Do we need to change them?”

“All of the four are independent of each other, and their readings are consistent… they seem to be working properly. The thing is…” she hesitated, looking at Dr. Poole and the others, who were busy working, at a distance.

“I’m the one getting worried now, speak up, Restrepo”

“When Mr. Wilson ran to meet with Ms. Casafus, I was checking the gravitonics on the tablet, as it was likely she tried to run towards him, and it was a good time to test them… when she picked him up and stood up so quickly, I was startled… she should not have been able to do that, the shackles were put on and designed to prevent especially such sudden movements; admittedly, we’d never used ones so big”

“So they failed…”

“No. As the stood, the hand manacles changed from their original weight of eighty kilos each to 18000 and then I ramped them up manually to 35 000… I could have gone all the way to 250 000, the limit, but did not dare as she was holding him in her hands… she barely noticed”.

“Isn’t there the possibility of misreadings?”

“That’s what I thought. I waited for another opportunity to test them, and then when she was crawling under the power lines I waited until she was with her hands on the ground, so she did not notice the change, and again I ramped gradually the weight manually to 210 tons on each hand”. Restrepo swallowed. “She struggled only a little to get herself off the floor.  I’m sure those manacles then weighed more than twice her weight at that moment. It was pretty close to their limit. I slowly took off the weight as she started walking again. She did not seem to notice; Colonel, there is no way both manacles gave the same wrong readings”.

“That means she is getting stronger? Didn’t Dr. Poole said a being of her size could not exist on Earth’s conditions without long term problems?”

“Gravity does not seem to be a problem with her, judging by these results. Either she has been that strong from the beginning or somehow, she is getting stronger, and quickly”. Said Restrepo “I asked Dr. Poole how much a humanoid of her size should be able to hoist with her hands when we were calibrating the manacles. She said at Ms. Casafus size, and with her slim build she should not be able to lift more than half her weight, about 80 tons max, because of mechanical constraints. Clearly that is not the case with her… I saw her struggle with the foot manacles when she woke up, but now she seems to have adapted upwards in terms of strength, fast”.

“Xenobiology is not my forte, Major, but I suspect this is not the last surprise Ms. Casafus is going to give us... stronger is better news than her bones collapsing under her weight, though. She’ll keep changing whether we (or she) want it or not… as long as she does not take flight all of a sudden, sprouts horns or starts shooting killer beams from her eyes… I will speak with Dr. Poole about it, though”. He paused, taking a look at the armored robots lined behind him. “And… let’s keep the walking drones around this hangar, and two armored VTOL airships, with miniguns and Maverick missiles. I want them covered, but ready, near the hangar, just in case”.

Betty was now knocking on the hangar’s door.

****

“Who is it?” Zava’s melodious, husky voice rumbled from inside, with a tinge of impatience on it.

“It’s me, Betty… can I come in?” Shouted Betty.

“Oh!!! Of course, Betty, please do!” Betty waited a moment and turned the door knob on the smaller personnel door embedded in the big rolling doors of the hangar, and entered. Zava was sitting on the floor, cross legged, with her back to the hangar doors and was now turning to face them, and the entering Betty, clad in white overalls, after passing through the douche. Her own clothes were left outside.

Zava’s face was smiling towards Betty, but clearly flushed. She was, reluctantly, putting Mark down, who was also quite red in the face. It was clear Mark, who Betty had thought hated being picked up by giants, loved being held by Zava, as he grudgingly stepped off her hand into the floor, sliding his hand lovingly along the tip of Zava’s extended fingers as he stepped away from the giant girl to get a chair for Betty. I wonder what these two were up to while they were alone… thought Betty, with a pang of jealousy that surprised her. Am I that petty? She thought, dismayed.

“Betty…” said Zava, shyly, with a sidelong glance at Mark. “I was wondering if you’d mind staying with me for an hour or two as Mark goes shopping for some supplies”.

“Oh, of course! That’s why I came here. It’ll be nice for us girls to talk… alone” she said as Mark  passed beside her on his way to the door, him lifting an eyebrow at her last choice of word. “Dr. Poole is being airlifted from this airport to Boston, I mean, off the island and to a nearby city at midnight, and offered to take me with her. I have to work tomorrow. That gives us plenty of time to catch up”.

“Ok. girls. Will be back as soon as I can” said Mark, opening the same door Betty entered though. “See you soon, love” he waved at Zava, who waved back. “Bye, Betty”. He added, and disappeared after he closed the door behind him. Zava seemed to visibly deflate as Mark left. Betty got closer to Zava, carrying her chair, and sat.

“Cheer up, Zava, your situation has improved quite a bit” Said Betty.

“Thanks to Mark… I really thought I was in deep shit back there, Betty. I probably am, still, but at least I have a roof over my head, now”.

“Being held as a prisoner is no fun, I know”. Replied Betty. “Mark also rescued me quite a few times in giantland… and I him. He’s always got a plan”.

“That’s an understatement, if ever there was one. He even had this funnel for… ” Zava flushed again.

“I know!” Betty laughed. “I was with him when he made it… he did not want to tell me what it was for, but finally succumbed to pressure. He’s got a few more things for you, but I will offer no spoilers”.

“Betty… I know you told me Mark was too old for me, and too little, but things have worked out great!… we get along so well…”

“Well, honey, I did not want you to get hurt or angry at his rejection, Mark can be quite stubborn, and he really did nor seem that into you at the time… I did not know you all that well, and I was worried you would take it out on him if he refused your advances, as it would be easy for you to overpower him, get carried away and hurt him, perhaps grievously, even without meaning to. It had happened before: one of our crew was killed by an overly attached giant woman who squeezed him too hard in her fingers, it seems, while undressing him against his will”. Betty noticed Zava paled and looked away, biting her lip, but said nothing.

“Valerie was also hurt and molested by Millan, your friend… she even threatened to insert her in her… parts”.

“Former friend” Said Zava, flatly, as she paled some more, frowning.

“Anyway, Mark had me fooled on your account and more…” continued Betty “I guess he is very good at keeping his thoughts his own; not a predictable man, at all, and believe me, dear, THAT is a rarity on this world or on any other. Lemme tell’ya, I did not see it coming when he left us the day before our comeback… he worked himself almost to death trying to get the ship fixed, and then he does fix it, and then sneaks out and disappears! It made no sense!”

“He did not leave a note, or anything?” Said Zava, wide eyed, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Two meager lines, saying ‘do not look for me’ or something like that. Valerie and Burton even said he was probably suicidal. Oh, how I cried!”.

“Oh my gods!”

“Well, it turned out right in the end, he was with you!”. Said Betty. “As for me, I got back, and settled back into my old life, mostly. I’m even engaged, now”.

“Congratulations! When are you going to marry?”

“Next summer, on my vacations”, said Betty, so we can marry outdoors on a sunny day. I hate the cold!”.

“Er… when is that? I’m not very familiar with Earth’s season almanac”.

“Oh! In about six months, or a little more…. I mean, about four of your months. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to get adjusted to all the day’s, months’ names, etc.”

“Yeah… I don’t think I am ever going back to my… Anyway, I… we have no idea how we got here… I’m only happy Mark came along”.

“I saw the videos on the news where you explained the incident… can you really not remember anything, even a little bit odd before?”

“Before, no, but hmm… after I found myself here on Earth, up to the point to where Mark finally appeared, I had this vague fancy that I was being punished, but did not dwell on it too much”.

“Punished? Why?” Said Betty, puzzled.

“It is so silly…”

“Tell me, honey”

 “When we were on that hike, we actually were into a kind of a religious sanctuary that men, males, I mean, are forbidden to step into… and I had Mark on me”.

“On you? Can’t really picture Mark riding willingly on anyone’s pocket, even yours, honey” Laughed Betty.

“Well, he was not riding in my pocket… my bag, or my hand” Said Zava, mischievously, leaving Betty to imagine where she was carrying him “although sometimes he had to, but not that day, as we were all by ourselves in the middle of a wilderness trail”.

“What was really happening before you swooned?” Said Betty, unsure she really wanted to hear the answer.

“Well, we were… cavorting”. Zava flushed furiously. “I wasn’t kidding you when I told you if whatever happened had happened just minutes later, I was planning to be as naked as he was”.

“Cavorting? How does that even work?” Said Betty, genuinely curious. “I mean… with the size differences, and all”.

“Oh, trust me, Betty, we have had plenty of practice. It definitely works” laughed Zava. “Anyways, I had finished him off…” Betty lifted her eyebrows, Zava continued “and was looking forward to get my due, when there comes this thunderstorm…. all of a sudden, I kid you not, Betty, lightning was striking the ground just a few feet in front and behind us on the ledge we were under… and then my fingertips started to glow purple-blue… I got dizzy… my vision started to fade at the corners towards the center… I was barely aware I was going to faint, and only just managed to tilt myself backwards so I did not fall on top of Mark, who I was holding in my hand. Before I blacked out. Next thing I know, I’m on my back, in tinyland, with no Mark in sight, and surrounded by killer robots”.

“So you think you were punished by God? And being exiled to Earth?”

“Goddess. One of the Five Gods, anyway. We were in the sanctuary of the Goddess of Love”.

“You’re right, it sounds kind of difficult to believe… but stranger things have happened… like dimensional rifts on space, on the other side of which a planet of giants exists”

“Or a planet of tinies”. Countered Zava. “But if I have Mark with me, it is no real punishment, so…”.

“That reminds me, Zava”. Said Betty. “This plan Mark has of making you a celebrity can backfire… please be careful before every step you take. Mark is a man, and there are some things he probably does not think about things that can happen to you in show business, as a woman”.

“What do you mean, Betty”

“You would not believe the stories Val told me… or you probably would, men are the same lechers everywhere”. Said Betty, rolling her eyes. “You are young, and very beautiful. You come from a world that is considerably more conservative than ours. I’m pretty sure sooner rather than later you’ll be offered money for posing nude… and other things… that can be Ok, if the venue is tasteful… you’ll get the feel for what is and what is not, in time, as you get accustomed to our culture. Some powerful men might want to pressure you to debase yourself in exchange for things or for not doing things to you or Mark… beware of politicians, particularly”.

“They can try…” Said Zava, lifting her chin, proudly “I’ll handle them”.

“I know… just… just take care of yourself, Zava. I tell you this as a friend”.

“By the way” Said Zava, eager to steer the conversation to happier grounds “I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me with a certain wedding that’s going to take place soon.  I think I will need… how is it Mark called it?... a maid of honor”

Betty smiled.

A little over two hours later, Mark finally returned. He opened one of the hangar doors and entered with a pickup truck loaded with things on the bed. A larger truck could be heard outside. Mark unloaded the truck and started bringing in several large crates from outside, on rolling pallets, stacking them against the far wall of the hangar. He was finally finished and closed the door behind him.

Betty and Zava had been watching, amazed, at the amount of things he had brought in. He faced them, panting, when he had stacked the last pallet against the others, and said:

“I think that’s all! Betty, Dr. Poole is waiting for you outside. The airship is ready to depart”.  

“OK”. Said Betty, getting off her chair “It’s been nice talking to you Zava! Mark has my number, so we can be on the same page for the wedding preparations… we can do a lot of online shopping, together, and other things we’ll take care of when quarantine is over. I’m usually at home a 7PM already, if you want to get together online”.

“That’ll be nice” Said Zava. Has Mark gotten one of those ‘smartphones’ my size? Because otherwise, how am I going to be online with Betty? And looks like I’ll need a clock, too… when or where? is 7? PM?

Betty extended her hand and Zava, taking the hint, extended her pinkie towards her friend. Betty squeezed and shook Zava’s finger as she would have another tiny person’s hand. Zava could tell that Betty did not want to be picked up, or otherwise be grabbed by a giant’s hand, ever again… a pity, because she really wanted to hug her.

“Take care, girlfriend. Don’t let anyone take advantage of you”. Said Betty, and after a pause and slight hesitation, hugged Zava’s lowered hand, squeezing as hard as she could. “Be happy”. Then she turned and gave a much longer. Perhaps too long… hug to Mark, and, squeezing his shoulder, left the hangar. After a few instants, Zava whispered:

“Mark… will you ensure the little door Betty just got out of is locked, please?. She almost walked in on us last time… good thing she knocked first, but I noticed she just had to turn the knob and push the door in. I’d like some privacy”.

“OK” Mark walked to the personnel door and said… “shall I stay with you inside?”

“Of course silly!!!  I don’t want to let you out of my sight till tomorrow, at least”, said Zava, in mock exasperation. Mark ensured the door(s) were secured and turned to Zava. “Well, I… oops”

C’mere you little hunk! She pounced on him, grabbing Mark in her fist before he could react, with the panther-like quickness she could sometimes display. 

“Can I check something, love?…” she whispered, not wanting to be overheard from outside the building. Zava was on her knees and had brought him close to her smirking face…. her eyes were ablaze with desire, and although she had him pinned in her hand, at her mercy, still wanted his permission. Her pussy was aching to be filled, though… when she was this horny her nastier side wished to just grab him in her fist and fuck herself with Mark as a living, wriggling dildo, feeling him struggle inside her vagina…. Or suck on his head, surrounding his neck with her lips, tongue licking his face with abandon, invading his mouth with her giant tongue… whether he wanted it or not…

“Be my guest…” said Mark, laughing. He knew any other man would be alarmed by his giant girlfriend’s sometimes aggressive forwardness, as both clearly were aware she was the stronger of the two, with a libido to match, but she was confident Mark knew she would never hurt him.... though after the chat with Betty about overly attached giant would-be lovers, she was determined to be extra-careful from now on; Mark did not know that, of course.

All Mark knew was that being desired with so much intensity by a woman as beautiful as Zava was an incredible turn-on for him.

“I just want to see…” said Zava, mischievously, opening her left fist, with which she was grabbing Mark, except for her index and middle finger, still pinning him. She brought her right hand closer and carefully inserted her fingernail between his abdomen and his pants. “…If those people in the hospital left your… I mean, MY goodies complete”. A skillful tug popped the button of his pants open. She slid his shoes and socks off, and then tugged at his pants until she got them off him. She carelessly tossed them aside. Mark saw them flying at least a dozen meters till they hit the wall. “Otherwise… I’d have to go there and give them a piece of my mind, and my foot”. She looked, satisfied, at the bulge in his briefs.

“Everything seems to be in there, though. I know you brought me a lot of presents, dear fiancée… but this is the one I was looking forward to unboxing first” again she daintily inserted her fingernail under the waistband of his briefs and pulled down… his now fully erect manhood sprang out immediately. Zava gasped as she gazed hungrily at his member” My member…she thought, with an inner chuckle. But before she could do anything else, Mark ordered, poignantly:

“Take off your clothes, babe”.

Before complying, she nimbly slid his briefs off his legs. The briefs suffered the same fate as his pants and shoes. She let him go in front of her and first took of her top., he likewise took off his shirt.  I definitely got sunburn. She thought as the top slid off her arms and over her head. The same stinging sensation as she slid her pants off confirmed the sunburn hypothesis. Now I only have my earrings on! She thought, giddily, as she sat on her haunches, her index finger already extended towards his crotch…

“But first… we’ll get your teeth brushed” Said Mark, unexpectedly. ”Sorry babe, but your breath is really, really rank. What did they feed you with?”

Uhhh? “Oh my gods! Are you serious???” Zava’s hands flew to her mouth, groaning.

“Hell, yeah…” Said Mark, with a grimace. “I can put up with morning breath, but believe me, Zav., I would not be bringing this up if I wasn’t serious, as wound up as I am”.

“Sorry!!!” Shit! I hope Betty did not notice!!

“You haven’t brushed your teeth in the last 24 hours, it’d be my guess”

“24 hours? Why so specific?”

“Well, it is the number of hours in a day here on Earth… Earth hours, that is”.

“In that case, I think it could be more… but how am I going to brush my teeth? I suppose we’ll have to fabricate a toothbrush my own size... I don’t feel like soldering or indeed, building anything right now, to be sure”.

“I was planning on servicing you myself”

“I was hoping you’d do that before this breath thing got in the way!” Said Zava, with a giggle.

“Before I entered the building with the shopping, I was setting up a water heater in the water supply outside the hangar, connected to the same fire hose we used before to wash your hands. I’m planning on brushing your teeth, and giving you a hot shower… before we continue with further servicing.  But no more talking. Lay down on your belly, and put your ear to the ground so I can reach your mouth”. Zava complied immediately.

Mark decided that the vista of Zava lying naked on the ground, disheveled, but shiny hair sprawled around her head was just too adorable. Her huge doe eyes were fixed on him, trusting and expectant. Her hands were near her head, lying on the ground ready to assist him. He could see the enticing hillock of her womanly hips beyond, protruding high into the air.  He approached one of the smaller packages he had brought in the pickup and produced a handheld scrub brush and a couple of jumbo sized toothbrush paste tubes.

“Open wide, Zav., I’m going in”

Zava complied, opening her mouth wide, but keeping her tongue retracted, unlike last time with Dr. Poole. Mark entered her mouth, after applying a generous dollop of toothbrush paste on the brush. Crouching inside her maw, he worked the teeth from the inside of her mouth first, as he knew Zava would get worked up by the time he had to work outside her. He was not wrong, as it was not long before Zava’s tongue tip started probing on his little feet, legs and body, first bashful, then getting bolder as he did not object.

He finished and got out of her mouth, covered by her steamy, sweet-smelling saliva, her tongue in pursuit, along with a trailing, throaty moan from her. Then he started working on her front teeth, moving aside her lips with his hands to make way for the brush, as she closed her jaws. While he worked, he could feel Zava tremble each time his tiny hands ran along the inside and outside of her lips, and as his abdomen, chest and legs… and other parts rubbed along her mouth. Zava soon realized Mark had dropped the brush, obviously finishing her cleaning, as he rubbed himself bodily on her lips, begging for attention, softly moaning himself… she could feel his stiff cock poking at her lips as his hips bucked against her.

Zava lifted her head of the ground and with one easy movement of her fingers, tripped Mark, setting him down on his back carefully, on the floor. She easily pinioned his hands above his head with two fingers of one hand, the other restraining his sprawled feet. It turns me on so much having him naked and helpless on my hands, completely under my control and begging for more…  She looked at him for a moment there, tiny, adorable, delicious manhood bobbing in the air as his hips reared, muscled torso and arms straining against her, eyes huge on hers, beseeching for her touch. Then she brought her head and mouth above him and covered his entire midsection with her mouth, sucking gently but avidly.

Her skillful tongue and lips played with his manhood and his balls, her teeth almost grazing his sides in her eagerness, sucking, licking, kissing, rubbing, making him writhe in pleasure, gritting his teeth to contain the moans that surely would be heard by people just outside their door if he let them escape. From his vantage point, he could see one of Zava’s huge eyes, closed above him, long lashes fluttering as she enjoyed him as much as he enjoyed her, until she felt his explosive release, belying his puny size.

He got up after a few seconds, legs trembling, to face a beaming Zava, clearly proud of her accomplishments, still lying belly down, chin propped on her hands as he ogled him openly. He walked to the wall, unrolling the fire hose. He opened the valve on the mouth of the hose, letting the water run until he was satisfied that the heater had caught up with the flow.

“Now lie on your side, babe” he said. As she did so, he turned on the hose again, eliciting a girlish yelp and her hand flying automatically to shield herself from the blast.

“Hey! It’s pretty warm!” said Zava, approvingly, retiring her hand to let the stream hit her breasts, generating attractive ripples in her soft womanly flesh.

“Of course! I don’t want you getting pneumonia… it’s very chilly outside!”

 With the giant woman on her right side, her beautiful naked body was displayed in her full glory before him. She was supporting her head on her hand, elbow propped on the ground.  She teasingly bent and lifted her left leg, foot with pointy toes, Mark seeing her cleft flex under the movement.

“We’ll wash your hair later… I don’t think it is a good idea to get your hair wet this late at night”… said Mark, redirecting the jet of water down her body to get her wet in preparation for the lathering to follow. “Ok babe, I’m going to need your help here… I don’t want to slip off your soapy tits and break my legs when I fall off them”.

Mark closed the hose and got hold of a large, soft and thick beach towel he had bought to use it as a giant loofa, plunging the now soaking towel into a keg of powdered soap. With some trepidation, he saw Zava’s hand snake down slowly towards him, long fingers spread as an enormous, but shapely starfish, trembling in eagerness to capture him… but she first slid the soap keg closer for easy access. And then she reached out again for him.

Mark knew he was going to have to be careful… from the almost savage look on Zava’s eyes, her urges were on a hair trigger. But her soft, warm skin, the way she squeezed him just right, the sexy smell of her on her hand, and the way she knew how to tease his prick with her fingertips as she held him had him waiting for this moment. He also was aware that he had a slight fixation on Zava’s womanly, sexy hands. If he had to choose, her sex, her breasts, her mouth and hands were the parts she liked most about her; everything about their shape drove him crazy. Her eyes, too, but those he could not really touch.

Zava got hold of him and got him and the loofa closer to his body, sliding him and the loofa over her neck and breasts, then her armpits and belly, Mark’s feet skating over her slick skin as she moved him... her whole body was shivering, with the chill or desire, or both. She lingered on her breasts, grunting to contain moans as Mark’s feet teased her hardening nipples.  Then, lying on her back, she let him on her tummy as she took the towel from him and plunged it in the soap keg, replenishing it for what was to come before delivering it back to him.

She slid him all over her legs, lifting them into the air to reach every part of them, tickling herself with the loofa and with Mark’s body on the inside of her thighs and the back of her knees. She avoided her crotch, as she did not trust herself to feel Mark’s burning skin there without losing control… then she put Mark on the ground and again took the towel from him to renew its soapy coating and then started to do her buttocks, crotch and back.

When she felt sufficiently lathered, she rolled on her belly, and then lifted one of her legs over Mark, letting it fall down so he was now at her feet, between her spread legs, looking up them, as she in turn turned her head to watch him stare at her body with a knowing smile. She started to wiggle and shimmy her hips and buttocks, invitingly. Mark gulped as he saw her cunt and anus spread and close with each lewd jerk of her rear, even more as one of her hand reached back, first slapping noisily and then squeezing one of her cheeks, letting her glistening crevasse split open for an exhilarating second, exposing her inner pinkness, before letting go.

Mark shook himself and got the water hose ready, moving the ring until it was in full blast and let the water go in an arc towards her upper back and then then lower to her buttocks, suds streaming off her in sheets. He reluctantly moved away from her spread legs and started washing her sides. She got on her back, holding her hair and head up so it did not trail on the wet ground, as Mark directed the hose’s jet to clear all the suds from her front until she was only wet but not soapy, steam rising off her gargantuan body in clearly visible curls.

“I left the best for last dear... get ready” Said Mark.

She then got on all fours, legs spread to each side of him but then lowered her head to the ground, propping it on its side, torso slightly tilted sideways, with her breasts hanging, left one almost touching the ground as she twisted herself because she wanted to see what he’d do, watching him from between her legs.

It was just too much. Zava’s perfect, spread ass in the air rocking back and forth, her muscular, curvaceous thighs in full display, thicker than sequoia trunks where they joined with her ass. Her clit hood was now full in front and up, from which the two fleshy petals of her labia parted from the clearly visible nub, spreading towards her manifestly pulsating holes. His erection was now almost painful, begging for release.

Mark turned the hose again, aiming it for her taint, prompting a gasp from Zava, who now had her eyes closed, lips curled up in a snarl of need. Her left hand flew to cover her mouth, her right hand propping herself on the floor. That feels so goooood!

He teased the rim of her anus with the jet for a bit, and then he let it run down her slit towards her awaiting, throbbing clit. Oh… yesss.. right in my clittty…. Oh… Mark… I want to feel you inside me so much… kicking… wriggling inside….. As the warm spurt tickled her core, her hips twitched violently, and although he was not looking, Mark could hear a moan turned into a long-drawn-out growl worthy of a tigress, as she tried to stifle it to prevent it being heard from outside… although he was sure some sounds had to leak out of the hangar, as Zava’s lungs made sounds too low and powerful to be contained by a few inches of metal and brick. He then deftly rolled the jet on her clit, making slow, tight circles around the fist-sized fleshy knob.

Zava spread her legs wider, lowering them in a near split, until they were only about three to four meters above Mark, hips jerking and bucking wildly as he kept fueling her need into a nuclear blast, not long in coming judging by her progressively needy whimpers. Mark caught sight of a thick, clear strand of grool ending in a gob as big as his fist, leaking out, pendulous, from her pussy hole, before colliding with her labia and oozing down.

It finally happened, and Zava’s hips collapsed on the ground, her tummy slamming on the floor before him, shaking, but he did not relent, keeping the stream focused on her clit, as he walked near it, watching her anus and cunt palpitate in unison, his continued use of the water jet on her propelling her into her second or third orgasm...

Unable to resist anymore, he closed the hose and closed the distance, rubbing his whole body on her swollen, quivering sex…getting on her knees to grab her bloated clit with his hands and suck, squeeze, lick and scour it with his teeth and nails. Zava’s thighs closed on him, squeezing him, but he was in the slight gap of her crotch, so he was not crushed but only surrounded by a sweltering cocoon of her fragant flesh.

Buried in there, he could barely hear Zava’s breath escaping between her teeth in a hiss, holding back a scream that surely would bring the military outside running if she let it go. Finally, she spread her legs back, surely fearing he’d suffocate, giving him room to stand and rub his cock on her clit, slapping his shaft and head on it. It did not take long before his warm load spurted out on the scarlet bump.

“Ohhh…. Was that you…. So warmmm” purred Zava. Mark stood, seeing now that he was at eye level with her opening. He started to slid his hand inside, her hips gyrating slowly in approval, as he felt with his hand around and inside her, his chest and abdomen getting thoroughly lathered with her juices as he went in all the way to his shoulder.

I need more… want more…

“Get inside me… I don’t care how…. I need you… please Mark… fuck me… fuck me…” cooed his girlfriend, desperate with need.

“Going to need your help for that, babe” Panted Mark, seeing that he had not enough purchase to wriggle inside her in this position. Her hand appeared from above, groping carefully with index and thumb, until she felt his head, sliding her finger down his body until she felt she could grasp him safely. He was lifted into the air as she rolled on her back, scooting her ass backwards on the floor until she got to a drier part of the hangar.

Zava then pulled her legs up in the air, pushing down on the back of her spread thighs with her forearms. She then started to slide Mark on her now exposed, distended pussy, guiding his feet towards her winking opening. Her impatient face was looking at him in anticipation from between her upturned knees, mouth opening in an O as she felt his hard body slide easily inside her cunt.

Conscious that they had not prepared her lifeline, Mark kept his arms up to avoid being completely submerged in her vagina. Her head disappeared as her neck shot backwards in pleasure. She pushed him in with one finger on each of his shoulders, and he pushed with his arms until he was half out, her pushing him back in until they fell into an easy rhythm, his body sliding in and out of her oozing pussy, thin, creamy strings of white grool clinging to his torso as he pushed himself outside only to be stuffed back in, delicately, by her slender but powerful fingertips. He could feel her vaginal walls rippling around his body, trying to suck him in completely, voracious to consume him in all his length. His arms were getting tired, though, and it seems Zava, too, was starting to run out of steam, as she lowered her legs to the ground, still open, but now trembling feebly as a last orgasmed surged out of her.

Mark felt her hand leave him, as her vagina contracted powerfully around him, squeezing him half out. The contractions continued for a few seconds, as Zavas’s grunts winded down, until she fell completely still. Mark got suspicious…

“Zav?” No answer. “Hey! Don’t tell me you fell asleep on me!”  Nothing.

Mark, arms burning with the effort, pushed on her soft vulva until he was completely out of the fleshy sex tunnel of his fiancée, rolling carefully so he landed on his feet in front of her ass, almost sleeping in his very grooly feet.  He had to walk all the way around one of her long, extended legs until he could see her face. She had indeed, fallen asleep, mouth lightly open, a gratified but peaceful expression on her lips. Now, as he gaped, she started to snore softly. Mark stood there, naked, sticky with her juices, and incredulous, chuckling to himself as he looked, heart swelling in his chest with love, at his sleeping, giant woman lying naked and sprawled on the ground. He did not blame her. She must be exhausted after the physical and emotional rollercoaster of the last day. Let her have her rest. A pity he did not have time to put the inflating mattress in place. With a foolish grin on his face, shaking his head, he approached the line of crates to unpack and set up the gas heaters so she would not get cold. 

Zava woke up, a little hot, feeling small beads of sweat running down her neck.  She lay there, running her hands through her hair, or at least she tried to, it was very tangled. How am I going to get rid of the frizz and snarls without a brush? If I do not wash it soon grass will start to grow in there… I can feel enough dirt for a small lawn there. She was a little confused, trying to order her thoughts, as she slowly looked around to assimilate her surroundings and the events from last night. It was already daytime, but of course, she had no idea of what time it was, Earth time, that is, as she gradually, overwhelmingly recalled that thinking about measuring time in her world’s units and measurements made no sense now.

Her hand slid to her crotch, smiling lazily, a little abashed as she was sure she had fallen asleep with the last orgasm Mark had given her. Surely enough, the little guy was not there anymore. She hoped he was not annoyed. She propped herself on her elbows, looking around for her fiancée. 

The first thing she noticed was that she was surrounded by nine gas heaters, thin iron columns on wheels, giving off heat. They were close to Mark’s height, and were far enough to avoid, she supposed, for her to topple them with any sleepy trashing. It was perhaps a little too warm. Better than being chilled by cold sea breeze. In a corner of the hangar there was a small kitchen, too small to service her anyway. Mark was not around.

She could now hear running water, though. Carefully crawling on her hands and knees, she followed the sound to a small room adjunct to the kitchen. Looking from above, she could see it was a small toilet and shower, with no roof. Mark was there, naked, taking a shower. He had not noticed her peeping. She smiled roguishly and knelt to better ogle at her little man as he clearly enjoyed the hot water, eyes closed, unaware of her gaze.

She got her face as close as she dared so he did now see her. She unashamedly looked admiringly at his muscular limbs, tight butt, hard, hairy pecs and long blond hair… and of course at his drooping cock. He finally ended up his shower and got off to dry himself, only to find his towel missing. Puzzled, he looked around, and finally, laughing, up, at the giant, smirking face of his girlfriend, looking down adoringly, waving the towel a him, pinched between index and thumb.

“Of course… liked the view?” He said, smiling.

“I wish I’d be able to look closer… let me get you out of there so I can” answered Zava, throatily. Her free hand descended and pinched Mark, thumb on his chest, index on his back, and lifted him out of the little roofless room, setting him down on the floor and giving him his towel.

She then lay down on her belly, propping her chin on her hands, these on the floor, face very close to Mark as he dried himself in front of her steady gaze.

“If you like to watch so much, I’ve got a surprise for you, but, first let’s find you some clothes, Zav. Now in daylight we could be visited at any moment by strangers”. Said Mark, with a doting smile.

“All right…” she said, in mock annoyance. He’s right, of course. I’m going to have to be quite careful not to flash people now. I do not want the firsts pics of me to surface in newspapers to be upskirt close-ups of my camel-toed crotch or of a nipple peeking out of my top, magnified 100x in their little smartphone screens. She supposed wearing skirts or shorts in public was pretty much out of the question now, as any stray pubic (or armpit) hair was going to be easily noticed by the hi-res cameras of these little people. Well, more occasions for making Mark groom me more often, which I love.

Mark finished drying and walked to a chair in the kitchen where he had some of the same blue slacks she had seen so many people in the crowd using, a pair of black undies and a red T-shirt with a white apple with a bite taken out of it printed on the front. He donned all these and also put his feet in a pair of curious-looking rubber clogs. Then he kneeled to a large (for him) cardboard box near the chair, opened it and took out a triangle of dark red cloth, with strings trailing from it, offering it to Zava, who took it. It was a red thong.

“Hmmm… a little revealing, don’t you think?” Said Zava, pursing her lips.

“The clothes you brought are too filthy. And I’m afraid we’re going to have the same problem we had with getting me clothed in giantland, but in reverse, for a while”. Said Mark “I’m not exactly knowledgeable in fabrics, and finding any shop in the island or any vendor online that could quickly send us enough cloth for a proper dress for you I could not manage yesterday; most fabrics come only in 1x6 m rolls, far less than needed, and too thin, most of them. To you they would feel as flimsy as wet paper and tear just as easily… you’re too strong. And even if we could get big swaths of fabric of the proper thickness, stitching them up is going to be a problem. I think we can build you clothes from sails, and there are some places in the island for that, but I do not think they can be ready before the week and I have to visit them first on person to see if they are suitable… and even then, at first, we probably could only make you tunics. Eventually I could get some 3D scans of your body so a company in my hometown that makes fabric for blimps and air balloons could make you better fitting stuff, but that’s not going to happen quickly”.

“Uhhhh… I see” said Zava, eyeing the thong suspiciously.

“In the meantime, we’d better take measurements of your feet so sandals can be made, while you’re in quarantine”. Said Mark. “And we’ll have to trim your pubic hair a little closer, Zav, or I’m pretty sure some strands are going to show through even that fabric you’re holding”.

“Let’s do that”. Said Zava, blushing, as she lay on her back, lifting her legs in the air, displaying her ass to a gleeful Mar as she struggled to put the thong on. She had to tie a knot on the side of his hip, as it had no elastic. Getting dressed in a place where I can’t stand up is going to be uncomfortable, I just realized. Thought Zava, as she tried to put the garment on without kicking the walls, the ceiling, Mark or the other things lying around her.

He then passed her the top, of the same supple cloth, with a little padding inside, she thankfully noted, so her nipples did not show too much through. It tied at the front, zava noticed as she put it on. Once dressed, however scantily, Zava looked down at her crotch, and, with a groan, noticed more than a couple of rogue pubic hairs had shot through the fabric and if they were clearly visible to her, they would be too in the face for the little people.

Noticing Zava’s discomfort, Mark continued:

“But not everything is bad news, love. The quarantine is going to give us time for you to catch up in much-needed computer literacy and culture awareness that you’ll need to fit in and start on your way to financial and social independence”.

Mark was not sure if Zava was yet aware of the not negligible amount of information she would have to absorb to understand and make use of what mid-21 century Earth’s global culture had to offer to or required of Zava, a daunting task, Mark was very conscious of, as it was so much more complex than that of giantland. So many things were different! Just to start with, the day had 24 hours instead of 27, and Earth’s minutes, seconds and hours were off in duration from giantland’s, which tended to be longer. It of course meant that Earth’s days were shorter than Zava was used to. It followed from this that the duration of weeks, months and years also differed, as did the days’ and months names. Calendar year (in giantland it was now Layman year 343) was also a concept Zava was not used to. It was mind-blowing the amount of mental gymnastics needed to adapt to all this.

About the language, although the script of giantland (at least that of Zava’s state) was much like Earth’s, the fonts and typefaces used in giantland were so different as to be unrecognizable in some letters, and the spelling was more phonetic in giantland’s that on English, in a way eerily similar to Middle English.

Many idioms and slang, biblical, or even popular cultural references so ubiquitous in American conversational English, not to mention technical jargon, would be indecipherable to Zava at first, as would be mathematical notation and electronic symbols, these completely different and much more advanced on Earth, so catching up with her studies would be difficult. Temperature, weight, length, voltage, resistance, and other measurement units, etc., were also completely different. And there was also the issue of money, as for Zava, getting the feel of what was expensive or not would take a while, as she weaned out her mind of thinking of everything on lukass instead of dollars, now.

Many of these things, if not the equivalencies, Zava could figure out for herself by browsing the internet. She however had never used a computer or a browser. The PDA Mark had used in giantland was too small for Zava to read, and without access to micro circuitry, not yet invented in giantland, he could not project anything larger, so she had never any occasion to learn how to use it. He had explained some of the concepts, but theory and practice were two different things. Zava lacked the most basic computer literacy skills, such as knowing the terms or the right finger gestures for scrolling, zooming in or out, right-click or sustained tap, double tap (or click), selecting text, copy/cut/paste, file systems and formats, internet searches, hashtags, chatting, e-mail, social networks, swiping, word processing and spreadsheets, electronic maps, etc., etc., etc. For instance, he was not looking forward at her realizing that the many hours she spent learning to type by touch in the giantland keyboards of the typewriters they used in giantland were useless now, as the keyboard layout was wildly different from Earth’s.

The symbols for playing, recording, reversing videos, video and audio calls, virtual and enhanced reality conventions, as well as many other small precepts of computer interfaces everyone took for granted were unknown to her. She would be easy prey to internet scams, trolls and pervs, malware, etc., until she knew enough to steer clear. For instance, online shopping on her own would be out of the question for a while.

He was sure this formidable list was far from complete, as he surely had not even thought of many things that were now so obvious to him, as an engineer and someone that was born in the 21st century embedded in all of these things, that he took them for granted but would be completely, well, alien to an alien such as Zava, who came from a world where many of these concepts were not even dreamed of, yet.

Zava was fortunately, very smart, not easily discouraged and also of an engineering mindset, with a memory so good as to be almost eidetic, surprising Mark often, no doubt a result of her, well, large brain. And she had him, a decidedly tech-savy and educated, not to mention loving Earthling to guide her on her path to Earthlingdom and Americandom. Also, he grinned, she had now an unlimited data plan.

 “Sounds good” laughed Zava, “I hope we can keep lessons at less than 18 hours a day”. She said, wryly. “I need to eat, sleep, cavort and be cavorted, too”.

“I wish we could record what you just said, Zav” retorted Mark with a grin. “You’ll find this can be addictive… you’ll be talking a different tune in a few weeks, and I’m not strong enough to drag you away from the screen… but enough talk: let me show you!” Rubbing his hands dramatically, he then said:

“Mukira, are your ready?”.

To Zava’s astonishment, a pleasant female voice then responded:

“I’m ready, Mark, ask me anything”.

“Mukira, video online”. Replied Mark.

To Zava’s wonder, the blank, white wall in front of her suddenly changed to a video screen more than half as wide as she was tall. Inside there were a lot of what looked like picture frames, overlapping each other in a complex array. In some of them, video images were being played soundlessly. Others looked like color newspaper pages, text mixed with still pictures underlined or surrounded by strange symbols. Color everywhere, and the images were incredibly sharp and crisp, almost ready to pop out of the screen. Some others displayed what clearly were machinery blueprints. Others had pictures of women wearing different clothes, in a white background.

“You named the computer after my mother?”  Said Zava, laughing.

“Well, I thought you’d like to order her around, for a change”. Laughed Mark Back. “Speaking of which… Mukira, add user: Zava Casafus-Djacome”

Immediately the screen changed to a full-screen image of part of the hangar. The image started to rotate. Zava looked around and discovered what was undoubtedly a small camera mounted in a tripod at Mark’s height, swiveling around near the wall, below the screen. Suddenly the camera found Mark, as evidenced by his face now blown out to occupy the whole video screen, as she had never seen it. He looks so handsome! Gasped Zava. She could even see the stubble on his cheeks and chin, his eyelashes and details of his green irises, which she never could make out before. Small green rectangle outlines appeared overlapping on top of his eyes, nose and mouth, moving as he moved.

“Administrator identified: Mark Wilson” said Mukira. “voice authorization required”

“Authorized” said Mark. The camera started swiveling quickly around again and soon Zava’s face was filling now the screen, red rectangle outlines appeared now overlapping on her eyes, mouth and nose.

“Say your name, Zava, please”, requested Mark.

“Zava Casafus-Djacome” Complied a bemused Zava.

“Authorize new user, Zava Casafus-Djacome, Mark?”.

“Yes, Mukira, authorize Zava Casafus-Djacome, as normal user”  said Mark. The rectangles on Zava’s face changed to green. A chime could be heard. The former array of frames reappeared on the screen.

“Authorization complete. Hello Zava. Ask me Anything”.

“Call Betty Hamilton” Said Zava, tentatively.

A small rectangular frame appeared anew. On top of it a small circular, full color picture of Betty’s smiling face appeared. Below, three lines preceded by a small green icon of a telephone auricular appeared.

“Call home, work or messenger?” said Mukira.

“Cancel, cancel” Said Zava, who did not want to disturb Betty so early.

“Canceling voice call”. Said Mukira.

“Well done” Said Mark, admiringly.

“Oh Mark…. This is incredible!!! Is like we’re in those stories from the books we read!”

“Welcome to the Future, Mrs. Casafus-Wilson” Said Mark.

I like the sound of that!

“Thank you Mr. Wilson-Casafus, this is all so cool!! Why do you love me so much?? What did I ever did to deserve you?” Said Zava, crouching to Mark’s level and getting her face closer to kiss and snuggle her nose and cheeks against his body, pressing him against her with her hands.

“Just being you Zav.” Said Mark, hugging and kissing her back. Zava sat back, beaming. Mark pointed at the screen. “This, sweet Zava, is quite literally the world at your fingertips. Mukira is right, you can ask her ANYTHING you want to know, hear or see. And believe me when I mean anything. Nobody uses this term anymore, but to you, the Information SuperHighway, or internet, as we call it, is completely at your disposal. For instance:” Mark said:

“Mukira, search giant woman news video, today”

Immediately a frame appeared with multiple thumbnail-like images of Zava lined up in columns and rows with captions below appeared on screen. Mark gestured in the air and one of the frames blew up to cover the whole screen. The scene when Mark asked Zava to marry him, started playing, first with a wide angle shot of the whole lighthouse field with the gigantic Zava standing in the middle, holding the diminutive Mark in her hand, and then it changed to a close up of her face and hand with Mark on it. Somehow the video had captured even sound from the distance of Mark words, surely from the green van Mark had mentioned and remote transmission from his earpiece. More images from her taken from below and more shots of her walking through town followed, with commentary from the reporters.

I look enormous, monstrous, even, thought Zava, with a little dismay, seeing herself from the little people’s perspective like this for the first time… seen from below her shins and knees almost occupied the whole frame, as her chest obscured her very-far looking face, and in many shots, only her nostrils and chin being visible from below from her face. Her breasts wobbled visibly with each step. My hair has looked better and my feet are so dirty! The camera changed to views from behind, from the ground and some footage from the drones, also a new perspective to her, as even in the mirror she had never seen herself exactly from behind. My ass looks also kind of big in those pants, though. The images were detailed enough to show goosebumps on her thighs and arms and even dirt under her nails. More drone footage showed, she thought, gratuitously frequent shots of her thighs, rear and chest, including some rather explicit footage from above and the front when she crawled under the power lines. I was right, my tits were about to spill into the open when I crawled. Well, if they focused on THAT that much I think they liked it, I guess, monstrous ass or not. That reminds me… I liked Mark’s face closeup…. I wonder if…

“Mark, how could I see the closeup of your face again?”

“Mukira, zoom in on my face, full screen”. Immediately Mark’s smiling face appeared on the screen, filling it completely. “Hello Zav”

“Hello, dear…” Zava said with a predatory smile.  “What if I wanted to move the camera around?” Asked Zava.

“Just say the computer’s name and say scroll up, down or right, left”

“and for close-ups or getting farther from the object?”

“the words for that are zoom in to get closer, zoom out to get away”

“Mukira, scroll down”. Said Zava. Mark’s chin and neck appeared on the screen. “Scroll down. Scroll down. Scroll down.”

“I see where this is going… you’re really a one-track-mind girl, Zava, aren’t you” Laughed Mark.

 “Scroll down” Said Zava a fourth time. Mark’s crotch appeared in the screen. “Drop your pants” Zava ordered in a husky whisper, so as not to be overhead from outside.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that” Said Mukira. Zava rolled her eyes, chortling. Mark burst into laughter, but needed not be asked twice, he knew the prospects were promising for him and quickly stepped out of his pants. Mark’s naked, still limp cock was now on the center of the screen. “Zoom in…” Said Zava, predictably, as Mark’s member started to spring to life, swelling now that he knew she was staring at it, foreskin starting to withdraw. Zava gaped at the screen, now filled with her boyfriend’s manhood in enthralling detail, both contracting balls, every hair on sight, every fold now unfolding and every throbbing vein clearly showing. She licked her lips as she sat on the ground. Oh my gods, I’m liking this futuristic stuff more and more.

“Oh Mark, this is so fucking hot… you’re so fucking hot…” she gasped as she gazed at her lover’s stiff manhood starting to ooze, enlarged in the screen as she never had seen it… it was like seeing it for the first time.

Zava was sitting on the ground, facing the screen, back leaning slightly backwards. Her ass and hands were on the floor, legs spread and bent at the knees, her feet planted on the ground. Her body was noticeably, quaking with need. Mark was actually to her left. Mark contracted the muscles of the base of his penis, making it twitch visibly on screen, eliciting a  hoarse moan out of her that she was barely able to turn into a grunt, left hand moving unbidden to knead at her right breast… She started to breathe heavily, gritting her teeth.

“Grab the camera, babe” she muttered to Mark. “and come closer… closer…” I want to see you at work in my cunt, up close.

Mark walked under one of her arched legs, resisting the temptation to look backwards, legs trembling with desire, his penis throbbing with the almost irresistible urge to stick it into any of Zava’s moist cavities… he approached the wall where the video beam he had prepared was projecting and under which the camera was on the tripod. He took it and turned towards Zava, walking towards her crotch, veiled by the wine-colored triangle of cloth.

As soon as Zava saw his tiny lover facing her, her right hand descended and pulled her loincloth aside, revealing her sex to Mark. Her index finger deftly pressed and pulled at the skin above her clitoris, making it stand out, as it was already distended and palpitating: it sunk into and stuck out of her pink fleshy folds in rhythm with her pulse, he guessed.

“I want to see you suck my clit…” Zava purred.  “show me…. show me”.

Mark did not need to be told twice. He approached her slit and ran one hand on her pubic hairs teasingly as he put himself into position…. making her hips rear forward, longing to squeeze his body against her folds. Ohhh I love those little hands… get to work you little stud...

He could sense the womanly musk of her pussy almost like a physical cloud he was reclining against. He knew that scent… it was the scent of his woman, the scent of his Zava, and he loved it. He turned his open lips against her thumping knob, wet, tongue already extended and hungry,  as, with his free hand, he turned the camera towards his mouth before it made contact.

Zava’s eyes turned reluctantly from between her legs, where his lover was about to go to town on her, towards the screen before her. In a succession of quick images, as Mark got near ner, first she saw her gigantic fingertip pressing at her pliant folds near Mark, almost as big as his head… she heard the scraping sounds of Mark’s hands as she saw him claw at her thick, wiry pubes, and then…

She saw his face from the side, eyes closed, mouth open almost to the point of dislocation, his tongue extended as far as it would go, as her throbbing clit was shown in gigantic proportions, magnified as she had never seen it projected on the wall. Then, she felt his sweltering little maw land on her more sensitive spot.

“Ahhh…. Ahhhh… AHHHH!!!!… oh Mark, this is soooo sexy……. UnggggghhhhHHHHH!!!” Was all she was able to mutter as he sucked all of her clit into his wet, delicious, skilled mouth, sucking it as if it was a ripe peach, licking it avidly with his strong, twirling tongue, and she could see it all up close happening in front of her on the screen: her fleshy nub disappearing inside his lover’s mouth, his tongue sliding in and out of his mouth as she saw it slithering wetly and quickly over her clit. She saw and she felt everything at the same time, sensations overwhelming, mind-numbingly good…. Reason slipping away into oblivion, replaced by a untamed need to be satisfied… she just wished she was able to see his cock at the same time she was being licked… she needed to squeeze it on her fingertips… she needed to feel it in her mouth… in her slit, spurting out his hot milk where she could feel it, taste it....  her hand left her clit, as it was already bloated enough not to need any coaxing it out of her folds. Instead, she delicately put her mid-finger pad on the back of Mark’s head, pressing him, urging him to continue.

“Eat me mark, eat me… ohhh… you feel so good down there in my cunt….”

Untiring, Mark kept upping up the pace, driving her towards the brink, her hips buckling as her free hand covered her mouth to prevent the wails of incontrollable pleasure escaping the walls of their improvised home into the wrong ears. Her eyes were wide open, unable to tear themselves from the images of her tiny man eating her alive, images of her finger on the back of his head ruffling his hair, making his face sink into her velvety flesh… suddenly, as he licked her, Mark opened his eyes and looked straight at the camera… at Zava’s eyes. It was the last straw.

“UrghhhHHHH….. YESSSSSSS!” SohotSohotSohotSohot……

She took his finger off Mark, as she was overcome by the urge to push him into her oozing hole, but she knew she was so out of control that she would break him. Closing her eyes, an orgasm that felt more like an electrical shock exploded from her crotch, sweeping her insides with a tsunami of pleasure that turned her legs to water. As she looked at the screen, she saw her swollen, palpitating folds filling the whole screen from side to side, a pool of  overflowing juices pooling on the floor directly below her sex. Suddenly the screen turned off.

She turned her eyes toward her crotch only to see Mark on her knees, trembling, camera discarded beside him. He was in a position of almost worship. He went to all fours and approached her hole, eager, she saw, to wriggle into it, to disappear inside the deep creases of her wetly discharging sex, maddened by desire as she was, if not more. I want to see you do it. I want to feel you squirm inside me… He spared a glance up, beyond her cunt, beyond her breasts, and seeing the approval in her dark eyes, he crawled forward, until she could not see his head under her folds. She closed her eyes.

Then she felt his tiny, scorching hands grasp at the muscular ring at the entrance of her vagina, and his body started to worm his way inside her on his own, without any help on her part. She felt more and more of him sliding soggily, slowly into her welcoming insides, until he stopped advancing. Her fingers glided toward her crevice, feeling now only his tiny feet remaining outside her.

With some effort, as his feet were now also thoroughly coated in her juices, she grasped at his ankles and pulled him slowly out, relishing the friction of his hard body sliding inside her, and then she pushed him in and pulled him out a few times, before sliding him out completely, before he suffocated inside her.

She released his feet, and looked down at his panting little frame, coated in her juices, his hands clearing his mouth and nose of her womanly slime, but eyes still eager, still to be satisfied. He wanted more of her.

She then lifted herself of the floor to a crouching position, her palms and soles in contact with the floor, as Mark positioned himself below her, standing directly below her sex. They had done this before… both loved it.

Zava started lowering herself until she felt the hands and arms of his tiny lover sliding up into her pussy. She kept lowering herself as she felt his head enter her, his wide shoulders making a nice bump against her entrance. Then his chest, his waist… her right hand moved to feel at his ankles to prevent his body from being lifted from the ground by her sucking cunt. Then she pushed herself out of him adroitly until again only his arms, stretched upwards, remained inside her, and then she lowered herself again. she could hear him panting urgently, moaning inside her, and the wet, slurping sounds of her cunt sliding over his body, thanks to her earpiece.

She deftly repeated this movement, again and again… as she felt her climax rising again inside, she pushed down herself all the way, until only his legs remained outside of her, and then took her supporting hand off Mark’s legs to support herself on the ground, lifting herself a little from the floor so he was supported by her hole, hoisted off the ground. He feels sooo good filling me… Squatting there, both hands and feet on the ground, she relished the feeling of his body squirming inside her, sliding slowly out of her as her building orgasmic contractions pushed him out.

“Zava… my sweet, delicious goddess…. Oh how I love your pussy” she heard him moan…. Talking from inside her… his torso was still inside her as he said this… Hearing his lover talk to her while being plunged into her depths made her cunt spasm, spitting him out in a sopping heap below her. She groaned in her last, lingering orgasm… she lowered herself, pressing her folds softly into her lover’s prone form, his arms sliding lovingly on her flapping, quivering labia.

When she came to herself, Mark was picked up from below her by her strong fingers by his armpits, his erection still in place, and he found himself in front of one of Zava’s eyes. It focused alternatively on his face and on his crotch, blinking slowly as she took his body in. He could see her pupil focusing and lingering between his legs. She got him closer to her eye, closing it and tickling his prick with her eyelashes by moving his midsection delicately sideways against them.

She then lowered him to her right breast, now spilling out of her bra cup, pushed aside. Her left hand was pressing at her tip, making her nipple stand out even more, as she tickled his manhood with her nipple (or was it the other way around?), slapping it and rubbing it delicately against her in a sort of tender swordplay, her face intent above him, biting her lip, until his milk shot out of him splashing her areola. Eyes closed, Mark could feel Zava’s satisfied sigh ruffling his hair as she kept stroking his throbbing, depleted cock against her nipple.

Of course, afterwards, Mark was a mess, and had to take a bath again. It was his third bath in less than 12 hours, so he wanted to be quick. Before entering the shower, he recovered the camera, set it anew on its tripod and turned on the hose (the opening mechanism was too small for Zava’s fingers) and left Zava with a keg of shampoo and another of his surprise gifts: a comb he managed to get 3D printed and had been delivered last night. The last sight of her he got before entering the small bathroom, without closing the door, was Zava’s shapely backside as she sat on the ground to get her hair wet in preparation for her shampoo.

When he got out of the bathroom, she was still much engrossed in her toilette with her back to him, so he got dressed, smiling to see Zava had draped her improvised bikini on the same chair where she had put his clothes on top of (it looks like she even tried to fold them but could not manage it, they were to small) and went on to prepare her breakfast. He saw also that she had found and used the new plastic funnel for her Number Ones he had brought in the pickup last night. It was now propped in the farthest corner of the hangar.

“Ok, Mark I’m as ready as I’m going to get…” finally said Zava, almost whispering, self-conscious of the thin (to her walls). Mark went near the hose to close it. Zava had also taken advantage of the video screen, using it as a mirror to comb her hair and clear the snarls with her new comb.

When she turned, she saw Mark had prepared her a wooden barrel filled with some pink, seemingly fluffy fruits, another barrel of a darkly frothing, steaming brew, which thankfully did not seem to be that ghastly ‘kophee’, judging by the way its smell made Zava’s mouth water, and other two barrels, one filled with yellow flakes and a last one filled with long, white-mottled, red sausages as thick as Mark’s arm, and about 2 inches (to her) long.

“Mukira, video online. I want to see a clock, please”, said Zava, groaning as the computer initialized video on the wall again… but produced a frame with a round clock complete with hands (although she did not know they were called that) and all, but that she could not read, as she never had seen one like it ever.

“Mukira, digital clock, please”, said Mark, laughing as he neared the barrels. “A lesson for another day, I see”.

“I take it 12 would be midday?” Said Zava, seeing that it was 8:27 AM.

“Yes. We are now in the fall season (called that because the leaves start falling off most trees)”. Clarified Mark for her benefit.  ”Sun rises at about 7:20 AM and sets at about 5:40 PM”. Each hour has 60 minutes, each minute 60 seconds… an hour here is about 27 of your minutes, I think”.

“Getting used to that will be difficult… By the way, what year is it, on your, I mean, America’s reckoning?”

“2035”, said Mark. “this calendar is in use by most countries by now”.

 “Uf! After all those years, it is quite logical. Well, let’s leave the lessons for after our breakfast… I’m starving! We were so busy last night that I even forgot about dinner, imagine that!” laughed Zava, mischievously. “I think I had never skipped dinner before in my life!! Tell me what you got me, love”

Mark beamed.

“Well, Zava, I got you a barrel full of fresh season apricots picked right here on the island”, he said, pointing at the fruits. “A barrel of warm chocolate, I heated it with a portable electric heater inside the barrel, I hope is not too tepid for you, I know you hate too-hot drinks, a barrel of potato (a tuber) fried slices, and the sausages are called Salami.”

“Everything looks delicious… can I…I mean, we eat now??” Said Zava, eagerly eyeing the food.

“Of course!!!” Just let me take a couple of apricots…” Said Mark, doing so. Zava first took the chocolate and tried it.

Ohhh… this tastes so good!!! Thought Zava, approvingly, happily chugging the drink.

“How is it?” Asked a slightly anxious Mark.

“You definitely know me better than anyone, dear… it’s delicious!!”

“I hope all this is enough, I had the impression they did not gave you enough food yesterday”.

“Can’t blame them, though, it must be hard guessing how much someone my size can eat”, Said Zava, picking some salami. “ Huy… this tastes good too… “Oh Mark, I could get used to being pampered like this, you know”.

“Well, you pampered me quite a bit last year, you had to cook for me every day, it’s not like I could cook you anything in giantland, you know that… I could not even do the dishes afterwards”.

“Well, your little plate and pitcher was not exactly too difficult to wash… and you eat so little” Which reminds me… “Mark, how much this all cost?, I mean, only the breakfast, I see a lot of things lined up against the wall… It must have cost you a small fortune!” Said Zava, as she kept depleting the pastrami barrel and tried the potato chips as well. I was definitely famished…

“Don’t fret about it now, Zav.  And actually, Betty paid for all this, I cannot access my accounts till tomorrow (I hope) when I go to the bank in person, which is when I plan to refund all this to her. Today I will spend with you”.

“Humor me, dear… I know I do not know the price of things in…”

“Dollars”

“Dollars, yet, but please tell me a similar and proportional meal, bought in ‘giantland’ would have cost, how much?”

“The breakfast alone was about 2 thousand bucks, dollars, I mean, more or less 6000 lukass, is my best guess”. Said Mark, reluctantly. “Actually, had we been in my hometown, it could have topped 3 thousand, easy”

OH.MY.GODS!!!! I’m going to eat my way into Mark’s bankruptcy at this rate!!!! She was losing her appetite…

“Holy shit!!!  Going like this, I think we would have depleted our whole savings in less than a week!” she refrained to add the words ‘back home’. Home is where Mark and I are together, she thought, emphatically to herself.

“Well, Zava, I am fairly well off here on Earth, thankfully, even near to what you would call a millionaire. I cannot check now, but I’m guessing after all this time my savings must have grown with interest rates and the digital currency mining I do… and of course I’ll have to sell my house, we obviously cannot live there together, but I know what you’re thinking, Zav. It’s going to be expensive. It’s not only the food and clothes, medical care will be needed at some point for you, that’s for sure, and in this country, THAT is not cheap. Insurance, the housing and plumbing we’ll need to build for your needs... things we’ll have to fabricate…”.

Zava almost dropped the apricot barrel she was holding, as the implications dawned on her.

“Oh Mark… I’m so sorry… what are we going to do?  I’m going to be the ruin of you!” I wish we could have known this would happen, I guess my jewelry would fetch a pretty price here on Earth…

“Never say that! I’m happy we’re together Zava!” Said Mark, firmly. “I shudder to think what I would have done with my life had I found out I was transported here alone!! Or even worse, if I had been left behind!!! Thank god you came along too!”.

“Me too! But I shudder at the costs! I rather think I’m the punishment the Goddess put on you, love…”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember what I told you about entering a place forbidden for men?“

“Are you serious? I never thought you were religious!”

“Never been, but… I don’t know, Mark! What explanation can you offer of how we made it here? It’s fairly specific, don’t you think, that we both ended here in YOUR country… why not another planet? Or even space, to suffocate and burst like overcooked sausages in the void? And the thing happened as I made you come… it started right after that!” Zava said at her normal voice tone, forgetting for a moment that they could be  heard from outside. Before, she had been talking as she used to talk to Mark, in a subdued tone, but now she had reverted to her ‘normal’ tone, the one she used to talk to people her own size. She could see Mark had thought about the strange event, too, in his face, but failed to notice how he cringed from her too-loud voice.

“It wasn’t that specific” said Mark. “We could have landed in L.A., I mean, Los Angeles in the front of my apartment… now THAT would have convinced me”. But she could see the doubt in his eyes… he knew too how eerie it was to have appeared on Earth. She was convinced it was no coincidence.

“It could be part of the punishment, dear. I’m guessing I’ll have to walk there as well… how far is it?”

“About 250 of your miles” Said Mark, too quickly, which told Zava he had also given the matter some consideration, much more than Zava, knowing his attention to detail, and, after all, it was his turf, as he had said. “I think it’ll take us at least a week to get there”. If I’m ever allowed to. The pessimistic thought crept into Zava’s mind.

“Getting there will be costly, too, it’d be my guess” Zava mused.

“And how do you suggest we atone for our sin?” Said Mark, annoyance creeping into his tone. “Do you really think anything we do will send us magically back to giantland?”

“I don’t’ know!”, she exclaimed. This time Zava, taken aback, noticed she had talked too loudly, as Mark, wide eyed, gave an involuntary step back, his back stumbling against the still half full potato chip barrel. No…no… don’t be afraid of me, please… my sweet Mark. Does he really think I would hurt him? Zava thought, with a surprisingly intense pang of grief.

“Are we going to really fight over this, Zav?” Said Mark, hurt plain in his voice, eyes looking pleadingly into hers.

“No, we’re not” Zava said, placated, as she extended, unthinking, her hand to grab him, and was relieved when he stepped forward, walking eagerly towards her hand, and stopping between her outstretched fingers, laying his left arm on her index finger, ready to be grasped. What would I have done, just now, if I had tried to touch you and I had seen you cower, fear of me in your eyes? I really do not think I could have endured it, my dear little Mark. If that happened, I would have known I was truly being punished… I would have known I had, beyond doubt, landed in hell…

But as she held, with just her fingertips, the supple but firm body of her little fiancée, and lifted him to her face, the familiar, simple but very pleasant sensation of his warm little body squirming between her fingers, reassured her that everything was well, as he grabbed her fingers in turn, adoringly, smiling sheepishly up at her.

“Don’t ever be afraid of me Mark, it’d break my heart if you were”. Said Zava, as she tenderly deposited a kiss on his whole face, before lifting him to eye level, and caressing him with her other hand’s fingers.

“I’m not afraid, but being told off and glared at by a giant woman is not something a man can easily be accustomed to, I think” Laughed Mark, leaning contentedly against her stroking fingertips.

“I did not glare!” Said Zava in mock indignation.

“I got it all in video, I’m afraid”

“You do??!” Said Zava, shocked.

“Just kidding” Said Mark, delighted at seeing her credulous face. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you either. I could never be mad at a naked, sexy woman!” he looked down at her meaningfully.

“Oh, yes!!!  I forgot to dress!” Said Zava, lowering him to the ground and reaching for her makeshift bikini. I keep forgetting any of these little people could walk in here at any moment and see my naked ass…. And other things… out in the open!!!  Zava started to dress, noticing the delighted look in Mark’s face at seeing  her struggles to get dressed in the  relatively confined space, which doubtlessly offered him a view of quivering parts he was very glad to be seeing.

“Sorry for ruining the breakfast!” Said Zava, subdued, while she tied her top, the bottom already in place. I’ve got an idea to make you forget this ridiculous quarrel, you’ll see. But a little later when you least expect it… hehhehheh, thought Zava impishly, but trying to keep her poker face, as Mark called it.

“Are you finished, really?”  Said Mark, surprised.

“No…” admitted Zava, eyeballing the still abundant remains of the breakfast… she extended her hand towards them.

“That’s what I thought”. Said Mark. “Anyway, you have always been very thrifty, dear, and as soon as you adapt a little you’ll be in charge of more money matters, anyway. I have to be honest, though, I WILL need your help to support you, eventually. We’re not going to spend the rest of our lives (hopefully) living on a rented hangar, taking baths from a fire hose, eating off kegs… and you cannot keep sleeping in the floor, either”. Zava was now munching blissfully at the fruit, looking adoringly at her little man. Mark noticed she chewed the apricots whole, several at a time, actually, kernels and all, her strong teeth gnashing into paste them with no trouble at all. “We did not have time to put the mat last night. Aren’t you sore, really?” Said Mark, Inquiringly.

“I was, yesterday, at the field. I thought my ass was going to fall off… the ground was too hard and too cold”.

“And this cement floor was not?”

“I’m looking forward to deploying the mat tonight, of course, but I felt so rested, so comfortable when I woke up this morning that I did not think of it; maybe the heaters helped. Anyways, Since we reunited, actually, I’ve felt so much better. At first, when I first came to myself, the stronger gravity was such a burden, but today I don’t feel any different than in my world. In fact, I doubt I’ve ever felt so strong, so good! Even colors seem to be brighter, somehow, not to mention flavors. I hardly notice these gravity shackles anymore, even, only because they sometimes get warm when I move them” Finished Zava, shaking her hand freely, shackle wobbling.

“If you agree, we need to continue the computer lessons”

“I do agree” Said Zava. She was about to finish, actually, now she suspected she would not be able to finish the whole potato barrel. “What’s next?”

“Well, you now got the basics of controlling the computer with your voice, but that is not practical in most situations. For more complex and fine control, we’ll have to learn how to use keyboards and pointing devices”.

“Before we continue, where exactly is the computer” Inquired Zava. “It is not in the camera, I suppose”.

“See that tablet lying on the kitchen counter, plugged to the wall outlet with the white cable?”

“It looks like that PDA you had, but larger”. Said Zava.

“That’s the computer”.

“And how are we seeing the images in the wall?”

“I mounted a video beam in one of the trusses of the ceiling. It projects images from the tablet into the wall. The camera is connected wirelessly to the tablet, feeding video into it, and the tablet, in turn, connected wirelessly to the video beam, projects it into the wall through the video beam, mirroring what’s on the tablet’s screen”.

“And the little frames on the screen, like the clock and the images, text and videos?”

“Those are applications, each running a different task; Each frame is a different one”.

“And where is the keyboard?”

“It is a virtual keyboard” it does not really exist, physically, or with the voice but you can invoke it with predetermined gestures or by voice. You’ll learn both. Mukira, keyboard on”

Immediately, a giant (to Mark) QWERTY keyboard appeared in the floor in front of Zava. It was only illuminated letters and numbers, projected in the ground. To the right of the keyboard, there was a 1 meter wide circle.

“I see I’ll have to learn to type all over again.” Groaned Zava, as she saw the keys much differently arranged that she was used to. But there was no point in asking Mark to make it like the one back in giantland’s typewriters.

“And that circle is the mouse, or trackpad…” 

The lesson continued, Zava realizing more and more the long, but very interesting and no doubt very rewarding road ahead of her…

****

A little past midday, somebody knocked on the door, and Mark walked to it, opening one of the rolling doors to receive additional kegs of food, which Mark entered one by one. Finally, he entered three more rolling crates, and took the (mostly) empty barrels of food outside.

Oohhhhhh… what is that smell??  Zava’s mouth watered anew as a very nice warm food smell came wafting all the way to where Zava was, at the other end of the Hangar.

Zava was kind of cowering back there, covering her breasts with one arm and her crotch with another, Mark noticed, covering herself against the prying looks of strangers, self-consciously.  Despite her large size, she was looking very vulnerable, eyes very wide trying to see if anyone was peeking at her from the door, lips tight, her shoulders hunched, very much unlike her usual cheery demeanor. OK, thought Mark, as he closed the door: getting her properly dressed just made it to the top of the list. Will get that 3D scanner here tomorrow…

“Lunch time already?” Said Zava, crawling towards Mark in all fours to help him with the crates, picking them easily and hoisting them from one hand to the other, easily setting them in the side of the hangar where she had slept.

“It’s nice to have my own portable crane” laughed Mark, catching up with a beaming Zava, now kneeling.

“What are you now going to treat me now with, baby?” said Zava.

“Two of the things I’ve missed the most from Earth. The first is…” Mark said opening the steaming crate to reveal… “Pizza!” he slid several flat cardboard boxes and passed them to Zava, who saw that is was a kind of flat bread covered with melting cheese, bits of sausages and other toppings she could not identify”

“Ohhh it looks as delicious as it smells!”

“And some coca-cola to go with it”, said Mark, opening one of the kegs, with a bubbling liquid, evidently some kind of soda. Zava started opening the boxes and eating them, and then she tried the coke.

“I did not know I was this hungry…. Mmm” said Zava, as before, making short work of the food. “Dear, hate to be the wet blanket but if we keep eating this every day, I’ll not fit through that door at the end of the quarantine…”

“Of course we can’t eat these things every day” Laughed Mark, “but I’m afraid getting proper, healthier food for you takes time, dear devourer, and we don’t have a freezer that can keep up with your needs around I’m afraid. I’ll have to go shopping every day for you, until I get acquainted with the local shops and can order the stuff brought to our doorstep. Just wanted you to relax today with me, and I like the chance to show you some of the good things Earth’s cuisine has to offer”.

While they ate, Mark played some videos for her on the screen, showing her cities, landscapes and people of Earth. He showed her also some street scenes of L.A., as well, where he hoped to take her as soon as he could… and as soon as they let him. Many movie stars and celebrities lived there, said Mark.

Zava, on her part, was delighted with the very crisp images and sounds playing on the screen, and all the people! Looking at such sharp images is like being there! Thought an astonished Zava. It’s mindboggling to think that if Mark were to step into any of the scenes we’re watching nobody would bat an eye at him… well, maybe the women would, he’s so handsome… but if I were to appear there, people would probably scatter, screaming in a panic… all these people in these videos… every one of them… even the President Mark mentioned, would fit in the palm of my hand… and other places, too! I can never enter any of the rooms or houses I’m seeing, only peek from outside of the windows, perhaps… same with cars and planes, which means I will have to walk everywhere, too… And, I’m probably the strongest woman, no, make it the strongest person or being, likely, on Earth.

“What’s in that last keg?” Said the observant Zava, as the pizzas were drawing to an end, and noticing Mark had avoided mentioning it.

“The third thing I’d like you to try: ice cream! Even got a nice new shovel for you to eat it with”

Zava laughed. Before Mark zoomed the videos to full screen, she had noticed the background image on the screen was the self-portrait he took of them at the field with his phone. They both were smiling happily in the pic, lit by the sun, seemingly without a care in the world.

 At least for today, I can pretend I’m in heaven along with my handsome, if small guardian angel. A very expensive paradise, though, this is turning out to be.

After 5 o’clock, Zava started getting anxious, although she tried to hide it from Mark, almost succeeding. She glanced often at the little digital clock in a corner of the screen, and the movement of Zava’s eyes, being as big as they were, could not help to be noticed by him each time she tried, unobtrusively, to look at the time, as they continued the computer lessons, uninterrupted except for a few calls Mark had made at intervals in the evening.

As always, when she was with Mark, she was very happy, and they were even happier when they could do things they enjoyed together, as with the fabrication projects they had started to earn some money back in giantland, ultimately succeeding with the typewriter projector (screen, as Mark called it), and the columns they wrote together.

On the technical side, Zava had learned a lot from Mark, who was very knowledgeable, of course, in building electronic stuff, as he was an engineer. But Zava, as the readers may have noticed, had very fine motor skills, and her fingers were very clever. She learned fast, had an excellent memory and she loved building things, just like Mark.

The columns they wrote were also dictated mostly by Mark, at least the technical content, but as she was quite witty and, of course, knew the right idioms and expressions of her culture to inject humor and a very conversational, easy to read style into their articles, that, Mark knew, were the perfect ingredient to the unusual content Mark could provide, but without Zava’s input, it would have been too dry and too disconnected from the target readers to really stand a chance of ever reaching a dedicated readership as the one they had been building.

Mark knew she had discovered she liked writing and she would miss writing her columns, which, as most of her life, would have to be abandoned, making him a little sad that all the effort of renting a new place for themselves, the half-built projects they had left in their little workshop, the furniture, Zava’s clothes and jewelry, and the pics he had taken of her in his PDA would perhaps be completely lost, unless Zava’s parents found them, he guessed.

Fortunately, there was very little identifiable by any giant as to be a sign of little people’s presence. His PDA for instance, by the time it was found, would perhaps be completely discharged in Zava’s backpack, and would be only an unidentifiable and inoperable little lump of metal and plastic he doubted anyone could make heads or tails of. And of course, there were no clothes left, and the ponchos were not exactly remarkable. He knew the ‘spreader’ would be even more of a puzzle.

If he thought that Zava would at first notice the days were noticeably shorter on Earth than she was used to, he would have been right. Zava was so happy to be able to spend time with Mark on that day, that she did not want it to end, and the too-short Earth hours raced by, and soon it was dark. She knew Mark would have to leave her alone a good part of the following day to prepare more things for her. She was not afraid of being left alone, but she had the lingering concern from the days in her world of being separated from Mark in case something happened to him.

I have to remind myself that Mark is not really in danger now, not more than I was back in my world, barring any accidents, that could always happen, anyway. As for me, I have nothing to fear from most people in this world, as there is no way any of these little men one by one or a party of them can force themselves on me and I of course cannot not be mugged by anyone: I do not have to fear even mobs of people or being ran over by a car. I only have to fear upsetting the military, as they could hurt me, but I have no desire to confront them. But she still hated to part from Mark, even for a few hours although of course there was no helping it.

At seven PM finally Mark said that it was dinner time, but Zava was still not hungry enough to warrant eating dinner, she said, so Mark just took a bite out of some apricots and decided to end the lessons and declare recess for the rest of the day.

“Mark…” she said, sitting cross-legged watching contentedly at Mark eating his apricots while sitting on Zava’s thigh, as they watched more videos.

“Tell me, babe”.

“I know it’s silly, but I wish I could go shopping with you tomorrow”.

“You could, after a fashion” Replied Mark.

“Don’t tease me… we know I can’t leave this building until at least a month from now” Said Zava, a little sullenly. And I do not think on day the 31st I will be allowed to stroll through town with you in my cleavage, either… much less head to ‘LA’ immediately.

“Not entirely accurate. In mid-evening Dr. Poole texted me saying that you need to have some at least 30 min of sunlight each day, to take care of your bones. It’s up to you, though, if you’d like to stay inside…”

“I can go out!!! Great!!!”

“Of course, during the day, you can only be in the immediate vicinity of the hangar, in the perimeter they have set for the quarantine. And, after 8 PM, I have been told that as this airport does not operate at night, you’ll be given leave to jog on the runway, as you need exercise as well to adapt your circulatory system and bones to Earth’s gravity and your lungs to our atmosphere; just remember to use the face mask”.

“Can I take you with me jogging?” Said Zava, face luminous.

“As we used to, of course!”

“Awesome! “ Said Zava… but wait… “But… I can’t go running in a bikini in front of everyone (just imagine my tits bouncing all over the place, I will need a sports bra for that!), and barefoot at that, or do you have any less skimpy outfits in those crates for me?”

“Not really, that, as I said, will need a little more time, which is why I managed to arrange a 3D scan of your body for tomorrow so we can get more clothes made for you soon. You’ll need to be standing outside for that, first thing in the morning as soon as there is enough sunlight for the technician to work with. They will work from a distance with a drone, so no need to breach the quarantine”.

“I’ll have to be outside posing in a thong??” She exclaimed, in dismay… Zava’s arm moved on its own to cover her breasts as she said this.

“Better than naked, and we’ll need to have the fit right the first time… and we’ll need to do this only once”.

I’m sure those soldiers will not want to miss the show I will be giving them… thought a resigned Zava. I’m sure the TV cameras will be around filming every second… with those long lenses from afar… Fuck…

“I still do not see how any of these scenarios will let me accompany you in your trip to town” Said an annoyed Zava.

“They won’t. But you can phone me or text me at any time, as I will be having my cell with me, of course”.

“Oh! That’s right!!!” Said Zava, for which the ‘always online’ culture was something new  “And you can send me pics and video, we can even video-chat!... and I can send you pics as well”, said Zava, taking her arm off from covering her bosom, artfully sliding her fingers meaningfully over the swell of her breast as the arm returned to her side, with a sultry spark on her eyes looking down at him, that made Mark almost choke with the fruit he was eating. Holy fuck she was hot…

“Yeah… about that…” Said Mark, unsure of how to breach the subject

“Any objection??” Said Zava in mock indignation, pushing her abundant chest forward meaningfully.

“Not me, dear seductress… and I’m pretty sure the government boys and girls listening to every conversation, reading every chat and seeing every pic we send to each other wouldn’t complain, either”.

What the! Zava’s jaw dropped in sudden comprehension. She reddened all the way to her ears and tummy. Mark saw her reaction and grimaced.

“D… do you think they are listening right now?” And earlier???!!?! Last night!??? This morning????!

“I’d be very surprised if they weren’t” Said Mark with a shrug. “you’re an alien and I’m married to one, of course they will be listening, it is what they do”

“Oh… no!” Said Zava covering her eyes… “how embarrassing! why didn’t you tell me anything before… wait… can’t you prevent it?”. Ended Zava hopefully.

“Oh yeah!” Said Mark. “Not easy, but doable”

“Excellent!”

“But I won’t” said Mark.

“Why the fuck not??” Said a now clearly aggravated Zava, who nevertheless, or perhaps because of her newfound knowledge managed to keep her voice low, knowing Mark had his reasons… probably…

“Because if we try to they WILL find out, be sure of that, sweet Zava, that’s the easiest way we can give them an excuse to separate us” Mark did not elaborate further, looking up at her, clearly wanting her to make the necessary leap in thought.

Zava’s indignation stopped right in its tracks. They’d think we would have something to hide… maybe even secret plans. That’s what the SID would think… they persecuted the little people even thought they were truly puny and helpless… but it’s what they do… She straightened, looking fiercely at Mark. I have been so happy to have him back that I did not think, did not allow myself to think on the price we’ll have to pay. But fuck it, and fuck them, fuck anyone…pay it I will.

“Well…” Said Zava after a pause, smiling wolfishly…. “I don’t give a fuck”. I’ll not stop living because some little guys are peeping. Let them peep if they want! I have nothing to fear from them. I will enjoy life with my Mark, because I do not know how long will I be allowed to keep him, as this teleporting thing made more than abundantly clear. He’s mine and that’s all I care about. And I’m his.

She reached for him and lifted him to her face, pressing him against her nose and cheekbones softy, as she closed her eyes. She wanted to be sure he knew she was not mad at him. Zava felt on her skin his spidery caresses with his incredible soft fingers, his incredibly soft kisses on her closed eyelids.

“The price for being a celebrity as you, or being the spouse of one, as I am, is the loss of privacy” whispered Mark to a purring Zava. “You will be the most photographed, filmed and talked about person in history soon, I’m sure. I have accepted that. That will not stop me from giving you everything I’ve got”.

“Nor me, Mark”.  Be sure of that, my dear, little beloved. And I have lots to give.

****

Afterwards, Zava helped Mark deploy the mattress, or more a series of thick, synthetic mats that could be easily be assembled to form a kind of thick, purple turf, a little over an inch thick (to Zava), covering one side of the hangar. Zava tested it and found it not unlike the footprint of her camping tent, not as comfortable as her bed, but noticeably better than the stark cement floor. A series of big (to Mark) inflatable cushions only half inflated, served as her pillows. She gratefully lay on it, a contented Mark following the very nice spectacle of his fiancée’s shapely ass rolling around in the mattress while he set up the heaters, which he nevertheless had fitted with large sliding dials so Zava could operate them herself if needed.

“All aboard!”  Joked Zava, as she made herself comfortable to look at the screen and extended an arm, palm up, clearly inviting him to climb her. He delighted on the feeling of his little bare feet hopping on her palm and walking up her arm carefully, until he got to her chest.

He playfully started to tug at the knot on her top.

“The other one first” cooed Zava. Mark continued down her body, covering the surprisingly long distance between her chest and her hips, with the thrilling sensation of Zava’s warm and thick but very supple skin under his feet.  When he was below her bellybutton, midway between it and her crotch, he kneeled and ran his hands on her skin….

“Ohhhh… “ purred Zava.

Mark lay down on her lower belly, inhaling the scent of her skin, kissing her, running his fingertips, giving her goosebumps, on the almost invisible (to Zava) hairs there, getting progressively visible and stiffer southwards. The abdomen under her started to heave noticeably. He got up and walked until he was in the triangle of cloth of her bikini bottom, feeling the spongy texture her trimmed pubes under the fabric. 

Then he moved to the side of the bottom with the knot, to her right hip and untied it, tugging at the necessary strands. Then he lifted the other in his hand and walked leftwards on her lower tummy, sliding the cloth off her crotch. He uncovered it, and walked over her pubic patch, feeling Zava tremble under his feet, tossing the cloth between her extended but slightly spread legs, from which an unmistakable aroma was starting even now to emanate from. He did not linger there and resisting the urge to gape at her slit, went to her top and untied it, uncovering each breast in turn as he slid the cloth off her, tossing it to her sides. He then walked to her right breast slowly. Once he was on top of it, he put his foot on top of her still quiescent nipple, running his toes on her areola and scraping over her nub, playfully.

It started responding immediately, but Zava’s her left hand’s index finger appeared from the left (of course), her hand propped on her chest by the base of her thumb, and he grabbed her index for support as he balanced his weight in his right foot, while he played with Zava’s nipple with his left. Then her right thumb appeared and dabbed at his crotch.

“Take it out for me” Whispered Zava, head propped in her pillows. But as he tried to pull down his pants, Zava said: “No. through the hole”.

Mark unzipped his pants, as Zava’s mouth started to open slightly, transfixed by the movements of his small hands on his crotch, and moaning slightly as his right hand entered through his open pant’s fly and dug for his cock, the slightly limp shaft of it he finally managed to whip out, dramatically. Zava had not lost her time and she licked at her thumb and forefingers, finally taking them away from her glistening lips, and it was Mark’s turn to stare transfixed as a thin strand of saliva clung to her fingers from her mouth until her thumb made contact with the underside of his dick, which she immediately started to rub delicately but urgently.

“Keep playing with my tit” Zava reminded him as he stiffened with pleasure at Zava’s touch on his manhood.

Still supporting himself on Zava’s outstretched left finger, he kept rubbing his foot on her nipple. Zava stopped rubbing his cock and with the tips of her almost eerie dexterous long, delicately tapering fingers, and she managed to pull down Mark’s foreskin to uncover his penis’ head, herself gasping slightly at her success. Then she let go to see his foreskin to see it cover anew, although now only partially and increasingly less with each second, the purple, throbbing helmet of his manhood, which she loved seeing coming to life because of her.

She lightly pinched Mark’s free left hand between the same two fingers that a second before had been manipulating his prick and guided it to his crotch, signaling that she wanted to see him play with himself. Her chest was now noticeably heaving, his POV now rising and falling clearly on her chest. It was as if he was riding a sea wave.

Mark took his member with only two fingers (to better let Zava see his shaft)u der his head and started to tug at it in front of her…. She only managed to hold herself back for a few strokes of his hand on himself and then the moist fingers reappeared and displaced his hand, pinching his little head lightly and tugging at it hungrily but very delicately, covering it completely under the pad of her fingers, which she periodically retired to re-moisten them before continuing her mission, taking the time his cock was uncovered to look at it as if she wanted to eat it, or look Mark in the eye… he was completely under her power now, he thought, and liked it.

He managed to set the rhythm he wanted her to touch him at with the rhythm of his foot on her now very stiff nipple. She kept jerking him off relentlessly until his seed shot out of him into her fingertips, whose pads kept pressing lightly at his cock to feel every throb it could give before it started to go slightly limp, as she grunted with pleasure. She licked the salty drops off her fingers.

Mark had dropped to his belly and had grabbed with both hands and started to lick and nibble avidly at her nipple, inciting a long rumbling moan…. he kept servicing like this, insatiably, more urgently, as her torso buckled, her head rolled from side to side and the boob he was sitting on wobbled wildly, but he held on, her index descending eventually to push lightly at the back of his head, urging him to continue. He could see her other hand was pinching and pulling at her other nipple, stretching her breast into the air as more and more urgent but slightly subdued moans kept becoming more frequent.

Suddenly, her right hand grabbed his sides and almost roughly dragged him over her nipple, his chest, abdomen and crotch sliding over the rubbery nub. then her thumb pressed on his chest so he was sitting with her nipple between his legs, his cock lying on her areola. She grabbed her tit with her right hand and pulled her nipple and Mark to her mouth, her long tongue sticking out to cover his crotch and her nipple with abundant, lubricating saliva. She let go of her tit, which quavered back into place.

Her index and finger reappeared, to pinch together his cock and her nipple and mashed them together dexterously, rubbing his cock against her nipple delicately… now both were parallel, standing up to attention. Mark’s hip pumped, and she rubbed until she saw his white fountain spurt upwards, landing on her nipple, feeling his surprisingly abundant warmth running down the ridges of her nipple, which she lathered with her fingertips in his juices. He had fallen onto his back on top of her boob, staggered into a heaving heap with the intensity of the pleasure she had squeezed out of him.

Mark, however, was not completely spent and he staggered to her sternum, and down the plain of her stomach until he made it to her slit, sloping downwards between her legs. He then practically threw himself on her hood, Zava’s fingers catching his legs so he did not plummet headlong to the ground, as he started to lick her sensitive knob, already visibly throbbing and now almost exploding at Mark’s touch. Zava covered her mouth with her free hand to smother the wails of pleasure threatening to come out at Mark’s attack on her crotch. Then… Ahhhh!  he started to slap with one hand and then with the other at her clit. His hands were so slick with her juices and his skin so soft that Zava was not hurt, but rather sent into feverish spasms on her hips, and if she was not pressing on mark’s legs against her mons, he would have been thrown off her. This, of course, could not go for long and finally she came so hard she had to sit up, covering Mark with both her hands as an orgasmic grunt of gut-wrenching proportions was heard, her breath catching, her breasts heaving, flushed.

She finally lay back, recovering the panting Mark from under her hands and put him on her lips, not across but along them, his still erect prick lying between her lips… the two lovers lay there for a while… recovering

As soon as Zava felt his cock had softened, and he was almost drifting into sleep, her lips curving upwards devilishly, sucked slightly until his member slid between her lips, where it was not long before he coaxed it into hardness again. Zava enjoyed his helpless, feeble moans of pleasure as her lips skillfully milked his cock and soon he pressed with all his strength against her lips, propping himself with his hands, as his palpitating member gave its third gift into Zava’s mouth.

The last thing the now exhausted Mark remembered of that night was being laid down against her left breast, his mouth brushing her nipple, as Zava covered him with her top, retying it on her bust. He lay under her bra’s cloth, the warmth and scent of her bosom lulling him into sleep along with the slowing sound of her heartbeat. He had never slept in a softer mattress.

The next day, at 6:30 AM McAllister was on a nearby hangar he had requisitioned for his command center at the airport. He had called a meeting with Dr. Poole in a secure room to discuss if there were new findings so he could report back to the Pentagon. No one else was invited, as only they enjoyed the clearance levels necessary.

“Colonel, good morning” Said Dr. Poole, entering and taking a seat, coffee mug in hand.

“Good morning doctor”. Responded McAllister, taking a seat after Poole had.

“Yesterday afternoon we had the CDC report, at least the preliminary one”. Started Dr. Poole, never one for small talk. “Some analysis may take up to ten days, and we will need of course scat and urine samples, which we expect to get within the week”.

“Anything of interest there?”

“Not really”. Said Dr. Poole, with one of her characteristic shrugs. “we haven’t really confirmed any known pathogen to exist either in her bloodstream, nasal mucus or tissue samples. Bacterial flora in her mouth is consistent with known Earth biota, which is to be expected as Mr. Wilson and Ms. Casafus have been… exchanging fluids for quite a while. The fact that her DNA is reverse-coiled means that her native gut flora shares the same makeup, which of course would make many of our chemical tests, designed for right-coiling Earth DNA, to be unable to detect microorganisms from ‘giantland’, which will also mean that they cannot really interact, especially viruses, with Earth’s organisms”

“Meaning they would be harmless” Said McAllister.

“Most likely. We do not really have anything designed to easily test for those, other than visually, and that’s why some tests will take more days as we cultivate some of her samples in the lab to see what grows and multiplies there so we can see it in a microscope”.

“Well, our microphone guys have been monitoring their conversations, and we’re all set for electronic device monitoring of their handheld devices” Said McAllister, unwilling to elaborate on the fact that Zava could often be heard from outside the hangar with no need of high-yield tele-microphones. “they know they are being monitored, of course, according to a conversation we heard last night” among other things also heard… “but unless they are academy-award level actors, and at least Zava, I mean, Ms. Casafus does not seem to me to be one… I think these two are just average joe and jane”

“I don’t see her as the lying type either, smart, but too young and naïve to be playing us. But Mr. Wilson seems to be a rather… resolute character”.

“And that is bad?”

“He seems to be willing do to anything for her, virtually unafraid, and with little to lose besides his fiancée, so he might be inconvenient for us, and he’s an American Citizen, CEO of his own company, wealthy and he and Ms. Casafus are already very media visible”. Concluded Dr. Poole. “this does not mean she does not pose a danger. My guts tell me that we will not find anything that justifies an extension of the quarantine about her. But… she could still be quite dangerous if upset”

“I agree. What about the shackles? Any more data on them? Are they failing?” Said McAllister.

“They seem to be completely functional. All four. But accelerometer data tells us that she is so strong now, and getting stronger as she adapts, that they are mostly useless to restrain her with gravitonics only. Right now, they are only for show, but thankfully she does not strike me as violent”.

“Me neither, unless we try to take her man away. In fact, I think if it came to arrest him in front of her, she would resist most forcefully” and, thought McAllister, it would be pretty pointless to resist her without the use of artillery.

“Indeed. And the incendiary explosives built into the shackles are too powerful to use with people around”.

“We already (my troops, I mean) have a protocol for that. If we ever say ‘red Gulliver’, be prepared to get your people the hell away from her”.

“I do not think it’ll come to that, though” Said a pensive Dr. Poole. “We need to be prepared for anything, of course, but unless something really, really weird happens in the next few weeks, I will be unable to come up with anything to justify to the President the need to keep these two under custody beyond the 30 days. Monitoring them more covertly, will continue for quite a few years, I think”.

Probably forever… thought McAllister.

***

“Zav, the drone guys are here” Said Mark at about 7:30 AM., looking at the messages in his phone.

“Almost ready…” Said a nervous Zava, who was finishing putting her hair in a bun after combing it carefully, checking her image on the video projection. She had already taken a bath and her breakfast along with Mark, as she could get grumpy when hungry and she knew she would need to exercise her full patience and charm while submitting to the drone thing and the scrutiny of the people outside, and the media would probably be watching. She wanted -needed-  to give a good first impression.

She was dressed in a black bikini, very similar to the wine red she had donned the day before. Last check: boobs are at the same height, top and bottom knots are safe, no rogue hairs nor anything indecent is popping out, feet soles are clean, Ready! She even managed to put a little eyeliner on. Mark had a crate of the stuff she had ground to paste and applied with a brush Mark got her. Not too shabby, she smiled at her comely video counterpart, when she was satisfied. She did not see Mark smiling fondly behind her as she made faces at the mirror-screen.

“I’ll be out giving some instructions” said Mark, heading for the personnel door of the hangar. “I’ll leave the doors unlocked so you can slide them open whenever you’re ready”.

Minutes later, with some trepidation, Zava, in all fours, pushed aside the doors of the hangar wide open and crawled as gracefully outside as possible in that undignified position, blinking under the sun. As soon as she was sure her back was clear from the lintel, she stood up. She looked down at the small group of little people in front of her. Mark, McAllister and his female assistant, and two other unknown, a young man and a young woman. Smiling, she waved at them.

***

As the first time he saw Zava, McAllister could not help but look up in awe at the striking figure of the giant woman, getting out of the hangar in all fours, her chest swinging with tantalizing motions as she crawled through the threshold. When she stood and waved, he waved back at her. The two drone technicians beside him were, predictably, slack-jawed with astonishment now. They were far enough (40 meters) that everyone could look at Zava without getting a crick on the neck, but still they had to look quite a way up to meet her laughing eyes. He could detect some nervousness in her at being so scantily clad outside in the slightly stiff set of her shoulders at first, but she was relaxing gradually. His soldiers were far behind, but very attentive, he was sure.

She was wearing a two-piece, bra and bottom black bikini light thing, quite skimpy, barely covering her womanly charms; McAllister found himself wondering, a little guiltily, what she would look like from behind.  She was, of course barefoot and she had her hair in a tight bun. Her long, athletic legs, wide hips, slender waistline and well-formed bust, along with her long, graceful neck and of course, her beautiful face were amazing on their own; seen together at her size was truly breathtaking. She twined her fingers together in front of her, her breasts pressing together enticingly as she did so.

“Well, guys. I’m ready! Tell me what to do”. Her mellow voice reverberated. The two technicians quailed a little at being addressed at by the giant beauty. They looked at each other and one, the man, lifted the loudspeaker he was holding and said:

“Um… hello…Ms. Casafus… I’m Ed and this is Latisha from Coronado Advanced Fabrics” he said, pointing at the young black woman holding the quadcopter.

“Call me Zava, please”.

“Um… Zava… We’ll need three poses, front and back. For the first of the three poses, please step away from the building…” she did so…  “right there. Now stand straight, looking straight ahead, hands at your sides, left hand with your palm facing us, right hand with the back facing us, fingers separated from each other; please also separate your feet five meters”

“Er.. how much is that?” Asked Zava… “I’m not familiar with your units”

“About a foot and a half, Zav.” Clarified Mark, speaking near the loudspeaker, not to call attention to his hidden earpiece, which he was almost sure was one of the few things they had not bugged. Zava complied as best she could.

“Please do not clench your teeth… er… Zava…” said Ed to Zava. “and this is very important, please do not follow the drone with your eyes. As soon as I say ‘action’, please remain very still, until I say ‘done’.

Latisha then started preparing the drone, taking it out of its case, and then setting the flight course with her tablet. Zava could see that it was very similar to the first one she had seen back in the field, but with three hemispheres, arranged under it instead of a camera lens. Mark had explained to her that these 3D scanners worked with lasers instead of lenses, and the hemispheres were the sensors. Soon the 6 rotors of the drone where buzzing, and then she heard Ed say:

“Action!” The drone took off and flew until it was way over her head. Then it started circling Zava slowly, as if it was tethered to her by an invisible three-feet cord, in a descending spiral, until it was all the way down to her ankles. It was surprisingly difficult, thought Zava, to keep herself from following it with her eyes, particularly when it finished its descent and started flying under her… between her legs at knee-height… she barely held herself from either closing her legs, covering her crotch with her hands or looking down.

“Done” said Ed, when Latisha nodded up at him. The drone returned to Latisha, who retrieved a memory card, put in a new one, exchanged spent batteries for fresh ones and nodded to Ed.

“Now please turn around, your back to us. Please stand with your feet a little farther apart… like that. Arms extended to your sides, like a cross… good. Close your eyes, please”.

Everyone present could see Zava had flushed, evidently abashed at being standing in front of them in such revealing attire. For revealing it was. Her splendid, wide and pert rear with perfectly proportioned buttocks was only covered by the thin strand of her G-string, which disappeared between her cheeks, where her thigh gap allowed a small bulge of black cloth, hugging the slight bulge of her vulva, noticeable to the small people behind and below her.

Soon the drone was again in the air, repeating the performance. Next Zava was made to turn her front to them, look up, raise her arms above her head and bend her knees in a half-squat. This time the drone, after finishing the circling flyby, passed once above her head, between her raised arms and then got down her back to pass between her legs to her front.

“That’s it!” Said Ed. They packed their things and left, accompanied by the colonel, waving at Zava, who waved back and then shot a meaningful look at Mark. Don’t leave yet… and then got to her knees.

Mark got closer to her. She reached down for him, picked him up with two fingers, lifted him to eye level, and then set him in the middle of both her cupped hands, where he kneeled to keep himself stable, as she was trembling slightly. In silence, she looked at him closely with a slight frown, lips tight with worry. Mark in turn looked up at her. Outside, in daylight, every detail of her large, beautiful face was clearly visible. Her dainty nose, doe eyes and full lips, her smooth brow and slightly flushed cheeks, they were all so perfect… her intense gaze looked up and down his body several times, as if she was recording him as the drone had just done to her. Her gaze finally settled on his eyes. Hers were breathtaking, as always, regarding him with her characteristic, hypnotic intensity. She bit her lower lip in an adorable little grimace.

“Mark… my love… please take care of yourself out there. If you did not return… if something happened to you…” her voice almost broke, but she managed to keep her welling tears from running, after inhaling a deep, deep gulp of air. “I’d go insane from grief and loneliness. You’re all I’ve got now”.

Seeing her like that, Mark also barely managed to hold back tears… it would not do to upset Zava more...

“Don’t worry, Zava. I’ll behave myself like I was made out of eggshells” he managed to say, feigning cheerfulness… truth be told, he also felt anxious when separated from Zava, especially since their arrival to Earth. Her talk about divine punishment, especially, left him worried she would pop out of phase with this dimension or something, never to be seen again… as it reminded him the reason for their arrival on Earth would, it seemed, remain downright unexplained… could it happen again, but in reverse, ever again?

 You might as well be made of egshells, dear, precious Mark, at least for me… that’s why I am always careful around you… when I hold you, when I walk near you, when I sit, and of course, when we make love… for even my sex could break you… was I not ever vigilant not to. You’re like my fragile, priceless little treasure. Be careful!

“Cheer up! Let’s not become all weepy now, shall we?” Said Mark.

“Not me” managed to laugh Zava. “I’ve got to make that phone call, you know!”  she let Mark down, and slid a finger down his body in a last caress as he entered the douche stall for the second time that day (he of course did it before going to speak with the drone people), ready to cleanse himself before going to be in contact with the public. Zava crawled awkwardly backwards into the hangar, very conscious that otherwise she would be flashing her ass at McAllister and everyone outside. She waited until he made it out of the stall, ready to go shopping. Zava waved at him, and after he saluted her and started walking away, she closed the hangar doors with a sigh. When he looked back, he only saw the closed hangar, but he clearly heard the sigh through the earpiece, which then went to mute on Zava’s side.

Once alone, Zava did not cry, although she felt dangerously close to when she looked around at the lofty and very empty hangar, which her tiny fiancée filled so much nevertheless when he was there with her. She hugged her knees, chin supported by them, as she closed her eyes and made the conscious effort to soldier on the rest of the day, truly the first of her captivity, as the day before did not count, she was so happy yesterday with Mark! Then she undid her bun, braided her hair, turned on the screen and set to see YouTube videos and browse around until ten, setting an alarm for 10 minutes earlier than the time Mark had told her to make the phone call, her first real one on this Earth.

***

It was exactly 10:00 o’clock when the video call request flashed in one Tom’s screens as he tweaked some designs in his computer. It was from a Mark Wilson, a familiar name, but one he could not place a face to. But when he accepted the call, a woman was looking at him self-consciously from the screen. What a cutie! Tom thought as she smiled at him. She seemed to be in a low-cut top, as he could see no fabric from her shirt. Only her naked shoulders, straddled by thin black straps supporting whatever she had on, her striking face and a promising neck were visible on the screen.

“I take it you’re not Mark” said Tom, smiling back at the woman.

“No… are you Tom tsch…Schlesinger, from Coronado Advanced Fabrics?” said the hottie, struggling with his obviously unfamiliar to her Germanic last name. The girl had also a very pleasant, husky voice, topped by an also very sexy accent he could not really place… Obviously not American. Her face was also eerily familiar. He knew it from somewhere, recently he knew he had seen her? On screen? … but maddeningly, he could not really place it… an actress? Newscaster?

“Where are you calling from, ma’am?”

“From… Martha’s Vineyard, in Massachusetts”. Her accent rendered the last word in a sing-song lilt that made his heart skip a beat… as he looked him straight in the eyes, smiling. man, this girl is sexy…

“Yes. Ma’am, how may I help you?”

“I’m calling about a 3D scan just made by Ed and Latisha here on the island earlier today. I was told the data would be received by you by this time”.

Mark checked his file sharing service. The files had arrived, actually. He tapped on them, and waited for the large point cloud to load.

“Sorry, did not catch your name” Said Tom.

“Oh! I’m Zava Casafus. Sorry I did not tell you earlier”. Her face was now sporting a wry smile. She seemed to be expecting something from him… perhaps she was waiting to be recognized… the name rang a bell, definitely not American though… Venezuelan, perhaps? Israeli?  Actresses hated not being recognized…

The point cloud opened, and he rendered the first of the three files. It was a full-body (very HOT body) scan of the same woman from the call… dressed in a skimpy bikini with a revealing black g-string… he gulped as he zoomed in and rotated the shapely woman’s render to see it from all sides in his other screen. Close-fitting indeed. Is she wearing this right now? Looks like He was getting aroused despite himself…

“There must be some kind of mistake here, Zava… we are not in the business of making apparel… we do made to order large tents, blimps, sails and hot air balloons, parachutes, car covers, tarps for airplanes and buildings….” He begun saying, but then he zoomed out and noticed the scale… he did a double take, getting his face closer to the screen as he frowned. This must indeed be a mistake… and then it hit him… the giant woman from the news!!!! He turned at Zava, jaw dropping in recognition… he had been talking to a giant, alien woman! She smiled sheepishly, eyes twinkling with mischief. Thank god, he had not hit on her! How ridiculous she would have thought him!

“No Tom. No mistake. I was hoping we could discuss some apparel design I have in mind. Your experience with blimps, will come in handy, I think”. She winked at him 

Mark was glad things were settling down, a week after Zava’s arrival. Getting all she needed had turned out to be more difficult than he expected, he reflected, while walking out of the barber’s shop. He finally managed to take the time to get a buzzcut, so his hair would not keep getting in the way, and would be much easier to wash after enjoying Zava’s much welcome but often messy attention.

He had at length managed to enlist the services a reliable catering company on the island, that could deliver a variety of foodstuff to the airport, and were even willing to provide a balanced and varied menu for Zava’s whole week with their on-house dietician, who calculated the amount of food Zava had to consume every day. It turned out that Zava, an 80 foot giantess, would be about 5’6” if brought down to Earth’s size. That would mean Zava was roughly about 12 times larger than an Earthling, and, Mark had seen, was about 500 pounds of food per meal, about 288,000 calories. Feeding Zava, then, was like feeding roughly 144 young women her age and (relative) build.

The fabrics company managed to provide, after Zava’s discussion with their design team, and in a surprisingly short time, five sports bras and three T-shirts for Zava, a pair of baggy sweatpants, two of yoga pants and five assorted boy short and slip panties, much less revealing than the five thongs he managed to get made the first day. They were being delivered piecemeal as they got made in a variety of fabrics, mostly parachute fabric and others Zava chose from a sampler they had sent her. She had also come up with a more formal dress design for the interviews that she would be getting from White house advisors, mostly scientists and politicians, and some spooks thrown in the mix, McAllister had said. Mark had not seen the design, as Zava was taking care of all that with Coronado Advanced Fabrics and it would be a few days before that was ready to be sent to her.

Also, a local leather workshop had delivered a pair of simple leather sandals, just yesterday, which was good as the airport runway left Zava’s feet very filthy and sore from her nightly exercise walks with Mark on her.

He had underestimated, though, the amount of work it would take for the bank to give him access to his accounts, as it took him five more days to finally get his identity back, and that only thanks to the help of Homeland Security, in which Dr. Poole’s assistance was a lifesaver. After two days of fruitless efforts, the money Betty loaned him had run out, and, after much fretting (which he did not communicate to Zava, she had enough things to worry about) he finally had to swallow his pride and call Betty for more, which she provided. This morning, he had finally managed to reimburse her. He then also managed to get his driver’s license and insurance back, and now he did not have to worry about being stopped by the police while driving around the island in the pickup Betty had rented.

Today, he had also seen to getting some of the things Zava would need for her feminine hygiene, as he knew her period must be approaching, and it was longer than earthling women’s were, he was not sure how long, in Earth’s time… but the following errand was much more interesting…

As for Zava, she had settled into a straightforward routine, too. Mark left in the morning to take care of paperwork and other things, while Zava kept studying on the computer by watching videos and taking notes, and reading online encyclopedias to get acquainted with America’s and the world’s culture, politics and history.

She had mostly avoided watching news videos (especially about her), as she found them too panicky and over-the-top, resorting only to reading some news sites for current events on America and elsewhere, but sparingly, as there were too many things she could not understand, and most names of cities and places or events did not make much sense to her yet. She loved watching videos of astronauts, moon landings and the space station, partly from her interest as a budding engineer, but also because there was nothing like it in her world, yet. Tech and gadget sites were also very interesting, but she progressed little there, as she still had to perform too many web searches to understand what the devices would do, and then one search led to another interesting topic, and that to another, and later she lost track of why she had started the search in the first place, with dozens of open tabs in her browser. Too much interesting stuff!

Today she was wearing one of the yoga pants and t-shirts that first arrived, both dark gray. The outfit she came to Earth in had been already washed as well. She was watching some spreadsheet tutorials (gotta be prepared for managing the terrific amount of money we’d have to spend to maintain myself and Mark in expensive tinyland) when someone knocked on the door. By now, she knew she had to wait for the people who knocked on the door to retire to a safe distance and then open the door. Who can it be? It was about 10 AM and it was too soon for lunch or for Mark to arrive; breakfast had been delivered way earlier. She was NOT looking forward for any other visitor, and she was assured the interviews with the government panels would not start for another few days. She crawled toward the door, curious, and slid the door open a bit.

But... It was Mark! He was standing there, smiling, straining under the weight of a flower bouquet almost bigger than him.

“Jolly TurnYear Zava!” Mark said, using the term familiar to Zava for her birthday.

Zava was agog, stunned speechless at the sight of her lover, and at the unexpected merriment, letting a girlish squeal of pleasure out.

“Mark!!!! What a surprise!!  I lost track of time when I made it to Earth… is it really today?” she took the bouquet, made of many purple and pink flowers she did not recognize… So cute! it smells so good! “Thank you!!!”.

“As far as I know, it’s today! I even wrote to an astrophysicist of one of the panels that’s gonna come to interview you, and he helped me make the calculations according to the Spindrift logs!” he said, excited.  “so, Zav, your official Earth’s birthday is October the 28th from now on!”

“Oh, Mark, you didn’t have to… we… I mean you’re spending so much already on me as it is!! Oh, how much I love my little man! “Having you back early is present enough”

“Nonsense! (those are roses, by the way) I’d never let your birthday pass uncelebrated!”

“You’re such a sweetheart!” Said Zava, whisking Mark to cover him with kisses. “You cut your hair! I can kiss you much better this way… mmmmm” added Zava, nuzzling his face onto her lips. She then scooted backwards with Mark on her hand, put down the bouquet inside the hangar and closed the door.

“OK Zava, I’m all yours for today” said Mark as soon as they were alone.

You bet you are… getting wet just thinking what I’m gonna do to you…

“I’m going to grant you three wishes today, babe, whatever you ask of me, I will do it. No holds barred! Ask away!” he added, with a wolfish grin.

“Well…” started Zava, hesitantly… “there are some things I had been wanting to try, but was a little embarrassed to ask of you, but since today you would do whatever I say…” she ended with a coyness belied by her lusty gaze.

“As long as you think I can survive it…” chuckled Mark. “Name your first wish”.

Here it goes… “Fine… but don’t think I’m weird…” said Zava, flushing, as she put Mark down on the floor before her kneeling, but still looming curvaceous frame… and don’t be afraid… you’ll enjoy this too, sweetheart, you’ll see. “I want to catch you as you try to get away from me, but really, really trying not to be caught. And when I do catch you…”

“If you can” said Mark, teasingly. Zava’s smile turned naughty.

“When I catch you” she repeated, mirroring his wolfish grin “and you will have to run around as naked as I’ll be when I chase you, you will continue to try to resist what I’m going to do with you. I will not say a word, and you will continue to struggle until I give you the command to do my further bidding… and, in case you feel I’m going too far, we’ll use the safe word ‘Mississippi’ to stop the game… now get to the other side of the hangar and take off your clothes. I’ll do the same here… and get the new lifeline, dear, you’ll need it”.

They were soon naked, and Zava started to stalk Mark, as a giant lioness, getting closer and closer on all fours to him, breasts and loose hair swinging quite distractedly, her spellbinding giant eyes fixed on him. He had girdled himself with the new lifeline, also of black silk, and he sported an oxygen mask like the ones worn on airplanes (now worn around his forehead), as it would be a while until he could get a substitute for his ‘spreader’, now lost in a cabin somewhere in giantland, lightyears away and likely lost forever.

 He knew Zava was fast, so he’d have to really make the effort to keep things interesting. Her other hand was busy supporting her weight. He shimmied his hips, making his member flap around wildly, hoping to distract her, and succeeded, as she gazed surprised at his lashing cock, stopping her advance for a fraction of a second. Before he came to her senses again to try to seize him, he dashed unexpectedly towards her, Zava’s grasping hand missing him by inches.

He pushed his initial advantage to sprint under her body, forcing her to pivot to position herself to grab him, but Mark made it between her knees, resisting the urge to look upwards to her crotch and swinging tits, and then as she struggled to get her hand where he was, he vaulted over her wrist and ran behind her, on her left side. She however pivoted nimbly on one knee and getting her head near the floor, whipped her head so her hair lashed at Mark, the long strands tripping him and making him fall. Before he hit the ground, Zava’s agile fingers had caught him. Only his head was free of her fist; her member was caught between her pinkie and ring finger, its head sticking out from between them.

Gotcha!!! Brace yourself tiny, I’m going to play with my hot little toy…

Closing her eyes, he brought him to her face, sticking out her long tongue to feel up the features of his face with the tip. Licking gently but eagerly sideways and up-down, she felt his chin, mouth, nose, ears, his fluttering eyelashes, his forehead, and the top of his skull, and heard him moan in pleasure at her moist, erotic caresses.

Her tongue found his mouth tightly closed, her tongue tip prying open his soft lips to feel his tiny, clenched teeth, which nevertheless soon opened wide to accommodate her enormous tongue, wrestling with his tiny one, and he bit her tip gently, trying to prevent it from leaving his mouth, when she thought he had enough. Tilting her fist she plunged his head in her lips, sucking gently to feel his skull in her mouth, rolling her tongue around his head as if he was giving a blowjob. Now she was doing the moaning, and getting increasingly excited. Thankfully she had removed her yoga pants, or her lower wetness would be seeping and showing already in the fabric. She moved her fist to kiss and suck as his now fully erect member’s little head poking from between her knuckles, tasting his salty precum with relish.

She later adroitly changed his grip on him so only his legs were inside her fist. His balls and cock were sticking out, laying on the base of her thumb. Her other hand grasped his flailing hands, which were struggling to pry her fingers apart in mock but strong resistance. She tenderly but firmly pulled his arms over his head. Now he was helpless to stop her have her way. He was smiling expectantly, but continued to squirm.

Lifting him to her eyes, she opened her fist, keeping his hands pinned with her left hand and with the right he used two fingers to force him to spread his legs, putting his balls and member in full view of her prying eyes, very close to his body. His hips started pumping involuntarily.

Smiling, she let go so his full weight was now hanging from her left hand, legs kicking in the air, unable to shield his crotch from either her gaze or her fingers. Her right upturned index fingertip pad started caressing his testicles unhindered, causing him to utter stifled but undeniable needy moans… she knew he need to feel her touch on his manhood… now… but she wanted to delight in the moment, edging him as long as she could.

Then, without warning, she brought her right hand up again and grasped Mark around his legs, leaving his cock out of her fist, and plunged him wetly into her mouth, covering him thoroughly with her saliva… he gasped and sputtered, but she was going to need him lubricated for his next stop. Her breath was now as accelerated as his… and just as eager, if not more.

Now Zava stood on her knees, these slightly apart, and lowered Mark, bringing him right under her from behind, aiming for between her thighs. Mark, elated, saw her sparkling eyes and smile looking at him from above, her lovely, smooth, tanned buttocks and up close, her already puffy vulva. He could also see, of course, her willowy arm and the underside of her boob, as she twisted her waist to look down and behind her at her lover.

Although her slit was however, tightly shut still, he could guess where her vagina was by a bead of clear womanly goo, dangling from a transparent thread more than three feet long, like a sensual bell from the lower commissure of her labia, doubtlessly a harbinger of her love canal, soaked to the point of overflowing.

Zava was getting very excited from having him there, as the moist thread quickly became thicker and dangled lower, the gob at its end increasing in caliber. Mark was sure Zava had never seen herself from this angle nor this incredibly erotic evidence of her snowballing arousal. The fact that she had not pitched him directly into her at once was also evidence that she was enjoying seeing him there and that she wanted him to enjoy her as well.

She could not wait forever, of course, and soon he found herself getting closer and closer to her crotch, directly under her, until her face was eclipsed by her ass completely, his head now navigating the inside of her ass crack towards her core. Remembering his role, he pushed with his hands, free of her fist, at the yielding flesh of her buttocks, in a pretense effort to resist his ravaging.  Zava reveled in rubbing him against her intimate parts with his little hands and arms pushing against her, stimulating her in his squirms and struggles.

Mark heard, even without the earpiece, her gasp of utter pleasure when she had brought him all the way to her cunt and she felt his hands trying to push against her labia as she guided carefully, by touch, his head towards her opening.

The previous stream of grool Mark had seen was now anything but discrete, and he had to duck his head as his head got closer to her hole to avoid splashing the blob at the end of her pendulous string of juices into his face, this instead sticking warmly to his shoulders, streaming down his back slowly. He propped his hands against her labia, pushing against her intimate flesh to avoid (playing along with Zava’s fantasy of forceful insertion) her obvious efforts to tickle her vaginal opening with his head.

Of course his arms were no match to the leverage of Zava’s arm pushing him inside her, and he knew the moment for the mask had come. He swung it down from his forehead to his nose and mouth and braced himself, as he felt her bend over slightly, and next Zava’s relentless hand pushed his head slowly into her pussy, her breath escaping noisily into a groan of need as she felt his tiny lover cleaving her folds.

Ahhhhh… get up my cunt, my little toy… my little cock-sized man… I am so horny… this is so depraved… so sexy… sticking a struggling man… my man…  bodily and forcibly  into my vagina… knowing you can’t do anything to stop me…

I wish I could keep you up there all day writhing inside me...

As Mark’s head entered her, his hands continued to push franticly against her labia, eliciting evident vaginal contractions. But soon he was overpowered, and his shoulders slid in, and then his chest and waist. But Zava soon got him out and slid him right back in, repeating this movement delicately but unremittingly, fucking herself with Mark’s body from behind…

“My god, baby… Zava, you’re so hot…” he muttered, covered by her juices, as she got him in and out of her pussy. “I want to burrow inside your cunt all the way in… just like that”.

Mark’s words made Zava shudder with unabashed wantonness… she loved to hear him talk dirty when he was inside her… she could feel his tongue lapping wildly at the sensitive flesh at the opening of her vagina. She inserted him a little deeper, slowly, to feel as much and as long of his length as she could, rubbing against the entrance to her cunt. Now he was up to his shins inside her, the lifeline trailing after his feet.

She then felt Mark’s little hands rubbing the rippling insides of her pussy, approaching that sensitive spot he had found inside her, looking for it by touch in the darkness of her insides, and then she clenched her teeth as he found it and grabbed it roughly, scraping it with his strong fingers and fingernails.

The satisfaction, the pleasure was so overwhelming that she had to release her grip on his legs to prop her hands on the ground so she did not collapse on it, her breath coming in rapid gasps, mouth open to gulp as much air as she could. She was even getting light headed, that’s how good it was…

Ahhhhhhhh! I’m going to pass out… my gods… I don’t want this to end…. Deeper.. deeper

She managed to put a hand to her crotch and pushed on his tiny ravisher’s soles until with a final slurp, he was completely inside her. She straightened herself, looking down between her legs, where there was no outward sign of him, other than his heavy breathing on the earpiece as he kept stimulating her.

“Oh Mark… you’re all the way inside… I can’t even see you…”

“But you can feel me…” she heard on her earpiece from a panting Mark, who then pinched as hard as he could at her G-spot’s fleshy lump.

She in turn rubbed her clit furiously, gritting her teeth to avoid the scream of pleasure that would be heard all over town if she let it out, until an orgasmic upsurge indeed made her collapse on the ground, breasts flattening under her on the cool floor, her hips pumping back and forth onto her hand, still making circles over her exploding clit.

Seconds later, she was lying motionless, panting with her cheek on the floor, eyes closed, unable to stand or speak. She lazily registered how Mark, with a surprising show of strength, curled himself inside her in a ball and turned his body around in her now more relaxed canal, so his head was now towards her opening, and begun to squirm his way out, prompting more pleasurable sensations as he trashed to the surface.

She felt when his hands started to pry at her opening from inside. Still lying down, she spread her legs and reached back and down, exploring around in her cunt with her index finger, until she felt two tiny hands coming out of her, grasping at her fingertip. Although she could have grabbed the lifeline, trailing out of her hole, she instead pulled delicately her finger away from her cunt, dragging a panting but ecstatic Mark slowly out of her, grabbing her slender digit, with a sigh of pleasure at the nice friction against her womanhood’s entrance.

She did not pull him all the way out at once, but once she felt his shoulders come out, she felt around her crotch with her fingers, appreciating and feeling with her fingertips the combination of her sensitive folds enveloping her lover, and his limbs and head, slick with her juices, his body still half inside of her, until she pulled him by the armpits and deposited him on one of her buttocks, retiring her hand to lay at her side on the floor. She was still panting, as was Mark.

That was so good… “Thank you Mark for coming early today…  for remembering my birthday… for let me act out my fantasy as we made love”

“I love pleasuring you Zav… It’s all I live for”. Said Mark as he sat in the middle of her ass, tickling her anus lazily with his foot, making Zava squirm and giggle.

“I was so horny I was having trouble studying before you came home”. Said Zava, eyes closed, arms now under her head as a makeshift pillow, concentrating all her senses in feeling the almost imperceptible weight of her lover on her backside and his tiny foot tickling her, legs spreading a little more on the ground on their own to better feel him. She could feel him changing position, now lying on his belly, his fingers sliding over the ridges of her asshole, making it clench in pleasure. His tiny, hard cock was poking a dimple on the sensitive skin of her rump.

“I’m horny all the time around you Zav., you’re just too hot… and I love you so” he said, running his other hand lovingly on her soft backside, too.

She reached out for him and gathered him in her fist again. She sat, and grabbed each of his hands pinched between the index and thumb of one of hers, lifting him to her eyes, careful not to pull his arms out of their sockets.

“What do you want me to do now” said Mark, as Zava looked him in the eye, naked and exposed before her, legs dangling in the air; the oxygen mask was back around his forehead. “I came inside you earlier… it was too much, I could not resist”, he admitted, so she did not think she had to finish him off.

“First tell me you were not scared…  I like you playing along but only as a game” Said Zava, suddenly serious.  “I admit I like when you struggle, but mostly because that way I can feel you better in my hands… and elsewhere”. She added with a prim, but perfectly flirty smile, looking him over lustily, and setting him against her left breast, keeping him pressed against her yielding flesh, looking down at him with all the love she could muster in her gaze. She could feel his tiny feet against her areola.

“I survived, didn’t I? You’ve still got two wishes left”, he said without looking up at her… he was busy rubbing his face contentedly on the soft, warm and scented skin of her boob, enjoying her warm hand keeping his back from getting cold.

“My next wish… is that these people let me leave this hangar at the end of the quarantine, so we can make love in private… whenever we want… in our new home”. Before Mark could protest, she added: “I know it is not entirely in your hands or mine, and I have doubts I am to be let go that easily… but that is my wish. I do not want to jinx my birthday asking anything more of you… or from Providence”.

“You still have a third wish left…” added Mark, eager to pleasure her, and to keep her mind away from the same worries she was expressing and that he also had… it’s true they had made advances in their situation, but he knew unforeseen obstacles were surely lurking in their future, as she obviously did, too.

“I’m going to save THAT one for your birthday, dear” Said Zava, with an elfin smile. “You can ask your wishes then as well… and I’ll cash in on mine then”.

She then made her way to their makeshift bed, and both lay there motionless for a while, in companionable silence. Zava’s slow breathing soon made it known to Mark that she had fallen asleep. He decided not to bother her and let her have a little nap. He was very comfortable himself, with her hand as her blanket and her breast as the best water bed you could imagine.

His thoughts, however, were far from peaceful. In three days the probation panels would start…  He was particularly wary of the politicians coming to see Zava… . They would interview Zava and Mark separately.  He knew Zava was of quite above average intelligence, and no fool, but her young, honest personality would hardly be the match of seasoned lawyers, conniving politicians and behavioral experts from security agencies, the best in the world, that now surely would be vying as wolves for the chance to be in the panels. It’s not that she had anything to hide, but taken out of context, any word could be used against you… and she could not exactly plead the 5th.

If his experience in business had taught him something, is that practically no one, and politicians in particular, ever gave anything for free. Their ties to lobbying corporations worried him. He was sure if he had the idea to use Zava’s newfound fame to give her the power to earn her own money, there were people out there smarter than him, more powerful and more connected, who were having similar, if less altruistic plans of their own. But, he thought, gritting his teeth, they don’t love her, and damn it if there is anyone out there more determined that I am! She will be free.

The next day after Zava’s birthday, when she came out of her den to her accustomed sunbathing hour, she could see a veritable army of workers were busy like bees building some kind of wooden structure in one of the spaces between hangars. She asked one of the soldiers of the security perimeter, who was at a respectable distance from her, and he hollered back that that they were building a kind of raised stage with a canopy for the ‘very important people’ that were coming to interview her.

As she sat there basking in the weak autumn sun in her dark blue yoga pants and matching t-shirt, watching the workers, Zava thought that the platform made sense, as the VIPs who would come would not be comfortable looking up at her all the time, even while she was seated. These interviews would likely last for hours, and she estimated that if she sat in the ground in front of them, they would be roughly chest-level height with her. She supposed (or rather hoped) that at some point the workers would likely build a seat for her as well.

She had talked to Mark earlier that week about the ‘probation panels’ as he called them, although surely they would have a more official and considerable longer title for the job. Mark had explained that nowadays people preferred to perform most meetings through telepresence, thanks to the ubiquity of cameras on laptops, tablets and cell phones, instead of going through the hassle of flying in an airplane. But Zava’s was a completely different situation altogether, he explained.

In her case, seeing her in person was a complete must, as she confirmed later with her eclectic internet browsing. There were quite a few rabid conspiracy theorists already calling her an elaborate holographic or animatronics hoax, a few even saying she was a complete fabrication from the fake news media to create panic with stories about aliens. These claimed she did not exist altogether. Thus, the need to get the personalities to come and see her in the flesh.

These theories were far from being complete fringe, however, as even some politicians and personalities from the entertainment industry, including pundits known for their purported distrust of mainstream media and government-provided info, were skeptical that she was real, and the discussion was quite heated on twitter and other social networks, she quickly found out with dismay. She thought there would have to be some touching involved in order to convince some of these people, if it was possible at all to persuade them.

She and Mark had only started uploading some videos to her YouTube video page, where Mark first put his first video about them, after she received less revealing clothing. She and Mark had also posted brief entries on her social network sites, but only sparingly, as DHS had ‘suggested’ they did.

She created a Twitter account of her own, ‘Zav_TrueGTS’ so nobody could supplant her, to better follow the discussions and join in if she thought it needed, and specially to be prepared for the panels, but refrained from actively participating, as it probably would call too much attention upon her, and she saw that the discussions were far from civil, but she had her defenders also.

Even the president and some actors and scientists had commented on Twitter at some point on the ‘giantess’ issue, as the friendly ones called her. The not-so-friendly side called her the ‘giant alien female’. Some of these last said that she was too pretty and shapely to be real and presented some of the pics from the news arguing about the lighting, saying it clearly demonstrated the pics were bogus or that she herself was bogus. Others presented calculations that, according to them, demonstrated there was no way a woman her size and build would be able to exist or move around without folding in a heap under the Earth’s gravity, so she was likely a sophisticated, but mostly hollow gynoid with a metal skeleton.

The fact that she was cloistered just a day after her appearance helped fuel these rumors of fakeness, as very few people had seen her after that, as besides the few ‘official’ images Mark and her had posted, there were only a few recent images probably leaked from soldier’s or airport worker’s cell phones from her brief outings, and, (slightly) alarmingly, admittedly grainy shots of her, barefoot and in the first G-strings mark had had made, walking on the airport’s runway, probably taken by someone hiding under the bushes behind the chain-link fence.  The pics were so poorly lit, however, that nobody could tell Mark was riding in her cleavage in those.

Zava’s very large pupils let in lot of ambient light, which meant that she could see much better than Mark (or any other tiny, for that matter), at night, a fact they had discovered in their relationship very early on. This meant she did not really need the runway to be lit for her nighty exercise walks, therefore and thankfully preventing the paparazzies to be able to get good images of her. And the hangars were heavily guarded.

Construction was not finished in three days. After she first saw the workers building the structure, three more days she went out and they still were not finished. Same on the fourth day. But this day, in the evening, she and Mark both got official emails from the ‘First Contact Advisory Committee’, which had 10 people, though they were not named. Both Zava and Mark were being requested to appear before the first panel on the next day. Zava’s was going to take place at 10 AM in front of the stage. Mark’s would take place at the same hour but in a nearby hangar where they both knew McAllister and the DHS people had their temporary headquarters.

On the fifth day, when she emerged at 9:45 (Mark had left a little earlier), she noticed the structure was completed.  It was actually rather fancy, with a retractable roof to keep the sun off the panelists, an elevator to the side and stairs with rails. It also had blue carpeting on top of the stage, and a long table with red and white drapes. This was obviously done with the American flag color scheme. In Zava’s country, drapery of the national flag color was considered to be tacky, and actually bad luck to have; incidentally, in her world, the cloth was draped from a horizontal crossbar suspended from the staff, unlike most Earth flags (in which the 'hoist' of the cloth is attached directly to the vertical staff) she had seen since arriving at tinyland.

Mark had also told her that the stage would have a positive air pressure system, so the quarantine could be enforced, and none of the air coming from her breath would reach the panelists, so she did not have to use the mask. This because the psychologists and the other panelists would need to read her facial gestures and eye expressions, as would, he added, the AI system what would be analyzing her body language and her speech through the on-site cameras.

There were five chairs behind, and five water bottles on the table, obviously one for each committee member, and name plaques, but she could not get close enough to read them. One of the artillery walking drones was, disquietingly, beside the stage, not too close but obviously ready for action, and obviously would be pointing at HER. And there was even a seat prepared for her use. At least they were considerate enough not to make me sit on the ground in my gown. It was not a chair, but rather like a wide and well-padded cushion, enough, she thought, to sit cross-legged or sideways. There was a kind of thick padded scaffold at the left of the cushion, to allow her to recline on it a bit.

Of course, there were a few tinies, mostly young people, coming and going on the stage, likely aides making last minute arrangements, arranging the chairs and tablets for the panelists, checking the sound and video systems, etc. Around the stage there were also some very serious people with sunglasses and dark suits, obviously security detail, likely armored and armed and to the teeth under their coats, as Mark had told her they would be. Colonel McAllister was on the stage, out of his fatigues and in full regalia for the event, with all his medals on, talking to a young woman with a large (relatively speaking) black camera slung from a strap, who was taking notes.

Young and old, armed or not, elegantly dressed or in simple catering or military uniforms, Zava noted how every single one of the little people on the stage or around it stopped in their tracks, eerily synchronized, to look up at her in astonishment as soon as she carefully got out of the hangar and stood up to her full height, looking down at them from a distance. She saw some even gave an involuntary step back, and not a few jaws had dropped in unconscious disbelief when they saw her, most of them obviously for the first time in flesh and blood.

“Um… hello everyone” Said Zava, clenching her hands in front of her, smiling bashfully. Some of them started visibly where they stood as they realized they were being addressed by her. “may I take my seat now?”. At the awkward silence and realizing no one was certain if he or she was authorized to respond, except perhaps McAllister, who was too into the stage and without his loudspeaker, she chuckled silently to herself and simply walked to the cushion and sat gracefully on it sideways. She was about six (giant) feet from the stage.

Realizing they would be even more uncomfortable if she just sat there looking at them, she demurely lowered her gaze to the ground and prepared herself to wait for the panelists to arrive, remaining still as a statue. A few discreet glances a few minutes later showed her most people were glued to their smartphones, head bowed to the little screens, waiting as well for the event to start. More than a few were surely trying to sneak one or more pics of her, she thought, as per their surreptitious-looking poses with their mobiles.

Five minutes before 10 AM, a motorcade of black vans arrived behind the stage. Even more surly and burly security detail staff emerged first from the vehicles, with the characteristic black suits, scowls and shades. Then the personalities started emerging from the vehicles. Zava perked up, stretching her neck to peek at the newcomers. She smiled inwardly as she noted the deepening scowls as the security people noticed her impossible to ignore presence. However, she tried to appear as harmless as possible…

McAllister was speaking to the young woman who was hired as a professional photographer for the event, when the giantess came out of the hangar and stood. Although of course McAllister had seen Zava several times before, again he found himself staring, again, at the gargantuan young woman. She was dressed in a very flattering white, close-fitting gown reaching to her ankles, and a short, also white, long sleeved jacket on top of it; the long sleeves covered her wrist shackles. The jacket was left unbuttoned, exposing her neckline, which was covered in a lacey fabric, and she had a broad, also white girdle. Her hair was arranged in a low bun with artfully tousled locks that gave a slightly messy but charming air to her face, emphasizing her long, graceful neck. Despite the relative simple attire and lack of jewelry (except for the same gold earrings she always had on), she looked stunning, the white gown contrasting marvelously with her olive complexion.

He even caught himself staring open-mouthed at the divine apparition, forcing himself not to gape and closing his mouth. Looking around, he saw even the security people, sunglasses and all, had stopped all they were doing to look up in astonishment, and not only because of the size of the young woman, but because she positively glowed with magnetic, undeniable appeal.

Many of the people present had not seen her before in person, and never in an elegant ensemble such as the one she was now donning.  She was beautiful in the sweatpants and t-shirts she had worn till now when she came out of her refuge. Now, she indeed could be taken for a goddess, and standing below her, he knew he was not the only one that felt weak and puny in comparison.

She noticed the attention of everyone, but she even greeted everyone present with a genuine smile without an atom of either smugness or fear and asked, in her lilting English, if she could be seated… everyone was too dumbfounded to answer her, and McAllister did not want to appear a fool hollering from inside the stage… she realized nobody was going to respond, and simply took her seat gracefully, adopting a waiting posture with a tranquil demeanor worthy of a queen, eyes lowered. This Wilson is a lucky son of a gun, thought McAllister, not for the first time.

The photographer was one of the firsts to recover from Zava’s entrance, leaving McAllister to take some pics of the giantess and the whole scene…

A few minutes later, the motorcade with the committee members arrived.

 Doctor Ben Kahanoff got out of the black van he had ridden from the airport, blinking in the sun. He had come all the way from Berkeley and was truly ecstatic that he had finally managed to elbow his way into the committee; it was a close call and he only finally made it because Tyson (the default choice) had the flu and was, as always, gracious and helped him squeeze in, as he did not want to risk passing his flu to the alien visitress. This trip was the culmination of a lifetime of efforts as an astrophysicist, xenobiologist and a SETI expert. He was trembling with excitement and disbelief at the chance of a lifetime: being able to see up close, interact and actually speak to a sentient being from another planet!

He had to admit to himself that he was a skeptic when he first saw the news about the ‘giantess’, as the media now called her. It was all so outlandish that he was sure it was an internet prank. But then people started calling him, almost hysteric with excitement. The first of these, a SETI deserter, but nevertheless colleague and friend from NY’s Columbia’s University, Claudia Basile, was, by coincidence, in Martha’s Vineyard vacationing with her husband ‘s relatives and had seen the girl from up close, as his brother in law was the keeper from the lighthouse where the giant extraterrestrial woman first appeared.

She managed to get into the lighthouse before the police pickets were raised and was, therefore, able to follow the whole affair in first row, taking (and kindly sending him) pics taken with her telephoto lens of the events of that day, up to the moment where the giantess passed near the lighthouse on her way out of the area, waving at the people at the top of it, and Claudia was there, waving back. She assured Ben the woman, who now they knew was called Zava, was no prank. She was a living, breathing, and bewildered humanoid girl, if 80 feet tall. Claudia even touched her, before the police arrived. The giant female was flesh and blood, she swore him, giddy with enthusiasm.

Afterwards, Kahanoff saw, flabbergasted, that Zava could even speak English, for crying out loud! And Zava herself had admitted coming from beyond Earth. Kahanoff, having privileged information from Claudia, started following the events earlier than almost anyone. He even saw the Boston Globe and Mark Wilson’s videos and wasted no time in contacting him to offer his unconditional assistance and rallying his college colleagues, astronomers, physicists, sociologists, etc., and them their colleagues from all over the country and beyond. Soon the critical media and political mass to persuade the people in Washington that Zava had to be saved from the vivisection scalpel was gathered.

As he was chosen for the bombasticly named ‘First Contact Advisory Committee’, more interesting data was offered about the alien woman and more kept pouring in. If her size was not enough to prove she was not of this world, DNA chirality was reversed with that of Earth, making it almost undeniable that she was indeed an extra-terrestrial being, evolved in another planet; dozens of new gut flora organisms of a kind never before seen on Earth were discovered on the samples taken from her; her bones were not made only of calcium, but also of titanium, which was apparently much more abundant on her world than on Earth. More and more new interesting things were discovered about her biology. And there were so many interesting things to ask her about her world’s history and culture!

He did not wait for the security goons to indicate him the way. Counting on them being too busy fussing over the entitled and puffed-up politicians the committee was riddled with, he strode purposefully towards the stage. He soon was on it, leaning against the security railing that prevented the people on stage to plummet 20 foot into the airport’s tarmac. Kahanoff was overjoyed to be able to feast his eyes on the huge woman sitting in front of the stage.

Zava was not looking at him, as she was clearly more interested in the little drama unfolding as the self-proclaimed celebrities-du-jour of the committee pompously paced towards the stage, tailed, flanked and preceded by their inevitable entourage. Therefore, her comely head was turned towards the throng of people getting off the motorcade. Kahanoff saw the giantess’ face was lit with almost childlike awe and curiosity as she leaned her body towards the approaching little crowd to gawk. He supposed Zava would think of the scene as cute. Little people piping excitedly and prancing around like a tumult of living dolls in a diorama come to life before her.

The pictures and videos could not possibly do her justice, thought Kahanoff, heart rate picking up as he took in the giant figure of Zava Casafus, the otherworldly giantess. She was monumentally, breathtakingly beautiful. Her olive skin tone, raven dark hair, the quintessential feminine curve of her neck and shoulders, abundant and curvaceous (but not too much) bosom, her small ears, slender waist, firm, rounded hips and the firm swell of her obviously athletic legs, folded below her, capped by her lovely sandaled feet, were the personification of divine womanhood. In her white dress, she was poised, reclining in her seat like a giant Cleopatra holding court, with undeniable but effortless grace.

And then she turned her attention toward the stage, where he was almost the only person standing there, looking at her, the rest of the staff was at the back of it, ready to greet the other panelists. She locked eyes with him. He smiled instinctively, and she noticed, grinning back with her gleaming-white, three-foot wide smile,  also lifting her well-formed, slender hand to wave at him, Kahanoff responding in kind.

Her smile was infectious, radiant. Her presence glowed with a kind of stately, but approachable allure, like the goddess of sympathy. Her chocolate brown, enormous doe eyes brimmed with life, wit, and warm youth. There was absolutely zero guile in her beyond lovely mien. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let them draw and quarter, or even cage this lovely, giant bird… thought Kahanoff resolutely… he was going to help her fly free or die trying. They held each other’s gaze for a breathless instant.

Zava seemed to notice she was staring at him and lowered her eyes, becoming quiescent again. Kahanoff reluctantly tore his gaze from her and turned to watch the other panelists climbing onto the stage. They had never met before in person, though of course there had been several virtual meetings. The first to appear at the top of the stairs was, of course, Jonathan Chilton III. Kahanoff had disliked the man from the moment he first heard him speak in the first virtual meeting of the Committee.

Chilton was a US Congressman, a fact he loved to keep reminding everyone of several times in every conversation they had had. The man was the proverbial narcissist asshole, disproving the notion that politicians had to be charismatic to succeed. Every interaction Kahanoff had with the man revealed Chilton always had to be the first to speak, the loudest and had to have the final word on everything.

The disdainful glower he shot Kahanoff as he climbed to the stage clearly conveyed his vast disapproval at Kahanoff’s perceived uppity to be the first to arrive, as clearly (in Chilton’s mind, to be sure) he had the birthright to be always the first in line (for anything good, at least) and he was not happy with anyone trying to steal his thunder. Kahanoff simply rolled his eyes, eliciting a deeper scowl, the politician’s patrician head lifting his chin even more, his lips curving noticeably downwards, with a now unmistakably hostile glare.

Kahanoff ignored the fool and turned his attention to the rest of the people entering the stage. Behind Chilton, Amanda Kajitani, a noted psychologist from Cornell, appeared, smiling at Kahanoff, who walked to meet her and shake her hand. Behind her, Belinda Patel, the United States Secretary of State, and the inscrutable but kind Andreas Heckenlaible, the UN Secretary General (and former Chairman of the NATO Military Committee), no less, approached Kahanoff to greet him and greet each other, including the looming Chilton, who had in the meantime wasted no time to berate the aides for their alleged poor choice of brand for the water bottles.

The committee members did not take long in greetings, as everyone then turned to look at Zava, who, hands in her lap, had raised her eyes again, composedly surveying the scene. She smiled and nodded in acquiescence of everyone’s presence, they nodding in return, except, Kahanoff noted, not surprised, but annoyed nonetheless, for Chilton, who only frowned at Zava. Kahanoff reddened with shame and exasperation on behalf of Earth’s people at having a blundering churl such as Chilton snubbing the extraterrestrial girl so openly. His hopes that Zava hadn’t noticed the slight quickly vanished as Kahanoff saw her slightly lift an eyebrow while looking at the haughty politician, her face carefully neutral. She turned her lovely eyes to Kahanoff, who shrugged, ruefully. She rewarded him with a complicitous glint in her eye, accompanied by a slight upward curving of her lips and eyes crinkling at the corners.

The now seething Kahanoff knew, of course, that Chilton had been one of the most vocal (more like foaming-at-the-mouth) personalities hyping the purported ‘alien hoax’. He had bullied his way into the committee as a ‘voice of dissent’. It was also no secret he had presidential ambitions, which he blatantly expected to boost with his participation in the first contact events. Kahanoff, of course, had met his share of anti-science politicians, of which there were two sorts: the ones who sold their idiotic ideologies to morons gullible enough to believe them, but without swallowing them whole themselves, and the other kind, the most dangerous ones, who were stupid enough to believe them themselves, therefore being zealous to the point where no evidence would convince them otherwise. It was pointless to try to have a meaningful conversation with the latter kind, to which, Kahanoff was sure, Chilton belonged to.

Any attempt at civilized discourse with those would only end in shouting, name-calling and Bible-quoting. These zealots were also very persistent and had an equally ignorant follower base. Kahanoff knew this Chilton guy was going to be the proverbial stone in the shoe and Zava’s worst enemy. More worryingly, he had quite a few connections within the military, he had been told by a Washington friend.

Belinda Patel encouraged the panelists to take their seats. Of course, Chilton was in the center of the table, no doubt placed there by a discerning Patel, who knew he was liable to make a scene if his ego was not pampered a bit. There was a bottle of water for each panelist, along with a microphone, in the table, in front of each seat. One of Patel’s aides quickly brought a brand of a different, more expensive water bottle and exchanged it with the more generic brand in Chilton’s place, with an apologetic look at Heckenlaible, seated besides, who returned a beatifical but knowing smile. Everyone took their seat, including Kahanoff, who was placed in the right corner of the table, next to Kajitani, who in turn was next to Chilton. In the other extreme of the table Patel was at the corner and next to her and to Chilton, secretary Heckenlaible.

Kahanoff noted approvingly the camera crews and rigs around the stage, ready to capture every angle. The event was going to be streamed live, a triumph that had only been confirmed two days before, delaying the start of the audiences. He had worked tirelessly with his other colleagues and politician allies to convince the President of broadcasting the audience live. An unexpected ally on this had turned to be Patel, who agreed that in view of the increasing media noise about the ‘giantess issue’ and the incredulity of many, it was better to dispense entirely with secrecy and perform the audiences openly. The cat was out of the bag, anyway, and denying Zava’s alien-ness and trying to hide her would only increase suspicions and encourage the kooks, besides being ridiculous, given her size. She obviously was no military person, so there was little chance of starting an alien invasion panic, in which even the usually twitchy DHS and the military were quite unanimous on.

After everyone was settled, and a small drone cart had delivered an apple juice keg for Zava, the panel started.

“Good morning everyone” Said Patel into her microphone. “We now commence the first audience of the ‘First Contact Advisory Committee’. This committee was gathered by the Government of the United States of America, with the participation of the United Nations. The goals of this committee are manifold:

• First, to welcome the first extra-terrestrial visitor ever to come to Earth and to American soil,
• Second, clarifying how the visitor arrived to our planet and in American soil, and to determine the purpose of said visitor in coming to Earth.
• Third, to determine how -and if- this person can be integrated into American society”.

After a brief pause, Patel looked meaningfully at Heckenlaible, who continued:

“In more conventional circumstances, this committee’s audiences would be held in the United Nations General Assembly. But, given the patent differences in size between the visitor and the people of Earth, transportation, not to mention ingress of the visitor to the United Nation’s Headquarters is impossible, which is why this special committee was selected, and the audiences were decided to be held near the quarantine site.  As is customary, the one who arrives is the first to introduce herself or himself.” There was a small pause, after which Zava, nodding, realizing it was her cue, sweeping her eyes through the committee members, straightened in her seat and spoke in her tuneful cadence:

“My name is Zava Casafus-Djacome. Although I am 20 years old in my world’s reckoning, due to differences in the duration of our planet’s orbital cycle compared with that of Earth, I would be more like 23 years old on Earthly years. If you may, I would request that the members of the committee call me by my first name, Zava, as it is easier to pronounce”.

“Noted, Zava. Could you elaborate a little more about yourself?”, said Heckenlaible.

“I am a human female of the world I call Lur, known to the people of Earth that have visited it as ‘giantland’. Casafus is my father’s last name, and Djacome is my mother’s. I also come from what you would call the country of Bitagweh, and I used to live in the city of Hewtwango, where I was a college student attending the Electronic Engineering course; I was in my second year”.

“Do you identify yourself as human?” added Heckenlaible.

“Yes. That is how we identify ourselves in Lur”.

“Are the people of Lur aware of Earth’s… and its habitants’ existence?”

“The Earthlings were known in my world as ‘little people’… for obvious reasons. Before the Spindrift’s crew, there were a (very) few instances of tiny people being seen in centuries past, but with no conclusive proof. They were thought of as legendary creatures. On the other hand, after the Spindrift crew arrived, spottings were more frequent, and some managed to get pictures of them, albeit of low quality. In any case, the government of my country recognized they were real and offered a reward for any information conducing to capture of any little people. They were thought of as uncanny and dangerous. There was no consensus about their provenance nor their true intentions, however”.

“Thank you, Zava”. Said Heckenlaible. “I am Andreas Heckenlaible. I represent an assembly of the nations of Earth, called the United Nations. On behalf of the people of Earth, welcome to our planet. We are looking forward to knowing more about you on the coming sessions of this ‘First Contact Advisory Committee’. For your information, Zava, Sessions of this committee are transmitted live. Each member of the panel will introduce themselves”

“My name is Belinda Patel. I am the Secretary of State of the United States of America. My post relates to relations of my homeland with other countries”.

“I am Amanda Kajitani, from the Faculty of Psychology of the University of Cornell”

“I am Ben Kahanoff, astrophysicist and xenobiologist of the University of Berkeley, California. Nice to meet you, Zava”.

“And my name is Jonathan Chilton the Third. I’m a United States Congressman, of the House Committee on Homeland Security”. Chilton said this looking to his sides, again clearly giving Zava the cold shoulder, to Kahanoff’s further annoyance. “Wh-what are you doing?” said suddenly a clearly uneasy Chilton… as Zava leaned forward, getting her head closer to the stage and narrowing her eyes.

“Sorry, Mr. Shilton” said Zava “Just trying to read how your names are spelled in English, which I know of as ‘common northish’... those nameplates are awfully small, though… Oh, I see, it’s Chilton with a C., in your case. OK”. She leaned back into her reclining position.

The following hour went by as Zava was then questioned on her arrival on Earth, mostly by Kajitani and Kahanoff, and more occasional input from the others. There were only clearly incredulous grunts and barely concealed snorts and head-shaking from a silent Chilton, however. Kahanoff felt his face getting ever hotter, his anger now barely in check… he was a hairbreadth away from strangling the idiot Chilton, who was ruining one of the most important moments in humanity by his lack of manners and patent imbecility… he was not the only one being rubbed the wrong way by the senator’s incivility, as after a particularly derisive sound from Chilton, Zava, with a slight frown, interrupted one of her declarations and said:

“Sorry, Congressman Chilton. Have I said something wrong?”

Chilton, startled, seemed to struggle with addressing Zava directly. Finally, avoiding her steady gaze, he talked, addressing everyone and no one in particular:

“I have to admit, dear members of the Committee, and the fellow americans watching us, it is difficult to keep a straight face in the face, pardon the pun, of so many outlandish tales being churned out so glibly”.

“Do you have any alternate explanations about how this came to pass, and by ‘this’ I mean her obvious existence and her presence here?” Interjected an annoyed Kahanoff, unable to hold it any longer.

“I could offer many, but not one of them involve ‘aliens’ or a planet full of giant ‘humans’” he made quotation marks with his fingers. “It is indeed laughable that this charade has been allowed to continue this far… phsew!”

“Enlighten us then!!” growled Kahanoff.

“Obviously the American public is being taken for fools! Who can believe this nonsense? Giant women from another planet? Puh-lease!!!”  He stood up, getting increasingly worked up. “This is probably one of the stupidest, most blatant hoaxes in history!! Fake news!!! Clearly, we have a clever group of people behind this giant puppet in front of me! I admit it would be interesting to see how they are trying to pull this ridiculous stunt. But as a public servant, I find it my duty to expose this as a waste of taxpayer’s money and time from all the personalities in this committee”. With this, he walked to the back of the stage, descended the stairs and turned, walking briskly towards Zava, but avoiding her eyes.  On the stage, Patel stood up and said:

“Congressman Chilton! What the f… What are you doing? Please do not breach the quarantine!”

Kahanoff could see Zava, on her part, was sitting very still, hands in her lap and eyebrows raised, looking with a mix of uncertainty and amusement to the belligerent little man approaching her, trailed by two security staff, following him uncertainly a few feet behind. Kahanoff was filled with trepidation… he hoped Zava handled the situation well, there was nothing he could do to help her… or Chilton, for that matter, should Zava decide to do something to him.

Chilton reached Zava just in front of her knees, covered by her gown. She was sitting, as we said, on her side. Her knees protruded just a little beyond the cushion she was on. Kahanoff watched as the giantess looked down quizzically on the little person bearing down on her. The congressman avoided her gaze studiously, but started to tug at her gown, clearly agitated.

“Er… excuse me?” Said Zava in disbelief.

The congressman ignored her, yelling, increasingly franticly:

“Fake! Fake! Fake!”

Zava saw, more entertained than offended, that Chilton did not manage, with his feeble tiny person’s strength, though, to really move the many yards of the garment. In his frenzy and frustration, suddenly, he kicked her knee.

“Hey! That was uncalled for!” said Zava, indignantly, but careful not to speak too loud, as she did not want to look threatening. “What the heck are you trying to do? Here, if you want to see some leg, little man, I’ll give you more than you can handle!”  Raising her legs a little, Zava rolled up her gown so her knees and part of her thighs showed. She grasped and looked at the part of her gown that had received the kick, frowning as she saw some dirt stuck to it from the little man’s shoe.

Chilton had stood as if thunderstruck when he saw Zava’s enormous hands approaching him, calming a little when he saw the giantess only intended to manipulate her dress. And once her legs were exposed, he gaped, open mouthed, unsure of what to do. Zava, annoyed, loomed over Chilton, looking down on him.

“Let me tell you, congressman… I’m no one’s puppet, I’m no poppet and… I assure you, I am a real woman, and as anatomically correct as they come. Do you REALLY need to check?  Knock yourself out… you’ll see I’m no fake, little man”.

As she said this, she kneeled on her seat, and spread her legs a little, calculating so that the surrounding camera rigs did not have a shot at her crotch, but it was full in view of the tiny bully in front of her knees. Chilton’s jaw dropped even further at what he saw.

“Go for it, tiny, I’m giving you permission to get in there yourself and do whatever you have to see, touch and do so you are convinced I’m as human as you are”.

As she said this, Chilton’s gaze turned to her eyes from between her legs, where, though dark, he had seen indeed, as Zava was wearing no underwear, that she was no doll. Zava’s gaze was not really annoyed, unflustered, but not unkind. She certainly did not feel threatened in the least bit by whatever the tiny Earthling might do to her. They locked eyes for ten seconds… ten very awkward seconds… and then, unmanned, Chilton turned red as a beetle and stalked back towards his car, followed by Kahanoff’s sardonic, very loud laughter…

Zava, pensive, watched as the senator, oblivious to the words of the Secretary of State’s aides’ words of ‘quarantine’… practically dove into his vehicle and, followed by his entourage, stormed out of sight. Uneasy, she was sure she had made an enemy today.

Mark was relieved when, after he finally was let go, he walked in the cool dusk towards his hangar home with Zava.

From the beginning it was pretty clear the Committee was not as interested in what he had to say that it was about Zava’s session, being conducted outside. Once in front of the panelists, Mark was asked to surrender his cell phone and his earpiece, therefore erasing any hope that the secret channel he thought he had with Zava had gone unnoticed (or untapped) and confirming Mark’s suspicions that they were being snooped on all the time.

This measure was, he was told in a surprising show of candor from the DHS chief, that they needed to be sure (and confirm to the public at large, as the sessions were being streamed live in a parallel YouTube channel to Zava’s) that he was not some kind of puppet master, either controlling Zava remotely somehow, or telling her what to say. He was also assured that there was no way to transmit wirelessly any kind of signal outside the room they were in. The broadcast cameras used to transmit his interrogation were all wired to external antennae.

Most of the questions were to be expected, and at the beginning most were of the gaps in the knowledge the government had of the fate of the Spindrift and its passengers and crew for the years it was missing. This took some hours to get through. Then he had to describe the giant’s society and whether they were aware of the Spindrift place of origin, and if the giants were capable of traveling earthward, something he, truthfully, told them was unlikely, as the Lurites did not have any knowledge about the wormhole’s existence, nor the capacity to reach it, and therefore also were ignorant of where it led.

To his relief, and doubtless thanks to the fact that the panel was being transmitted live, questions about the nature of his and Zava’s relationship were tactful and did not cross the line into perverse curiosity. Nevertheless, by the looks some of the panelists gave him, he was sure they had listened to the recordings of the conversations (and other things going on) between Zava and him inside the hangar. Mark tried not to think too much about that…

When his cell phone was returned to him, he quickly skimmed through several dozen Twitter notifications in which a congressman in Zava’s panel was being thoroughly roasted for his ridiculous stunts, many praising Zava for her restraint and witty handling of the situation, demolishing the man with only words, without even touching him. The congressman had even fled the panel only to be brought back forcibly by Homeland Security to force him to take the mandatory quarantine cleaning…  Mark frowned as he saw a pic of the man kicking her... fucking idiot…

To his relief, after several tedious hours of questioning, he reached and opened the personnel door into a dark hangar where his giant lover would be waiting… how he longed to see her! Outside, he had seen the stage where Zava’s session was taking place was deserted, as was the cushion they had prepared for her. Curious, he looked into the hangar, where there was no sign of Zava. He stepped through the door and walked to the light switch, turning it on.

Zava was straddling the doorway in a wide stance, knees bent and her elbows propped on her thighs, close to her knees. She was completely undressed. Her exposed slit loomed above him, as did her hanging, quivering breasts. Her eyes were burning with desire, betrayed further by her lower lip being bit in an unmistakably sensual gesture. When he saw he was watching her, her left hand moved to her sex, the right one to her mouth, where she moistened her index finger. The right hand descended and joined the other, both hands obscenely peeling her intimate flesh open for his eyes, deftly moving her folds out and downwards so her throbbing, moist sex hole was clearly visible to her tiny viewer below. Somehow, he thought, her mons, covered by her trimmed, but nevertheless long landing strip of her remaining pubes only made the spectacle more raw and sexy than if it had been bare.

Then her moistened finger started going in circles over her undeniably engorged clit hood, flipping it this way and that, eliciting tremors on her body that in turn provoked maddeningly erotic swaying motions on her pendulous tits, capped by foot-long perky nipples.

Mark was transfixed by the view he was being treated to… Zava’s finger traveled at intervals to her glistening vaginal opening to scoop the fluids brimming there, to continue her adept clitoral manipulation…

“Strip”. She suddenly ordered, commandingly, clearly unable to be very articulate with her mounting lust. He of course complied, kicking his garments aside hastily.

By then, her middle finger had descended and plunged into her to the last knuckle, pumping in and out, spraying onto Mark tiny droplets of her juices with each thrust. Zava’s female musk, stirred from her squelching sex by her frantic fingers, washed over him, driving him crazy with sexual craving, his eyes glued to Zava’s sensual show for his benefit. Her hands left her pussy and went to the ground, propping her giant body as she, teasingly, started lowering her crotch over Mark, almost touching him, before raising it up again. Her hanging, quavering tits were as an alluring canopy over him, her open mouth and even her smooth armpits above, contributed to emphasize her complete nakedness and lewd intent.

She reached out to the side and retrieved from somewhere his silk lifeline and oxygen mask, dropping them from above. It was his cue. He caught them in the air and tied the black silk around his armpits, leaving ten feet or so trailing on the floor, donning the mask with trembling fingers. When she saw he was prepared, Zava then crouched over him, her pussy descending from above. Her right hand also descended, palm up, as an elevator, until it touched the ground. He stepped on her hand and it indeed began lifting him bodily towards her waiting snatch.

His raised, awaiting face made contact with her moist creases. His hands contacted her labia, to each side of her hood, and his mouth was immediately licking and scraping at her clit avidly, encouraged more and more by her needy whimpers, as he spent several minutes servicing her like this.

Her trembling hand then skillfully but relentlessly guided him downwards to her leaking opening, and hungrily, slowly, inserted him into her wet cavity, relishing every inch of his hard, manly body as it rubbed and stretched out her waiting cunt, as her breath caught with the sheer pleasure of the penetration she craved. She then pulled him out slowly from his lifeline and repeated this movement many times, getting him completely out at intervals, so she could maximize the length of his body rubbing against the inner walls of her insatiable chasm.

Not long after, she hastily got him out and deposited him on the ground, as her hands then flew to her mouth to keep in check what otherwise would have been thunderous moans of uncontainable pleasure exploding inside her. Her cunt and asshole, a couple of meters above him, throbbed and spasmed uncontrollably, as she gasped with a mind-blowing orgasm. She remained like this for several seconds… then her trembling hand descended, picked him up and carried him with her to their bed, where she slumped to the ground, lying on her left side and depositing Mark near her eyes, which were teeming with love, affection and satisfaction.

Mark was now standing on her pillow, naked before her enormous eyes. He focused on her left eye, wide open, moving up and down, clearly enjoying giving his body a full, approving scrutiny. Seeing her giant, blinking eyeball moving inside her eye socket from so close looking at him was at the same time disturbing and morbidly exciting. He saw her pupil narrowing as she focused intently, then on his face, then on his member, staring at it with her characteristic intensity, because she loved his cock.

Many a time in their time in giantland he had woken up to find Zava already awake, lazily fondling his member in her fingers with infinite care, her face very close to him, eyes intent on his manhood, or sometimes her face even closer, so she could better enjoy his nakedness. She even had asked permission to look at his manhood with her magnifying glass as she milked him, tactfully avoiding any jokes relative to his dick’s size (it was the smallest in that world, of course, what was the point?), assuring him that she only wanted to look at it better, to better appreciate it and pleasure him without hurting him. Her clever fingers were even able to play with his foreskin, sometimes edging him for a long time before his seed finally spurted out. She never tired of seeing it.

Now, Mark walked towards Zava’s eye, which closed, as he was so close she could not focus on Mark’s body. He pressed his body to her face, his warm cock laying on her upper eyelid, prompting a pleasured sigh from Zava. Her fluttering eyelashes tickled his balls as he used his hand to rub his member on Zava’s infinitely soft eyelid, leaving traces of precum on her.  Zava’s head receded in her pillow so she could look at him comfortably again, and her hand appeared, index and thumb pinching delicately at his penis, she clearly enjoying the feel of his hard prick in her fingertips. Her eyes were now locked into his as she skillfully manipulated his manhood to release with him standing, barely held buy his trembling legs. They stared into each other eyes up to the moment when he exploded, her eyes then crinkling at the corners with joy, after this happy ending she brought about.

Mark was sitting atop of one of the scaffolds near the door. They no doubt were used to clean the high, stained glass windows and change lightbulbs when they went out. Several weeks had passed. Several long, boring weeks of answering panel questions and helping Zava fill online forms. But they had made it. Today was the early morning of their last day of quarantine. And he had several surprises for Zava today. Good ones.

He was looking at his giant girlfriend, sleeping naked on her side, legs slightly curled in a semi-fetal   position. Her backside was facing him, and, of course, he could stare with delight and abandon at the bulging folds of her vulva, peeking from within her tightly closed thighs; from his vantage point, he could not see her face, as it was blocked by her monumental, shapely ass in full display. He was waiting for her to wake up.  He did not have to wait long, as she started to stir and soon she spread one of her legs, her right knee high in the air, her left leg still flat on the ground on its side, her ass shuffling on the mat.

He watched, fascinated, as her movements spread her labia open, folds peeling away from each other, displaying more of her intimate flesh, surrounded by the slightly hairy fleshy cushions of her ungroomed vulva.  They had neglected to get rid of her pubes for a while, so they could do so at the end of her quarantine, which meant he would have to help her with that today, he guessed. His eyes widened as he saw her hand appearing between her legs, sliding lazily towards her crotch. But the sexy mood was soon a tad ruined as he could not help but laugh out loud as she started to scratch her labia, much like when he scratched his balls. Loud scraping sounds as her fingernails collided with her incipient pubes could soon be heard. Surely the hair growth down there was getting itchy.

“Mark?” her sleepy voice was soon heard. She closed her legs self-consciously as she heard him laugh.

“Up here” he hollered. Her eyes peeked from beyond her knees, quickly locking on him.

“What are you doing up there, you little perv?”

“I beg your pardon? You stuff me each night in your top and make me nuzzle and lick your nipple to sleep by grabbing my head between your fingers through the fabric, and on top of that you sleep bottomless with your big pussy in the air… and I’m the perv?” retorted Mark as he climbed down the scaffold and walked towards her. Zava answered:

“You’ve got a point there… and if I did not know you would not survive the experience I would love to fall asleep every night with you stuffed… elsewhere. I guess I’m the biggest perv here, both literally and figuratively”. Her hand darted to her crotch and she resumed scratching her nether regions unabashedly.

“Getting itchy down there, are you?”

“I can’t stand it! Gonna help me with that today, babe?”

“You know I love to”. He reached the back of her thighs and started walking along towards her butt, running his fingers lightly against her skin. He could see (and hear) her hand scratching away up there. She twitched slightly as she felt his infinitely soft touch on her skin and the scratching subsided.

“Mmmmm…” she purred as he walked up the back of her thigh, caressing along and reaching her buttocks, covered by transparent, delicate and very short fuzz. He continued along her buttock, reaching her back and continuing along until he climbed her pillow and plunged into her dark mane, crawling through her fragrant locks until he made contact with her nape, covering her with kisses. She giggled and tried to fish him from her hair with her fingers, he squirming away until she caught him. She sat up and brought him before her eyes. A finger pad of her free hand fondled the bulge in his briefs briefly and then he put him down on the ground between her crossed legs, near her crotch. She looked down at him mischievously.

How I love to see him down there! I’m getting more than a little dewy down there just from having him so close…

Mark got closer to her crotch and lightly grabbed one of her inchoate pubic hairs to the side of her labia, near to where her left thigh started. To her it was a fraction of an inch, but to him it was almost two inches long, and it ended in a sharp-looking bezel, quite nastily sharp, as a matter of fact, from the last time he had shaved her there. He ran his thumb lightly into the tip. She twitched a little.

“That tickles” In a good way! Touch me a little to your left, love… I love your little hands on me… But his response to her sudden movement was less than sexy.

“Yikes!” he muttered, recoiling, holding his hand with his other one.

“What’s the matter?” she said, concerned. “If you make any jokes about the smell… I swear I’m gonna…”

Mark burst into laughter.

“No, dear, it’s just that I cut myself with one of your hairs… it has a slanting cut and it sliced right through my thumb as you jolted when I grabbed it”. He raised his hand to show her. It was surprisingly bloody, a thin crimson stream running down his hand and well on its the way to his elbow. Yikes indeed! She thought in dismay at this unwelcome reminder of his fragility. I was just about to lower my hand to mash his hard little body onto my coochie on an impulse… I could have put out his eye or punctured an artery in his neck… I guess I’ll have to get one of those laser treatments I’ve seen the ads on YouTube of... She was indeed very horny as she was just out of her period and she had not felt his touch down there in days…

“Oh no… my poor baby”. She scooped him up and kissed his injured, bloody hand, licking up his blood and sucking lightly on it with her lips. Mark groaned with pleasure as her wet, tender ministrations sucked his arm up to the elbow into her steamy mouth. She could feel his dick getting hard as his midsection rubbed against her chin. Her lips curved upwards. She took him out of her mouth and he was sitting in her cupped hands in front of her face.

“Feeling better?” she said.

“Bleeding’s stopped” he raised his arm to show her, grinning. She smiled back at him, her eyes trailing off to the bulge on his crotch. I’ll make it up to you, love. She lowered him to the ground.

“I’ve got an idea. Grab the camera, babe… and strap it to your head… I’m going to compensate you for the blood loss…”.

A few instants later, a now naked Mark approached her with the camera attached to his forehead with a headband. The images it was capturing were already being projected onto the wall. She looked amazed at her body from his perspective. She was facing him, kneeling on the ground, sitting on her heels, Japanese-like, legs spread slightly. He advanced between her thighs until he was midway to her crotch and then looked up. Zava saw on the screen the underside of her breasts (they look enormous!), her long nipples erect with arousal, and the underside of her chin and her nostrils. Then Mark advanced more and she could see how her pubes were long enough that now that Mark was almost touching her pussy, they obscured his vision of her face, and when he looked up he could see only her hairy mons with some stubble on the edges. Yep. Definitely time for some grooming. She thought, scrunching up her nose in distaste.

Then, her eyes on the screen, she saw again from his viewpoint as her giant hand  snaked down over him, her enormous fingers closing ominously around the camera , blocking the light. The images on the screen were dizzily changing as he was lifted into the air while she was changing position so one of her legs was bent under her and the other was with her knee in the air, in front of her face. She deposited Mark atop her knee. With one hand she grabbed her knee and with her other hand she delicately held Mark’s feet so he did not plummet down from up there.

She could see her mischievous smile on the screen from Mark’s perspective as she got her face closer to him, until she could only see on the screen the tip of her nose, her smiling, lightly parted lips and Mark’s lower abdomen and cock from his POV, standing to attention. As she was so close to his body that her eyes could not really focus on it, she instead looked at the screen to guide her actions. She stuck out the tip of her tongue and started teasing his cock with it, batting it this way and that and running it on the underside of her member.

Fuck, this is so hot! She thought, her eyes glued to the screen as she continued to edge her tiny lover’s manhood’s frenulum with her tongue tip. The camera’s POV allowed her to see perfectly what she was doing, much better than her usual POV, and quite successfully, judging from the needy groans scaping his lips, amplified by the camera’s microphone into the big speakers he had installed. Her smile grew wider and she started to open her mouth more, sticking her tongue out. He was bucking against her, his tiny hands pressing against her upper lip for support. She reveled in lifting his tiny ball sac with her tongue tip, feeling each individual testicle rolling under her teasing, and she licked his cock, pressing it against his abdomen, twirling her tongue tip delicately on its head.

Then she sucked his penis lightly into her mouth and started to move her head delicately back and forth so his manhood slid in and out of her puckered lips. She could see his hips pumping away on the screen, seeing from his POV as he was fucking her lips. Mark and Zava were groaning in unison now. She had an enormous thrill as she could feel his tiny manhood throbbing in the middle of her lip’s sloppy embrace, his tiny balls slapping her lower lip and the burning contact of the skin of his legs and abdomen against her lips as he fucked her mouth, along with his tiny hands caressing her upper lip… incredibly sexy. Any moment now…

She could feel he was about to come, so she opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, caressing the underside of his prick with the very tip of her tongue, moving it sideways quickly. Soon, she saw, magnified on the screen, delighted, his seed shooting from his palpitating member. She could see on the screen her own lips’ corners twisting upwards as the last spurts of his semen shot out, while his cock was lying wetly on her tongue. She pressed her lips against his crotch, kissing and sucking lightly on his depleted cock and caressing his balls with her tongue, as her fingertips caressed his buttocks, supporting her tiny lover as she continued to enjoy the feeling of his hot, dripping penis sliding against her lips as she saw it happening, simultaneously projected before her… I can’t get enough of this… She could feel Mark’s whole body trembling as she saw his junk, dwarfed by her mouth, glistening with her saliva, lolling around on her lips while she moved her head slightly sideways back and forth to feel him up.

***

A while later Zava was combing her hair carefully. She had lathered her crotch, taint and ass crack with shaving cream. She was still kneeling like a geisha, but with legs lightly spread. Mark, naked, as she insisted he was, was also on his knees and at work down under her with a straight razor he stropped from time to time on a leather strip he had handy beside. He soon shaved most of her vulva and was now working his way towards her anus. He smiled as he could see now from up close and personal her most intimate parts twitching as his clever fingers groomed her. Her pussy hole was pulsating and leaking so much that his chest, shoulders and back were slick with strings of clear womanly juice that still slowly but steadily flowed out of her. He reached her asshole and he delicately propped one hand against its ridgy surface. More light came in as Zava took her cue and she put both her hands on the side of her buttocks, spreading them to give Mark full access to her crack, moaning softly.

Mark watched in awe as the tons of tender buttflesh above him was forced apart and set to deftly trim the few hairs growing around her pulsating asshole with the razor. Mark first ran his fingertips along some of the scant small but rigid hairs he could see around, eliciting a shudder of excitement of her giant ass and a low moan. He could feel the palpitating of her anus under his fingers. He finished getting rid the last hairs, closed the straight razor, set it aside and started running his index finger along her asshole in delicate circles, teasing her very hole lightly, smiling as it clenched. Zava positively groaned with need. He moved his caresses through her taint, her whole body shuddering almost violently, and he soon got to her vaginal opening. Her heavy breathing betrayed her escalating lust.

Zava now was almost desperate to feel her little man squirm up her cunt. When she spread her buttocks apart to allow him to trim the hair around her anus, she could feel also her pussylips parting hungrily. She slid her fingers down her buttocks a little more, and as she felt Mark had finished shaving her, she closed the distance with her fingers under her and spread her womanhood apart with both hands on each side of her cleft, hoping he took the hint…

Her face flushed, she felt a little (just a little self-conscious) of having him under her body so close to her dirty places, not wanting to think of the smell he must be perceiving. She was addicted to the unbelievably delicious, immodest feeling of having a little man… My man… squirming around in her vagina… her own living, talking, loving human dildo climbing up and inside. Ohhh… I want to just grab him and stick him in there… Hearing him talk while being submerged bodily into her cavities sent her over the edge…. She was planning to urge him to do so soon…

She had also had this dark fantasy lately of being outside fully dressed, but with him inserted feet first inside her pussy, only his head sticking out of her so he could breathe, as she walked around and talked to other tinies, but only Mark and Zava would know he was inside her, supported by her panties so he did not slid out… it was like the ultimate exhibitionist sexual act… yet still private, only between Mark and her. Her cunt spasmed hard just to think about it.

“Mark…. I need you… please… please…” she whimpered, not daring to say out aloud what she wanted to really say: Get inside me NOW… up my cunt… lick, bite, struggle in there… and don’t come out until I’m screaming… she had dropped her comb long ago…

Mark heard Zava’s request as he looked up amazed at his girlfriend’s giant sex. Her fingers had appeared to both sides of her slit, spreading her obscenely, wet sounds being heard as her innards were forced apart. Crazy with lust, he approached her convulsing opening and started licking at the opening, drinking up her abundant juice. She grunted as his tiny tongue cruised around her pussy hole, his tiny hands pushing it open… and not long afterwards Mark was pushing his way inside her… her pussy hole was low enough that he was able to enter her by just pushing on the ground with his legs, forcing his body to enter her waist high into her cunt… he squirmed with his strong arms until he climbed all the way inside her. She clenched involuntarily, gasping when she could feel him turning inside her, so his head was pointing now outside and he managed to climb out until he was only waist-deep again. When he was out again, Mark saw her fingers had found their way to her clit, which was being rubbed furiously…. she was panting. She climaxed not long after, her pulsating inner walls spitting him out into her waiting palm.

After a much-needed bath, and as he dressed himself Mark looked at the time on his cell phone. 9AM. The day before, Zava and Mark had been notified by email that at 9:30 both were expected to attend near the stage where Zava’s panels had taken place. No hint was given, however, of the reason for the meeting. Mark had been informed by Kahanoff, the astrophysicist, of the reason, and after that he himself had some good news to give to Zava, who was now understandably chafing under the long confinement and the long days of paperwork and questioning. He looked at Zava, who was already dressed and putting some makeup on, aided with the projection on the wall of her face, zoomed in to even more gigantic proportions than usual to help her give precise touches to her makeup. The news will have to wait until after the last panel, though, thought Mark.

After Chilton had been expelled from the Committee, things had been relatively smooth for Zava, and there were really no big issues. Mark and Zava were now confident they would be let go into a less restrictive life in California. In fact, Mark had been assured by Kahanoff that would happen today, which is why he had made other preparations, which were part of the surprises he had for Zava. Support for her in the media had soared after Chilton’s blunders.

The man had become a laughing stock to the media and social networks alike, his presidential campaign collapsing completely as everyone but the most strident donors, withdrew their support and endorsement, in all respects and purposes killing his political ambitions, for good. He refused to resign from his congress post, however, and he was wise enough to keep a low profile after his public embarrassment. Mark hoped it stayed that way.

So, it was that at 9:25, Zava and Mark were already in front of the stage. Zava was sitting cross-legged, with Mark sitting atop her left knee. She was wearing a loose, long, light yellow gown and had her hair in a braid, which now hung on her right shoulder.

Patel, the Secretary of State, soon climbed on the stage, trailed by Kahanoff, and a plethora of aides; Dr. Poole and McAllister were there, too. The long table used in the panels was now gone and a lectern with a slim microphone was in place, and a few chairs were on the back. The camera crews and drones were around, too. Unlike before, stairs had been fitted to the front of the stage, allowing access from there, instead of from the back, as when the quarantine was in place.

At 9:30 sharp, Patel climbed onto the lectern and started speaking.

“Hello, fellow Americans, and people of Earth. On behalf of the people of the United States of America, I would like to thank Mr. Mark Wilson and Ms. Zava Casafus-Djacome for their patience and cooperation during the long days of the panel sessions from the ‘First Contact Advisory Committee’…”

As politicians are wont to do, Patel kept droning on, Zava barely keeping from letting a loud sigh of anticipated boredom, trying to keep a politely interested expression on her face, aware that many cameras were focused on her reactions. This time, she had black, tight shorts under her skirt, to avoid flashing anyone, in case she was asked to stand or walk around. There was a cold breeze. Zava, as usual, warmed her hands by rubbing them on her wrist shackles, which got noticeably warmer every time she moved her arms. When she wanted them to be even warmer, wriggling her hands did the trick, as she now tried to do unobtrusively to combat the cold in her hands. Today the shackles got warmer a little faster than usual, and soon she stilled her hands before the restraints became uncomfortable. As Patel’s speech continued, Zava got the sensation, however, that they kept getting warmer despite her hands being still…

***

On the back of the stage, McAllister, eyes glazed, was thinking of lunch as Secretary Patel was finishing her long-winded speech (he had seen the drafts when they were trying the teleprompter, so he knew it was approaching the climax and was looking forward to it), when Major Restrepo nudged him and whispered.

“Sir, can we speak in private, please? Now…?”

McAllister turned to look at his assistant, and his slight annoyance turned to worry as he saw the usually unflappable woman pale and wide eyed. Knowing this had to be grave, he motioned her with a nod to follow him and walked down the back stairs of the stage, trying to be inconspicuous. Nobody payed them any attention. As soon as they were far from any sound technician or aide, McAllister said:

“What’s the matter, major?” Restrepo had been clutching her tablet, knuckles white, taking frequent glances at it as they walked off the stage.

“Sir… in the last few minutes, we have intercepted and blocked several wireless attempts to commandeer the walking drones, so I completely shut them down to avoid any chances of that happening”.

McAllister gasped. Two of the tough armored and armed bipedal robots were now (and had been for the entire month of the panel sessions) near the stage, covered but ready to unleash a veritable firestorm of armor-piercing, depleted .50 uranium slugs onto the body of the giantess should she attack, something that now, after getting to know Zava better, seemed utterly ridiculous, but security protocols were strict. If someone was able to control them and fire upon Zava and the personalities on the stage, it would be an unfathomable disaster…

“Who could be doing this?” he muttered.

“I’m afraid it would have to be a member of the American military, that is, us, Sir. The only reason they could not take full control is that we had them in stand-by and not full at the ready because we know they can cause interference with sound equipment when on, and therefore were slow to start from the remote command, giving me time to react and cut the remote access off. Now we would have to go near them and manually switch them on. However, we have not been able to trace the signal, as it was broadcast from space. The activation protocol and signals, however, were unmistakably American. If any foreign government had hold of this, we would be completely helpless to defend ourselves. It is most likely an inside job”.

McAllister shuddered. This was of course a disturbing development. The only reason to commandeer such deadly weapons would be to mow down Zava,  as shooting puny humans with the unwieldy robots and tank-killing ammo would be overkill. He had a grim suspicion of who could have the connections (and motive) to pull off something as this, feeling sick to his stomach that anyone could be so vindictively petty, so murderous and at the same time powerful enough to engage in such acts, obviously pretty sure that they could be performed with perfect impunity on innocents, and Zava, an extra-terrestrial, was utterly innocent of the intrigues of spiteful, narrow-minded humans. He was dimly aware of Patel’s speech continuing in the background, as his brain leapt to a disquieting thought.

“Check the stats on the carbon restraints”, he said. Restrepo did so, and paled even more.

“Inner temperature is slowly but steadily rising, colonel”. Looking up in despair at McAllister, Restrepo added: “I cannot shut them down… we have been shut off… since yesterday’s evening, according to the access logs… they could go off any second, the four of them!”

***

“… and that is why I am honored to be here to declare that Zava Casafus-Djacome, of the planet Lur, has successfully and uneventfully completed the required 30 days of Quarantine, and is now free to go home with her fiancée. Also, as the first friendly extra-terrestrial sentient being to come to Earth and the United states in peace, I am pleased to announce that she has been granted an eb-1 visa, which allows her to petition for permanent residency if she wishes to remain in this country, where she is in any case, most welcome. Zava, congratulations!”, ended Patel’s speech.

Zava, concentrating on keeping her stage face on, was distracted (also thinking of lunch, like McAllister) and almost missed the last part of the speech, but she came together and gasped as she caught on the good news. The twenty or so people in the stage got to their feet and clapped and cheered, loudly. Patel was handed by an aide a meter-wide copy of an EB-1 visa which she took and then she climbed down the stairs with it, approaching Zava. When she was about ten meters from her, she paused, and Zava, taking the hint, smiled and extended her left hand and took the card, extending her right pinkie so an also smiling and clearly pleased Patel could mimic a handshake with it. Patel’s hand, unlike Mark’s, was so thin and delicate as to be almost insubstantial.

“Thank you! I…”  But she did not finish, as she saw McAllister approach almost at a run and give her a doleful look as he shouted into the loudspeaker he was holding:

“Red Gulliver!!!”

***

All hell broke loose. Mark saw Patel’s bodyguards appearing seemingly from nowhere. They bodily lifted the bewildered Secretary off her feet and carried her away from Zava, running. The people on the stage scrambled off the back stairs. Even the perimeter soldiers took off at full pelt, looking for cover. To his credit, McAllister stood his ground.

“What’s going on?” said Mark. Zava was speechless with bewilderment. She had no clue what was taking place.

“I’m sorry, Wilson” Said McAllister, muttering into his loudspeaker. “The carbon restraints on Zava have been remotely hacked and can explode at any second. I’m going to have to ask you to step away from her and come with me while we try to deactivate them manually”.

“Hacked? What do you mean?”

“I’ll explain later. Zava, please let Mark get to a safe place while we sort this out”.

A grim-looking, tight-lipped Zava, without giving time for Mark to protest, quickly grabbed him off her knee and put him next to McAllister, and then, just as fast, stood up and stepped away, looking around to find a place where she could hunker so the possible explosion did not harm anyone but her.

“Zava, no!!!!” Said Mark, trying to shake McAllister off. The colonel, aided by two burly airmen, was trying to drag him away, but Mark was too strong to be easily subdued. McAllister knew there was no way to manually deactivate the bracelets, despite what he said. If they could not regain remote control soon, and it was very unlikely they could do it in time, they would go off.

Zava managed to get about 100 meters away in a few long steps in a space between hangars, when she felt the bracelets and ankle manacles get almost unbearably hot, and they started emitting a high keening sound. She crouched down, her back to Mark, and she crossed her arms over her chest, to keep the force of the explosion away from him, shielding it with her body. Turning her head to Mark, tears streaming down her cheeks, ruining her carefully applied makeup, she managed to say…

“Mark!”

I love you!

… Before a blinding flash made everyone close their eyes. An earsplitting explosion was heard, followed with an equally deafening scream of anguish from the giantess. The shockwave swept McAllister, Restrepo, the airmen, Mark and everyone close off their feet.

Mark, ears ringing, was the first to be on his feet afterwards; he felt as if he was kicked in the chest by a horse: his ribs hurt. The bottom fell out of his stomach as he saw Zava sprawled, motionless, on the tarmac, covered in flames all over. Her body, plastered in what obviously was napalm or something similar, was ablaze with three-feet high rolling flames in some places. Black Smoke covered most of her lying figure, and he could not see her head or face, and he was not sure he wanted to… a feeling of hideous, nightmarish unreality swept over Mark as he shambled, more than jogged, near the remains of his fiancée. The tarmac was cracked in places and the asphalt was running like black butter under her because of the terrific heat. He was oblivious to the sounds of the airport firefighting trucks approaching.

The heat was so great, that he could not get any closer than 15 meters to her body, black smoke billowing and covering what was left of her, the rest that he could see was covered by the bright, unrelenting flames. He fell to his knees… he caught sight of part of one of her sandals near him, ripped by the explosion. It did not even get to catch flame.

“It can’t end like this… it can’t…” he mumbled, unable to sob, unable to weep from utter shock. The first fire truck, a gigantic red truck, dwarfed, however by Zava’s motionless, flaming and smoking bulk, arrived with screaming tires and immediately started spraying foam and water all over. Soon five more engines, just as large, were at work, rapidly dousing the blaze.

McAllister approached. “I’m so, so sorry Mark…” he managed to say. Mark turned to him, and, astonished, saw the hardened official weeping openly as he looked dejectedly at Zava’s remains. “I failed to prevent this, but…. All I can do is swear to you that I will not rest until the person... s responsible for this atrocity are brought to justice”. Mark saw Kahanoff approaching as well, and others behind him, but he was past caring.

Mark did not answer. He was mortally tired, tired of life itself, tired of the world, tired of humankind. McAllister, however, had said the only thing that could motivate him to keep living. The colonel was right. This evil could not be left unpunished. And he had a pretty good idea of who was responsible… even if he could not prove it, Chilton was going to pay… dearly, but not with his life: there were worse things than death, like the empty remaining lifetime ahead of him without Zava, made even more horrible by the memory of her ghastly, totally undeserved demise. He was vaguely aware that the camera crews had also approached to film the scene, including him. The fire trucks were almost finished… the smoke was drifting off.

Mark did not want to see the charred remains of his beloved, but it felt wrong, cowardly, even, to just walk away without seeing what was left of her. He now started to seethe with the thirst for justice or vengeance, whichever came first… as he steeled himself to take a last look at what remained of her surely ravaged face… he stood up…. he thought she saw her blackened, looming form twitch and…

“Mark?” Zava’s sweet, melodious voice boomed, freezing everyone in place. “Are you OK?”.

Kahanoff, grief-stricken, was approaching, in a stupor, the charred, smoking remains of the alien giantess, near where a despairing Mark Wilson was kneeling, surrounded by some airmen. He felt deeply ashamed on behalf of the people of Earth for this brutal, senseless act, which had cut down the life of an innocent, blameless woman from another planet. She had not hurt anyone, her only sin was thumbing her nose to powerful, spiteful men and refusing to be treated like an object.

“We did not deserve her” Muttered Kahanoff, to no one in particular. The fire engines had almost extinguished the blaze, but Kahanoff did not want to look at what was left of the lovely giant woman. Fury mixed with a fathomless sadness bubbled inside of him, as he had no doubt that motherfucker Chilton was at the head of this heinous deed. Chilton and his fascist connections in the pentagon. Kahanoff was sure he had covered his tracks well and proving Chilton’s involvement was not going to be easy… the bastard had won.

Kahanoff saw Mark pull himself dejectedly to his feet, and was about to address him, when the giantess beguiling voice thundered:

“Mark? Are you OK?”

To everyone’s astonishment, the giantess suddenly sat up, rubbing her face and eyes to clear the soot and the remaining suds of the fire-retardant foam sprayed on her by the fire engines. She then kneeled and looked around, confused, but not as confused as the little people around her. When she saw Mark near her, her arm shot out at blinding speed and she delicately plucked her man up to her face.

Kahanoff could see that she was almost completely naked, only a few, blackened shreds of her dress remaining stuck to her in places. Her skin and hair were intact, only blackened by the remains of the incendiary gel that had splashed and burned on her from her now disappeared restraints.

Zava then stood up and retreated from the gathering throng of people, holding Mark in front of her face, running her fingers all over his body, pressing softly all over his tiny frame to check he was uninjured, bright eyes intent. Kahanoff could see she was visibly trembling. She seemed reassured that her fiancée was ok. Mark and Zava exchanged some words, inaudible to the rest of the people there and then the giant woman turned briskly to face the crowd. Some of them gave an involuntary step backwards.

Zava was stark naked, her gigantic, uncovered breasts heaving in evident stress. She was standing very straight, with her feet slightly spread, displaying her powerful legs; Kahanoff could not help but notice that her crotch was also fully exposed, but she did not seem to care. Mark was being held protectively with her right hand against her right breast, her left hand was to her side, clenched in a fist. Her face was terrible to behold, one side blackened by the fire, but smooth and unharmed, her expression stern, looking down to the crowd and the cameras. The contrast of the soot in her face with the whites of her eyes made them gleam. She looked like the goddess of war, ready to dispense punishment to the puny mortals around her. She looked around her once, but fearless, looking for more threats, but none came. Then, seemingly just now realizing she was naked, she unclenched her fist and covered her crotch with her left hand; she moved the arm he was holding Mark with to cover her breasts, but she did not change her stance.

She then broke the awkward silence in a voice trembling with barely contained emotion, betrayed by her heavy foreign accent:

“Does anyone care to explain to me what just happened?”

Kahanoff saw McAllister, who had been talking on his mobile phone, look back to see his assistant bring him the loudspeaker he had dropped. He also saw Belinda Patel and her entourage approaching the scene. The colonel took the offered loudspeaker and spoke:

“A few minutes ago, in the middle of the Secretary’s speech, we detected the restraints you had on had been hacked by an external source and were ready to explode on command. We now know they had been hacked since last night, but the perpetrators were likely waiting for the right moment to set them off. And that is not all. We also, minutes ago, managed to stop the hacking of the armed walking drones that had similar murderous intent. In case I was not clear enough, this incident was no accident. It was done on purpose, with malign, terrorist and homicidal intent and it was done by someone inside the military, as it is impossible a foreign power could so easily circumvent our digital firewalls and security protocols this accurately and quickly”.

“But… why nothing happened to me?” Said Zava, puzzled “I was only knocked out for a while… was it all a fake bomb, designed only to give me a scare?”

“I’m afraid not”, answered a serious McAllister. “Those bracelets were packed with napalm (an incendiary gel) and enough explosives to break a tank into pieces. I was there when they were printed into your restraints and they were no joke. They were designed to maim, stop and kill by severing your limbs from your body and covering you with fire to prevent further attacks if they were forthcoming even after that. The explosions and the fire were very real. You should be dead, burnt to a husk and torn to pieces, and from inhaling smoke and superheated air, but you are not. I have absolutely no idea why”.

A long silence followed McAllister words. Everyone (Zava included) seemed to be trying to think what could it mean that Zava had survived, apparently completely unscathed, what should have been a deadly attack. Zava broke the silence:

“C-can it happen again? Will they try to kill me again?”

“Over my dead body” Said McAllister. Even now, 200 heavily armed airmen are making a perimeter around us and 800 more are coming from Quonset Point Naval Air Station to protect you”. Only heavily armed men, no automatons, drones or anything remotely ‘hackable’. And be assured, we’ll get to the bottom of this. The hackers and their instigators will be caught. I swear to God they will”.

Zava then turned to the cameras and said, icily.

“I know they are watching us right now. I have a message for the assassin, you know who you are, I know who you are: Be thankful nothing happened to my Mark. I do not care what happens to me and I was not really harmed by this cowardly attack, as I am now only inconvenienced and VERY annoyed. I’m willing to let this go and let American justice deal with you. But if ANYTHING happened to Mark, NOTHING would stop me from finding you and doing justice on my own way. Keep that in mind in case you are thinking of trying again. Go back to the slimy rock you crawled out from under and stay there”.

Belinda Patel took the megaphone from McAllister and said:

“On behalf of the people of the United States and this administration, I want to offer you my heartfelt apologies for this dreadful incident. We will take all necessary measures to keep you safe and bring the authors of this terrorist attack to justice”. Zava nodded.

After this, Zava started to pace, but stopped herself, as she realized that she did not have three hands to cover her bosom, crotch and ass crack from the cameras and the little people around her. She decided to sit down, crossing her legs. From within her fist, Mark said:

“Colonel, may I ask you a favor”

“Anything, Wilson”.

“I think Zava will need help cleaning herself from the sludge that is covering her now. We do not have enough soap in the hangar to remove this sticky stuff from her skin and hair. I was wondering if you could ask a few of your airwomen to help her clean herself with the aid, perhaps, of one of the airport’s fire engines, inside our place?”

“Of course. I’ll ask around for some volunteers. I will ask Dr. Poole to examine her as well for any possible injuries”.

“Please be quick, I beg you”, said Mark, anxious to direct Zava’s mind to things other than the attempt on her life. She even now was trembling, though less than before. “After all, we do not want her to miss her flight”.

“Flight?” Said Zava, perking up. “What flight?”

Mark was sitting in McAllister’s quarters, checking on his phone the news stream about today’s incident, while Zava was being cleaned in their own hangar. He had explained to Zava that a new French cargo airplane, the biggest in the world, was now in New York completing its maiden flight around the world and the French had offered to take Zava to L.A. in their hold, for free, no less, as a gesture of goodwill. Zava was ecstatic with the prospect of seeing Mark’s homeland, which she knew was much sunnier and warmer than the island she was now on. She was also tired of seeing the same low 4 walls of their hangar and wanted to go to the beach with Mark.

The plane was already on its way to Martha’s Vineyard airport and they were scheduled to depart at 3 PM bound for L.A. with Zava and Mark on board. The plane could lift over 220 tons, so there was plenty of leeway for the 140 or so tons that Zava weighed. Nobody really knew how much she weighed on Earth, so it would be a good time to find out, the airplane people had told Mark. Mark then told Zava to finish packing, so they could take a few things with them and the rest he had arranged to be shipped in another flight; she did not have to be told twice and went happily with the airwomen and the fire truck to take her bath and get ready. Right now, there were some French guys in one of the hangars putting together the special wheeled pallet that Zava would have to be strapped to, so she could be securely stowed on the cargo hold of the gigantic plane.

Out of morbid curiosity the first thing he saw online was Chilton’s twitter account. Surely enough, in the exact time Zava’s explosives had blown, the infamous congressman had tweeted “Good Riddance!”. The motherfucker could not even wait five minutes to gloat and did not bother hiding his glee at seeing her apparent death; at being scoffed at for his heartlessness by others in response, he only doubled down on his disparaging remarks, thanking God the Earth was rid of the alien ‘invader’ and belittling McAllister for his incompetence in having faulty restraints, he said.  After the time in which Zava miraculously got up alive and unharmed, he had stayed quiet, despite the many taunts of other twitter users.

There were several horrifying stills in other tweets of the moments of the explosion, showing Zava’s body and left side of her face being engulfed in flames as she toppled backwards. There were other images in which her face and chest were unmistakably ablaze, but there was not a single drop of blood. And Mark himself had not seen a single, tiny blister below the muck she was covered with.

A while later, Dr. Poole arrived with some of her team, after performing some tests on Zava.

“How is she?” Asked Mark, anxiously.

“A little shaken, but that’s it”. Said Dr. Poole. “I could not find the smallest scratch, blister or bruise on her. Even her hearing was unaffected by the explosion. She coughs a little and her nose is a bit runny with black snot from the smoke she inhaled, but that’s about it”.

“How can this be possible?”  Asked a puzzled Mark. McAllister approached, too.

“I have no clue”. Responded Dr. Poole. “I think you deserve to know that there were about 125 kg of plastic explosives on each of the four manacles. That makes 500 kg, which should have been enough to split her in half, the way she was holding herself with the wrist manacles on her chest.  There was plenty of napalm there, too. Not only that, but each manacle weighed about 180 kg with no gravitonics on. With gravitonics on, they can go up to 100 ton each. The logs show that when she put you away next to McAllister, all defense mechanisms on the manacles started to activate, and before she even got up, each manacle was gravitonically 80 tons each, more than twice her weight, in all. But looking at the footage, she did not struggle to get up and run. And this is not the first time we have confirmed she shrugged off that weight as if it was nothing. We now know she has been getting stronger since her arrival, in ways that do not make sense, at least from an Earth’s biology standpoint; she indeed never should have been able to walk from the beginning in our gravity!  And, considering the forces her body already withstood, unmarked, in the explosion and fire we all witnessed today, I’m not sure a hailstorm of armor piercing rounds from the war drones would have fazed her at all, if that hacking had succeeded”.

“Does it mean she is now invulnerable or something?” Said a baffled McAllister.

“I do not know, and I do not want to find out” said Dr. Poole. “I think after what just happened we better not try to call too much attention on the fact that she seems to be near-indestructible… because they would keep trying and even if her body is unassailable, her mind is not. She is very brave, but make no mistake, she was deeply shaken by this: no one gets used to people trying to kill you”.

“It is they, then?” Said Mark.

“We know who is likely responsible” said McAllister, cautiously. “But the guy is no technological whiz to pull it off alone. He had to had help from others, from inside. I cannot even begin to imagine the size of the favors he had to call in to try such a stunt as this. Hopefully they made any mistake that allows us to track and unmask them. I’m already calling in some favors of my own to do so; the official inquest is too slow”.

****

A few minutes later, Mark saw Zava getting out of the hangar in the same outfit she came to Earth: her blue top and tight running shorts; her hair was done in a braid again. She was barefoot, as her only pair of footwear perished in the explosion.  She smiled lovingly at him as she crawled out of their makeshift home. The airwomen had already left for the plane that would take them home, really home, to help with the preparations to haul Zava inside the plane. She took Mark in her hand and walked, guided by him, to the runway, where the plane was awaiting them. she carried under her other arm a crate with some things she wanted to have at hand when they made it to California.

Zava saw the plane was indeed more than big enough for her to fit in. The rear cargo door was already open and the pallet she was to lay on was already prepared behind the plane. It was a curious contraption made of a low platform surrounded by many small, fat tires. She also saw, a little concerned, some heavy straps attached to the pallet. The French crew, three people, was near the plane in their dark blue suits, ready to say hello to Zava; the airwomen that had helped her clean herself were a little ways off, in a neat line; beyond, she could see the airmen perimeter set up by McAllister to guard their departure. She kneeled in front of the French crew.

“Hello guys, I’m Zava”.

“Hello Zava”, a slim brunette bowed, smiling. “I’m captain Dupré” and these are my copilot Henri Legrand and Betti Moureau, the navigator”. Both nodded politely, although clearly a little taken aback at Zava’s size; seeing her in pictures did not prepare you to be meeting the stunning giantess in person. “We are ready to take you across this great country in our Airbus A920”.

“What should I do?” Said Zava, smiling.

“Be kind enough to let go of your fiancée and your luggage and lay down carefully in the pallet” Said Captain Dupré. “I’m afraid we’ll have to tie some straps on your body so if there is any turbulence your weight does not shift enough to destabilize the plane or you hurt yourself, similar to the way safety belts work in ‘normal’ passengers in a flight. I have been told you have never flown on a plane, yes?”

“Well, yes, this is the first time I fly. So far, I have only traveled by bus, train and by car; plane tickets are a bit expensive where I come from, still. I’m a little nervous, to be honest”.

“Never worry, Zava. Because the plane is so big, it is very steady, more so with you inside adding to its weight. No common wind will be able to budge it. The flight will be a little more than two hours, so please be patient. I know it will be a little claustrophobic, but Mark will be with you.”.

Without further ado, after setting down Mark and the crate, Zava carefully straddled the pallet and lowered herself. It was surprisingly sturdy, creaking only a little. She managed to wiggle a little to the sides guided by the instructions of the airwomen until they were satisfied; she was then told to put her hands below her chest . Then they took off her shoes and climbed Zava’s body to secure the straps.

Zava felt really weird lying there with all those tiny women walking all over her, tickling her. They cinched a strap across her belly, and Zava could feel their little heels digging into her flesh as they struggled to tighten the strap. Another strap restrained her arms; two more straps were around her ankles and another two across her thighs. She almost flinched when one of the airwomen walked down her abdomen into her thigh to tighten the strap and got close to her crotch. Finally, a kind of neck brace was fastened around her neck and head.

“Ok, Zava, we’re ready”, said Captain Dupré after a slow walk around Zava’s prone form in the pallet. Looking at her tablet, she continued. “According to the sensors on the pallet, your weight is now 157 tons. Before we roll the pallet into the plane I need to ask you to be very still during the flight. We know you are immensely strong and would be able to break free of these flimsy Kevlar straps if you have a mind to it. But if you do move and bump something inside the cargo hold, the integrity of the plane could be compromised and if a hole is ripped open in the fuselage, we might all plummet to our deaths. Do you promise not to move whilst you are inside the plane?”.

“Um… of course!, I do promise to be veeery still” Said Zava, smiling.

“Let’s proceed, then” Said Dupré. Zava could hear her footsteps on the loading ramp as the captain got on the plane to prepare it for takeoff.

“Mark, are you there?” Mark then climbed her body and sat on her bare midriff. Zava could not or at least did not attempt to move her head to look at Mark. Eyes closed, she only felt him there.

“I’ll be right here with you the whole trip. I trust this time you remembered to relieve yourself beforehand?” said Mark wryly.

“Oh, yes, lesson learned! And I think when the bombs went off I actually pissed myself, to be honest. Thankfully with the other mess and all that water from the fire trucks nobody seemed to notice, dear” she chuckled, self-deprecatorily. The pallet started to roll ponderously towards the plane’s loading ramp.

“How do you feel?” Said Mark, taking advantage of the background noise of the pallet engines so they would not be overheard. They had not been able to talk in private since the incident.

“Strangely well. Marvelous, actually. I feel no pain at all. I even feel a little silly, like after drinking a few beers. Probably only the adrenaline”.

“Good… I almost died of fright back there Zav”.

“Mark… what does it mean?”

“It seems we have made some enemies…”

“No, I mean, what does it mean that I was not hurt at all?”

“I do not know, Zav. I truly don’t. I guess this only adds up to the list of uncanny things that keep happening since we left giantland… what did you really feel when the explosives went off?”.

“The wind was punched out of me… I had my wrists against my belly…. I felt the explosions like a kick on my guts and my feet and so much heat in my face… almost unbearable, and I felt like I gulped a fireball when I inhaled after I screamed… my eyes felt like they were going to melt… then I blacked out. I woke up being sprayed by those engines with cold water… I could only think… if something happened to you…” she started to tremble.

“Shhhh… Nothing happened. We are both ok”. Mark stroked the skin of her abdomen soothingly.

“Well, they really tried… I mean, that Chilton really tried to kill me!!! And I never even touched him!!”.

Mark was silent…

“Mark?”

“Yes, Zav?”

“We need to find out why I could not be hurt. Maybe I changed… when I came to Earth… I want to know how strong I am. I think they won’t stop trying, Mark. I need to know my limits, so I can protect you… please help me find out, love”.

“I promise”.

They were now all the way into the plane. Zava could hear the whining of the hydraulic cargo door closing and the engines of the plane warming up. She did not open her eyes… she only concentrated on the weight and warmth of her tiny lover sitting on her tummy.

****

Minutes passed. Zava was almost drifting to sleep while the airplane taxied lazily to the takeoff runway and awaited its command from the air controllers to proceed to takeoff; the lights on the cargo hold had dimmed to a very dark amber, so Zava could rest. Mark had laid down on her belly preparing for a long flight. Suddenly the plane started accelerating, startling Zava a bit. Acceleration quickly picked up, and then suddenly Zava had that disconcerting sensation, familiar to all who have flown in an aircraft that takes off and ascends very quickly, of going up while your stomach stays on the ground.

“Uuuuuuuu!” She clenched her hands on her torso and tensed, despite herself. She was not expecting the light vertigo from the ascent. The plane was obviously climbing very fast.

“Shhhhhh. It’s Ok, Zava, this is normal”. Mark had anticipated this reaction and had walked all the way to her top and to her hands, grabbing her left pinkie and squeezing it surprisingly hard. He stayed there until the plane got to a stable altitude. Zava finally relaxed.

“You must think I’m such a fool…” Said Zava. “Survived a bomb without a scratch and I get scared by flying in a perfectly safe airplane”

“Never that. You are an incredible woman. I feel so lucky that we met! All that suffering in giantland was worth it if led to finally meeting you, Zav… and today I almost lost you… again”

“Oh, Mark…” she could feel he was pacing on her top, giving strange little hops. What are you up to?

“That is why” Said Mark, walking back onto her belly. “We have to take advantage of every second we have together…” she gasped as she felt Mark’s warm, nude body wriggling under the waistband of her shorts; he had undressed, leaving his clothes on her top, near her hands. She immediately started to get wet with anticipation… she bit her lower lip to suppress a moan as she felt her miniature lover crawling over her pubes. She was getting goosebumps all over. Then she felt his small, soft but very warm hands probing her folds, prying her slit open. Her hips bucked despite herself, but the straps held.

Then a lightning of pleasure shot through her as Mark’s hot mouth found her love button, his strong hands grabbing her hood, squeezing her clit out. She could feel every lap of his diminutive tongue as it contacted her most intimate flesh, his lips sucking, his teeth nibbling, his face nuzzling it.

“Yes!!! Eat my clit… just like that, don’t stop, faster…. Faster…” she mumbled in as a low voice as she could muster, trying to stay still. Her clit felt like it was going to melt, like it was going to burst under the attack of Mark’s skilled mouth, stimulating her as only he knew how. It went on and on…. Until she shuddered with release.

“Unhhhhhhhh…. Oh…. No more, please, it’s too much…” Mark relented. He remained there along her slit, as her breathing returned to normal. Then he crawled out of her pants and started walking towards her head. He climbed the side of her neck brace and stood on her chin, arms akimbo, facing her eyes. She could focus on his grinning face, barely, and she could see, though blurry (it was too close), his proud erection, waiting for her. Her grin mirrored Mark’s.  Then her mouth opened, her tongue slipping out of her mouth, eager to contact his manhood, but it was not long enough. She whimpered, needy, and Mark kneeled, complying, moaning as her tongue tip then found him where he needed it.

***

On the cockpit, the three crewmembers felt a shudder rock the giant aircraft lightly. They looked at each other, eyebrows high. Captain Antonia Dupré, with a knowing smile, simply said. “Ah, L’amour!”.

Rebecca O’Leary finished the virtual bullpen video conference with her editor and staff and started organizing her day on her tablet, checking off assignments, personal tasks and responding to requests from coworkers from the video editing section. These days, going to the Boston Globe’s headquarters was a real rarity, as it was only a modest building which belied the huge online presence of the Globe; the building had only a few conference rooms, a few offices and a basement full of cooled computer servers.

Everybody worked from the field and from home, and not even the editor went there most days; she joked sometimes that the public perception of a hotshot reporter did not really match the reality of typing away and editing photographs all day in her pajamas and bathrobe, if she bothered to wear that much, at home. Even the people editing multimedia content worked from home, all content being sent back and forth via file sharing.  In 2024, the printed edition stopped altogether, and it completely migrated into the digital world, no longer bothering to call itself a newspaper. The biggest news mill in New England had nothing to do with paper for the last decade, and it had long featured a significant amount of video content.

Rebecca herself, although most of her job consisted on writing news and a weekly syndicated column, used photographs and sometimes went out with a video crew for coverage of breaking or important news. Frowning as she tapped, swiped and typed with practiced ease on the screen, she was a bit worried on the almost overwhelming list of tasks she had riddled herself with. It was so that a bit later, her frown deepened with slight annoyance when an orange popup appeared on her screen, relayed from her cell phone. Incoming call, caller unknown.

She was not fazed by this, because she had some informants who used VPNs and other anonymizing technologies to call her. That was how she had managed to use whistleblowers and leaks for the exposé that just three years before had earned her a Pulitzer. As always, before answering, she checked the camera icon was grayed out, as she was by no means presentable for that.

“O’Leary here” She answered, after tapping on the voice icon.

“Miss Rebecca O’Leary?” A pleasant, husky voice answered back. A she, for the voice was undoubtedly female, accented, with oddly rolling R’s. Foreign, most likely, though she could not place it.

“The same. Boston Globe”.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Zava Casafus”.

Becca O’Leary was, for the first time in many years, shocked speechless. She had been more than a little peeved when the interview opportunity Mark Wilson had promised never materialized and soon, he and the giant woman were off to California after the appalling attempt on her life. It had been three days. After an awkward silence, Zava (if it was her), asked, uncertainly:

“Um… are you still there?”

Becca only managed to utter, stupidly.

“Er…” Speaking with who was not only a giant female, but a giant, seemingly indestructible extraterrestrial, was truly daunting. Despite her early anticipation for the interview, Becca felt that for once, she, who had interviewed a good number of celebrities and presidents, was truly out of her league, and had not thought things through, and the reality of all of it came crashing down now on her head.  How do you speak with such a being? What could I possibly say that does not look stupid? We must look so puny and ridiculous to her! By God, I’m not even talking to a human being! More like a superhuman being!!!  What the fuck do I say? Ok… calm down, maybe this is only a prank…

“Is this a bad time?”, said the voice, seemingly concerned “Miss O’Leary, I can call later if…”

“No, no, no, I’m fine, I was just surprised out of my wits”. Said Becca. “And please call me Becca”.

“Only if you call me Zava”, said the woman who said was Zava.

“O-of course…. Actually, I was kind of expecting Mark’s call…” Said Becca, trying to get back on her reporter’s feet.

“Well, I know it was him who asked for the interview, but I thought I should call you myself and talk a little first, with you”. Added the voice at the other side of the line. “Sorry for not calling earlier, but we wanted to have a few days to ourselves after… after what happened; anyway, I’m ready now and I was wondering if you could come over to Cali for the interview… If you don’t mind.”.

“OK… sorry… Zava… I hope you don’t mind, but first I would like to… to make sure you are really her, I mean you…” Dammit, pull yourself together!!! “I mean, who you say you are… I do not want to end up in some YouTuber’s kid prank”.

The woman in the line laughed good-naturedly.

“I can understand that.” Then the video option (from the woman’s side) came up live. Becca looked at her tablet at the vaguely ethnic woman’s smiling image on the screen. There was indeed much resemblance, but in the age of deep fakes, she could still not be sure…. And how was the giantess making this call? Then the view shook a little, retreating from the woman’s face as she looked aside, and in seconds Becca O’Leary stared, slack-jawed at the face of who was almost certainly Zava… and of Mark Wilson, looking tiny and totally dwarfed as he was held beside the woman’s face with only three fingers. Wilson waved at the camera a little sheepishly, gripped by the giant woman’s fingers by his hips. He was barefoot, dressed in jeans and a white shirt. Zava was wearing a gray t-shirt, and her hair was apparently tied in a pony tail. Then Zava put Mark down and off-screen and smiled back at Becca.

“Er… when would it be convenient for you, Zava”.

They discussed the details. Zava, with her usual honest candor, even asked Becca for her suggestions on appropriate attire for the interview, they spoke some more, the proper location, venue, etc., and then the call was over. Becca, her hands shaking with excitement, ordered Siri to call her editor.

****

Zava sighed after making the call, sitting cross-legged on her comfy cushion. She could understand the reporter’s unease, but she could not avoid a pang of loneliness as she had come to realize that reaction was the rule when interacting with earthlings. They treated her with something close to fear, one reason which she loved doing phone or text calls rather than video, as then she could expect a more normal conversation, keeping up the illusion that she was “normal”, which here meant tiny. Well, Mark had warned me being a celebrity wasn’t going to be easy. And Zava was more than a little nervous as she had never been interviewed by a reporter or been on TV or the radio (or in print), for that matter. She turned to look down on her fiancé, who was gazing at her understandingly.

“Mark… I’m a little nervous… maybe we should have waited a few more days”.

“Well, Zav, it was your idea to call her now”.

“I know…” She sighed, anew. “Better to get it over with sooner”.

“I have an idea” Said Mark, walking around to get behind Zava. She swiveled her head, ponytail whipping around.

“For what?” she said, intrigued.  

“To relax you”. His voice came from behind her cushion. “Scuttle back your ass a bit”. She did. “A bit more”. She complied.  “Lean forward a bit, dear,” Leaning on her knees with her elbows, while Intrigued, she remained there and then twitched, giggling as she felt Mark’s subtle touch over the triangle of white fabric covering her vulva. She shuddered with anticipation as she felt her slit being explored from one end to the other.

“Oh… I’m such an easy woman, Mark, you should be glad”. She purred as his little hands felt around through the fabric until he found the little mound of her clit hood and started rubbing purposefully. Not long after, a moan spurted out of her as she felt his little lover’s faze nuzzle into it with his full face, and when the edges of his teeth grazed the fleshy nub she was ready to scream. Her hand reached back and pulled aside her thong over her butt cheek.

“I know I am fortunate, my beautiful, unique Zava”.

Mark watched in wonder as Zava’s giant fingers effortlessly pulled aside her thong and her vulva was now completely bare. This never gets old, thought Mark stood taking in admiringly at the protruding fleshy folds and pads of his fiancée exposed genitalia and backside, pulsing in anticipation, already giving out her now familiar womanly musk. Exposed for him. Zava stretched out the tough fabric and secured it over her right asscheek. As per his instructions, her ass was overhanging out of the cushion and he was in the perfect position to stimulate her.  He looked around at her great asscheeks, stroking the one closer to him, running his finger over the almost invisible, downy hairs covering each inch of her derriere and kneaded her soft flesh.

He was indeed fortunate, he mused. How many times had he dived, quite literally, on mountains of titflesh, pussyflesh, buttflesh, or in her luxuriant hair, in her mouth, making her scream in satisfaction? How many times he had screamed himself as his cock was skillfully sucked off to release by an equally eager and enormous tongue and lips wide enough to suck and engulf his bigger head whole (as quite often they had). And just as often he had his penis scrutinized under her magnifying glass, as colossal feminine fingers explored his manhood, edged and milked, laying there naked as a jailbird under her looming face, legs spread, looking up at her eye, magnified to even more enormous proportions while she relentlessly manipulated his dick and balls with the precision the magnification enabled.

Now her clit was positively throbbing, sticking out in lewd aspiration out of her hood now. He bent to the task and started licking and sucking avidly, loving the sensation of his giant lover’s clit pulse in and out of her folds. He could feel Zava’s pulse in his mouth as the fist-sized nub reacted to being pampered, endorsed by Zava’s faraway whimpers. Her fingers reappeared to each side of her cunt and while he was licking, she started to peel herself open, fingers digging wetly into her folds and pulling them apart, in a wordless but unmistakable pleading to be fucked.

Then he was startled as he felt something warm nudge his back. He looked over his shoulder to see a head-sized gob of grool attached to a three-finger thick string had leaked out of her wet cave as she spread herself. The clear, thick liquid had pooled on his back and was now running down his ass.

He stepped back a bit to see Zava’s now even more revealed snatch. His own cock strummed with desire as the incredible erotic spectacle of Zava’s manipulating her intimate flesh for his benefit… and hers. Zava got off in exposing herself to him. It was spine-tingling to see the demure and coy Zava overtaken by lust… lust for him, such a gigantic woman offering herself in unthinking abandon, getting exponentially excited by knowing his little eyes were inches away from her naughty bits.

She now knew how to subtly spread and grip her folds apart in just the right way, so Mark could easily see her tight ring of ragged pink flesh, now intensely winking threshold to her womanly mysteries. And he could see much more now: her two other pulsating holes, so many creases of female flesh nudged apart by her now also very wet, slimy fingers, which had to keep adjusting her grip, coated as they were by the juices oozing out of her cunt hole with each winking pulsation, flowing down her slit into her clit. He approached it again and slapped it with some force. Zava squealed in relish.

“Uuuuuuuuuhhh…. Mark, more, more please, please don’t stop, by the Gods”.

He kept literally slapping around, with the left and with the right, faster and faster, eliciting more and more ragged breaths and squeals, until she suddenly drew back her hands, her ass shooting up into the sky as he lowered her head into the cushion.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”.

She collapsed on her side, her thong snapping back into place. She lay there, her whole great body quivering, panting and whimpering, unable to move, unable to speak. When she opened her eyes, she found Mark standing on the cushion next to her face, just far away to let herself focus her eyes on him. He was trembling with need, his cock bloated and rigid. She smiled and stood up, getting away from the cushion, as Mark followed her movements longingly. She then stepped out of her panties and took of her T-shirt.

****

Zava’s monumental edifice of womanhood descended, and soon she was on all fours, stalking him like a cat. Her tits hanged freely, swinging enticingly with each movement of her approach. Her head approached him and then she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. From his slightly elevated position Mark stood, enthralled, at her giant mouth approaching and her tongue slithering out in search of his cock. Zava looked Mark right into the eye, both moaning in chorus as her wet appendage contacted his engorged member, lifting it, and then licking it with abandon with a very nimble tongue tip, wriggling in just the right way, trapping it between the slight notch in her tongue tip and his lower abdomen.

She continued like this until, with her uncanny sensibility, she felt he was about to explode. Then, she deftly grabbed him and sat back with legs spread, lowering Mark to her crotch, while with her other hand she spread herself again, and then rubbed her clit against his cock, letting an exhalation of utter release as his warm semen soon spurted over her clit.

TWO DAYS LATER

Becca O’Leary stepped out of the airport with her crew, a photographer, a video camerawoman, two sound and light assistants and two women in charge of makeup. Mark Wilson was already there waiting for them in two Silver SUVs. Mark was smartly dressed in black pants, with matching socks and dress Marroquinera shoes, and a white shirt in starkly white Colombian silk that showed off his wide, muscular chest, she noted approvingly. Clean shaven, and smiling, he looked quite handsome, she noted. She was a little worried he (or she herself) would be recognized, but nobody seemed to pay them too much attention as they rolled their baggage and the Pelican cases full of heavy gear to his SUV. The location of Zava & Mark’s abode was still a secret. All that was known is that the plane had landed at night in a private air strip somewhere in the desert and presumably the giant woman had walked her way (to wherever she was now), across the arid wastes, as nobody had seen her since…. Where else could she hide? It’s not like she could just scurry away in an Uber ride to some lovers’ retreat…

Because of the bombing attempt on Zava, she was also sheltered by the witness protection program and other government agencies (but not the armed forces, after last week’s fiasco), the government had said, refusing to go into more details, arguing national security protocols. It had been almost a week and the only certainty was that she was in California or at least somewhere in the West Coast, although there were some wild conspiracy theories that she had been seen swimming across the Pacific or in Canada. Mark Wilson’s property in Santa Monica was stalked by the press and throngs of people after its address was leaked on Reddit, but nobody had shown up there at all; it was as empty as when he departed for his ill-fated Spindrift flight to London.

Mark had approached them as they came out of the airport doors and shook everybody’s hands. The crew, seasoned newswomen and men, could not conceal being quite a bit daunted by their assignment, a truly historical one. The down-to-earth, cordial Mark soon put them at ease and guided them to the cars. Then he got in one with Becca and the camerawoman, the rest of the crew following in the other car.

The ride did not take long. The two cars traveled for about 10 minutes until they got to a private helicopter company and hangars. Becca had talked about this with Zava, who had explained (as explained by Mark, she had no notion of travel distances and times around Los Angeles) that going to where Zava was by car would be simply too long a ride to be practical.

More practical than having Zava go anywhere, had mused Becca at the time. She had thought quite a bit about the practical problems, such as traveling, that Zava (and the public) would have to face every time she wanted (or had to) travel anywhere. Normally these kinds of interviews took place in one of the Globe’s studios, but presidents and celebrities sometimes hosted the interview in their own villas, which was going to be the case this time.

Once in the hangars, they moved all the gear and luggage to a big heli and then all boarded and were off. Off north, Becca noted. She stole glances at her tablet from time to time, which at length informed her they were heading for Avila Beach in the San Luis Obispo area. Before the ride, Mark gave each a small wireless microphone for their lapels, explaining that Zava had a matching hearing aid in one of her earrings, as people’s voices at a normal speaking volume were often too small to reach Zava’s ears if she was standing, and that it was for their own safety. He also warned them to stay well clear of her if Zava had their back turned to them, and especially if she was standing it was vital to keep her informed at all times of their whereabouts, as it was easy to be injured by her, inadvertently. He did not say what all were thinking anyway, pondered Becca, glumly: be careful around her or you could end up as street pizza.

During the trip, Becca had been looking out the window of the helicopter, enjoying the sights of the Pacific and the desert… they were flying high and fast. When they started to descend, something blue and white in the mosaic of green and yellow patches of the desert caught Becca’s eye. She looked at it intently and saw, in a relatively secluded hollow among rocky hills, what seemed like a field covered by grass, encircled by knolls which separated it from the beach. On it there was a person dressed in blue, on the field, seemingly walking towards a modestly sized square shack nearby, painted bright white. I thought we were flying higher…

The figure seemed to be looking up at the approaching helicopter, while shading the eyes with one hand, shielding them from the sun. Becca found this only mildly interesting and the person on the ground attracted her attention only because it was the one piece of color down there, so out of place. But then the helicopter veered towards the shack. As they got closer, Becca saw that the figure was that of a woman. Becca was starting to dread another road trip (she was impatient to perform the interview), when, eyes growing wide, she realized that something was off. That is no shack… that is a hangar!!! And that is…

It was Zava, obviously. The helicopter pitched and yawed and started to descend while circling the dale where the hangar was. Becca looked back at the camerawoman and was about to mouth her “are you getting this”, but she already was, as was the cameraman, and neither of them was looking at Becca to see her talk to them, completely engrossed as they were in capturing video and stills of the flyover they were being treated to. Becca looked at the pilot, which was quite calm, quite certainly a sign he had been here before. The rest of the crew gaped, astounded.

Soon the helicopter had landed; by now Zava was near the hangar, giving the heli much needed room. The crew got busy unloading all the stuff they had brought, and Becca, followed by Mark, did not waste any time to walk up the driveway to the hangar, where Zava was waiting for them, about 300 feet away. Becca now noticed there was a 50 feet wheeled scaffold nearby, with a lift attached.

This is it. Thought Becca, looking in awe at the giant being before her. Admittedly, she had seen her before, albeit from a distance, but being not only closer, but having the enormous woman full attention was more harrowing than she anticipated. When they arrived, Zava had first looked at Mark and then she swept her gaze over the crew and their maneuvers with their gear and the helicopter. But when Becca started to walk up the driveway with Mark in tow, Zava’s head turned briskly and looked directly at the journalist, who only realized she had stopped in her tracks when Mark passed her and then, realizing she had stopped, he turned and looked at her quizzically. Becca felt the regard of the giantess like a physical weight landing on her, the giant dark eyes and dark nostrils pointing towards her. It is odd how you fixate in details such as the fact that it’s impossible for us to be near her without looking up her nose… or her skirt.

She had not meant to stop, but it was a primal reaction, such as when a mouse realizes he is being stalked by a cat.  Recovering quickly, she resumed walking and again passed Mark, feeling the giant woman’s eyes follow her. Becca noted, a bit annoyed, that Zava had the intent expression of someone who is watching a kitten or a little bird’s frolics but is at the same time trying not to let it show, as in this case the kitten might object at being patronized. I guess we must all seem like little toys to her… I feel so vulnerable… even afraid! Becca avoided Zava’s eyes and, suppressing a shudder, tried to reason her way out of the uneasiness she felt at approaching such an enormous being, towering above everyone. Then Zava gave a little step forward, ostensibly to greet them, and Becca again, cursing internally, not only stopped but actually retreated one step, involuntarily, her eyes watching, warily, Zava’s feet, wearing sandals with golden straps.

Zava realized, chagrined, that she had startled Becca and then, with slow and deliberate movements, kneeled on the spot, curling her hands on her lap, trying to look as harmless as possible. Becca recovered her nerve and advanced again. By now the crew had caught up with Mark and her and were a few steps behind.

“Um… Good morning Ms… I mean, Becca, and everyone. Welcome!” She said.

The completely guileless smile of Zava and the honesty bashful demeanor of the giant girl disarmed Becca of the slight resentment that was building up. My god, she even blushed! Who the hell even blushes in this day and age? Becca realized, the tanned complexion of Zava’s cheeks and neck reddening noticeably. Obviously Zava did not have the slightest intention of being intimidating, but she could not help looming over everyone.  The girl was in a close-fitting blue gown, reaching to just below her knees, which were now uncovered, the dress hiking up Zava’s legs as she kneeled there. Becca and the others were about 20 or so feet in front of Zava’s knees, which were tightly squeezed together.

“Uh… hello Zava, nice to finally meet you” she said. “Might I shake your hand? I do not know if this is a custom where you come from, but here…” she extended her hand forward, feeling more than a little silly. Beaming, Zava lowered her right hand with her pinky finger extended and, bending a little at the waist and neck, got it closer to Becca, who noticed that the giant hand was the size (and likely having the endurance) of a wrecking ball. Everything about her is massive, said Becca, realizing that her imagination had been short of actually helping her prepare for the experience she was just having. Becca gripped the giant finger being offered with both hands, one not being enough, trying not to stare at it in disbelief, feeling the soft but very tough skin and the hard, shiny (and unpainted) nails. The finger retreated, and Becca introduced her crew, everyone taking turns in shaking hands or rather fingers with the giantess. Zava politely repeated everybody’s name and greeted them warmly, offering Mark a flirty wink.

While this happened, relieved not to be pinned by Zava’s gaze for a bit, Becca took the time to examine the giantess at leisure. Even kneeling, the alien woman was over 30 feet tall. She was cinnamon-skinned, with dark, almond shaped eyes and a vaguely ethnic cast to her features, like South American or perhaps middle-Eastern. Her features were delicate and elegant, with high cheekbones, and full lips (she was wearing no makeup, as requested) in a not overly large mouth, with very white teeth. Her brow was smooth and peaceful, her hair, almost reaching the small of her back, was so black as to almost give a blue sheen. Her hair was loose, resting in pleasingly looking locks over her shoulders. Her arms, bare, were long, athletic and shapely. Her enormous hands were by no means brutish, but with remarkably slender fingers, and well-cared for, short nails.

The blue gown Zava was wearing was suspended from Zava’s shoulders with thin straps, exposing a sexy, well formed décolletage, not too revealing but it would be next to impossible not to notice Zava’s undeniable natural endowments.  Finally, Becca’s gaze turned, unbidden, to the nearest part of Zava’s anatomy: her knees… beyond which lay... Get your mind out of the gutter! Becca averted her gaze and looked at Mark.

The sight of Zava’s closed legs brought to mind the fact that Mark not Zava’s caretaker nor merely a pet of hers. They had declared openly that they were engaged. Becca spared a sidelong glance at the hulking extraterrestrial woman. That must mean that unless Zava’s culture expects her to wait until marriage, they must have had sex already … how does that even work?!? She thought among a mix of horror and curiosity, how a naked Zava would look like, all 80 feet of gargantuan, naked woman. The subject of body intimacy between Mark and Zava was something she would have to toe the line with in her interview, but offending Zava was not an option…. For a variety of reasons. Becca was glad Zava was not a man, as a giant man would be much more intimidating than an obviously young, kind girl.

Becca’s fertile imagination made her imagine how a squad of armed giant soldiers would look and could not suppress a shiver of fear. Ten 200-ton burly men with automatic weapons and body armor running across the landscape at 80 miles per hour would be nigh unstoppable. And what about a squad of giant armed fighter planes? No wonder the Pentagon is afraid of an invasion… these are not little green men. Are all people in her world as tough as her?

Because the whole world had seen how Zava had withstood an explosion with high explosives and fire that would have decimated an army in seconds. And without even a scratch. I’m pretty sure she must have the Pentagon and others very worried. What if she decided to take over? What if someone tries to harm Mark… how could we… anyone… stop her from having the revenge she promised would unleash? And what would we do afterwards, if she does, and resists arrest?

All these thoughts were over in a flash in Becca’s mind, quick as lightning. Seeing the introductions had finished, Becca said:

“Zava, before we start the interview with you, I was wondering if Mark would perhaps show me around while the makeup crew gets you ready for the camera? We are recording in 8K and believe me when I say that you don’t really want to skimp on makeup at that res.”

“Oh, of course, please come in and sorry for the mess!” Said Zava, turning her attention to the crew. As asked, Mark, accompanied by the camerawoman, who was already filming, guided Becca into the hangar, which had a kind of Eastern décor feel to it, with rugs and huge cushions around, and an equally enormous cushion that worked as a mattress, and a giant (of course) trunk, for Zava’s clothes and possessions. Mark explained that it was by necessity rather than design, as making chairs, wardrobe and tables for Zava would be costly and impractical.

There was a white wall, like a cinema, in front of the mattress, even a coffee table, proportionated for Zava, and in outside, in the back of the hangar, a giant shower had been fitted, sheltered from view from the driveway by the bulk of the hangar. There was also an enclosure with walls six-meter-tall, a little apart, that Mark explained, was the sanitary services for Zava. Another, smaller building, had the fridge and pantry, Mark explained.

The hangar was over 20 m tall, but Becca expected Zava would have to stoop or crawl inside if she did not want to inadvertently rip the trusses with her head. Everything looked clean and cozy. While they were having the walkthrough, Becca started the interview, making mostly small talk with Mark, but without going too deep, as she wanted to ask more of Zava.

Having the opportunity to talk to a sentient being from somewhere other than Earth was truly once in a lifetime opportunity for any journalist. The country Zava came from, in fact her entire planet, had to have an entirely different evolutionary history and human (if they could be called that) history than Earth. So many things to ask… so little time!

****

As the crew introduced themselves, Mark looked at them in faint amusement at the usual reactions to his lovely Zava; men and women alike were trying not to stare in awe and disbelief at her huge approaching hands, enormous legs and her mammoth and just as massively eye-snaring cleavage. This particular endowment of Zava was particularly hard to miss, as she had to lean forward slightly to shake fingers with everyone. How could you keep your eyes off them, each boob bigger than a person?

Mark had noticed, of course, the fiery redhead reporter had shaken in her high-heeled shoes when Zava turned to look straight at her. Oh Becca, and you have not even been on the receiving end of one of her glares, as I have, he thought, chuckling inwardly. As the mutual pleasantries continued, he mused, looking around, that they had no idea of the scene that transpired just the day before just where they were standing.

Zava had been delighted in the change from the chilly (to her) New England area to warm, sunny Southern California. Just the day before, she had been lying in her black bikini on a giant towel in the grass in front of the garden. After being a while face up, she faced down when she felt her front had had enough sun, head resting on her pillow, trying to relax for the interview in the following day. She fell asleep in this position.

Mark, wearing only beach shorts, had taken his time approaching Zava from behind to enjoy the view at leisure. Standing just beyond her feet, he could see Zava’s legs and especially her inviting thighs, slightly spread, slightly flattened against the ground. Beyond, her lovely ass, so wide, so womanly. In the distance, as her face lay on its side on the pillow, her head slightly raised by the pillow, her shapely ear and eyelashes fluttering slightly as she napped, the very picture of tranquility and beguiling femininity. And of course, in the middle of all that, her slit, covered only by a flimsy strip of black cloth, beckoning him.

He answered the call, walking in the valley of her outstretched legs, fully aware that being there without Zava’s acknowledgement was dangerous: any movement of her could be, while he was there. Soon he was just in front of the juncture of her thighs, admiring the swell of her covered vulva, wishing she was sunbathing in the nude, but of course, with the federal agents and video surveillance spread around the property, out of view, but clearly there, it was just not decent. Sighing with resignation, he retraced his steps and walked all the way to Zava’s sleeping face. He smiled with adoration at her kittenish sighs, slightly parted lips and the closed eyes of his giant lover, with her long, almost foot-long eyelashes, and her slightly twitching eyelids. Getting closer to her mouth, he sneakily pulled his cock out of his trousers and lay it in the crevice of her lips, delighting in the warm, moist feel in his steadily hardening cock.

Zava’s lips curved in silent approval when she felt him, her tongue polling slightly out of her lips to probe his manhood, her warm saliva so good on his cock his legs shook.

“I think I had enough sun, dear”. Zava said, sleepily. “Let’s go inside”.

They did. Zava took the lead and as soon as he was inside, she closed the heavy hangar doors with ease, then, with practiced straightforwardness, she stripped (as did he) and lay down on the mattress face down, without further ado, giving him leave to take the lead, as evidenced by her now more widely spread legs. Mark climbed on the mattress and walked up to Zava’s head, climbing her hair grabbing it by the fistfuls, eliciting giggles, which continued as he strolled up down her back to one of her ass cheeks, enjoying thoroughly the feel of her giving butt-flesh under his naked soles.

The view from there was quite delightful. Her splayed, shapely legs just before him, extending a ridiculous distance from her ass. As soon as she felt him there, Zava reached out and picked up Mark’s latest contraption. It was an oddly shaped steel bar, coated with soft silicone, and curled on itself not unlike a 3D pretzel. Zava reached back and deftly inserted the two ends of this device on her pussy and let go. It gaped her pussy, and soon her hand reached for Mark, who was delicately picked up and lowered towards her crotch. One leg straight, the other bent and sprawled, Zava moaned with relish as she felt Mark’s hard body crawl inside her cunt, pushing with his strong legs on her palm and fingers, his arms tickling her insides. It’s so much better when he does it on his own… she purred mentally as his wriggling inside her made her squeal in bliss.

Soon he was scratching that place, his limbs pushing against her inner walls with wet, sloshing sounds. She could feel moisture seeping out of her, her body shaking uncontrollably as Mark skillfully pushed all the right buttons. Oh… my sweet little man… what are you…. Ohhhhh!!!

Her vagina contracted and pulsed. Zava could feel her vagina wanting to clamp tight, the steel rods giving in slightly. She could feel now two clear pressure points inside her as Mark pushed against her walls with both feet, as he licked, scratched or whatever (soooo gooood) he was doing. Then she clamped her legs together as the orgasm overwhelmed her, her body bucking irrepressibly, her mouth completely open, nipples, clit and more on fire. In the throes of pleasure, she could feel Mark twisting inside her, wriggling his way out, this only arousing her more and more, in a gush of close-together climaxes that left her breathless and holding her forehead.

Finally, she remembered Mark was still inside her. She spread her legs.

“Mark? Are you OK?”

“Why wouldn’t I be”. He laughed, also panting with exertion.

“Oh Mark, it’s so arousing talking with you while you are inside….” She added, shuddering as he squirmed his way out.

 “Zav, get your finger in here, please”.

“What’s the matter? Are you stuck?” she said with a mixture of concern and shame.

Zava rolled on her back. Looking down, she saw no sign of Mark, only seeing the device keeping her gaped. Of course, she could not see her opening, as it was too below her to be able to peek. So, she inserted her index finger in her hole, feeling around. With a thrill of pleasure, she felt Mark grab her fingertip with both hands. She tried to pull him out, but he released her finger.

She tentatively pushed her slender digit deeper again until she felt him grab her again… and pull toward him to lick the very tip, under her fingernail, with his tongue. His touch, both of his fingers, and his tongue was so subtle, yet so electrifying that her pussy throbbed anew, hugging what it could of Mark’s body. Her other hand started to rub her clit furiously, and in seconds her third orgasm exploded. Zava could only grunt repeatedly, exhausted by pleasure, bracing herself on the mattress with her arms, legs as spread as they would go, hips rearing repeatedly, until the pulsations subsided. Then she sat up, looking down at her slit to see Mark emerge.

Mark loved the view every time he came out of their insertion sessions. When his head and shoulders cleared Zava’s entrance, he could look to both sides to the erotic landscape of Melina’s long legs spread before him, toes curling in the distance. Looking down, her buttocks flattened against the mattress, and twisting his body to look up, the rest of her slit (looking surprisingly long from this perspective), lewdly flaring labia and of course her crowning, burgeoning clit, her thick strip of pubes and up, up Zava’s open mouth and glassy, satisfied and slightly incredulous eyes were visible.

Her hand descended and delicately pinched him on the shoulders, but he was too wet and slippery for her to be able to grasp him without squeezing too much, so she then curled her index finger and he clung with both arms at the impromptu hook when he had it within reach, and then he was pulled out of her with a loud slurping sound, looking up to enjoy Zava’s mouth opening wider as she savored the friction of his body with a long sigh. He had blown his load long ago inside Zava. She deposited her between her legs, retrieved the spreader from her, and set it aside.

They both locked eyes, bursting with love, as Zava playfully, lazily slid her middle finger along her wet slit, tickling her opening at times, sticking it inside for Mark’s benefit all the way to her knuckle, smirking at his rapt attention so commanded. This tops the desert lovemaking, Mark thought, seeing the vast folds roll under her colossal finger.

The day Zava and Mark landed on the desert secret military base, a week ago, Zava had carried him untold miles into the desert under the moonlight, directed by Mark. In a secluded, barren dale, she suddenly put Mark and the crate down and said.

“Make love to me now Mark. Nobody can see or hear us now”. She said “I want to enjoy you now before we are surrounded by people again… who knows who, what or how many await us there…”.

“Take off your clothes, Zav… let me see you”. She undressed with urgency, her hands trembling. She lay back on the sand, spreading her legs and pulling her knees by pulling with her hands on the back of her knees up until these were almost level with her ears, feet in the air, in an absolute show of giving herself out to him. Her hand reached down for him, already naked and lustily he was raised into the air, purposefully giving him an unspeakably lewd aerial view of naked, wide open woman.

She left him there, hovering above her body to take her in fully in the moonlight. Mark could see her splayed tits, with nipples almost as long as his head sticking out of her massive mammaries. Her snatch was in full display, glistening with teeming, bubbling juices

“Look, Mark, I’m all yours… al that you see is yours to fuck”.

Then he was feet first inside her up to his chest, keeping eye contact while she kept her legs spread with her armpits on the back of her knees. His free hands took care of her clit and he had her squealing in no time. Soon after he was fucking her mouth as she laid down, offering herself anew. Not long after, they were on their way to their new life, across the desert.

Mark snapped out of his reverie just in time to show Becca around.

****

As soon as the tour of the house ended, Becca was climbing the scaffold, along with the camerawoman, to see the makeup girls at work. The photographer was already there. Zava had propped her chin against the top of the scaffold and the makeup crew were there, and by the looks of it, they had applied literally bucketfuls of base and were now working on her eyes.

Again, Becca found herself aghast when she was close to the giant woman’s face. If her eyes were intimidating seen from above, seeing them, or rather seeing it zeroing on her, as this close you could only look at one at a time, was daunting. Her eyes are bigger than my head! The fact that Zava was so breathtakingly beautiful made her only more formidable. Becca could see people worshiping her as a living goddess, she was that stunning, that overawing. But her personality was far from domineering. She seemed to be good-natured and easygoing. Becca had met her share of celebrities, male and female divas and by now she was quite at ease with Zava. She has not an ounce of conceit on her!

“How are the girls treating you, Zava?”

“Oh, it’s so nice having makeup pro’s around! I was never much good at makeup, to be sure, very minimalistic. I can’t wait to see myself!”

They applied eyeliner and blue eye shadow matching her dress. Then they powdered her nose, applied some subtle red on her cheekbones and then moved to her décolletage. Amused, Becca watched the makeup women strap climbing harnesses on and be helped by the sound engineers to secure safety ropes on Zava’s left thumb. Zava slid her gown shoulder straps aside to give the women room to work and then they climbed her hand with their gear and got to work, Zava moving them around her chest and neck as directed by the two clucking makeup artists making small talk with Zava as they worked with brushes as big as those used by people to paint houses.

The two women were completely dwarfed by Zava’s mountainous tits. Both of them could use her cleavage as a balcony, chuckled Becca to herself, looking in admiration at the twin, gigantic orbs. The photographer and camerawoman were having a field day, she also thought, glancing at the very busy image pros. Seeing the two women working on Zava’s vast chest Becca was sure they were getting images that would make the Globe view count skyrocket.

When the makeup session was finally over, they prepped Zava and Mark on the first takes they would shoot. They planned for a dramatic approach, Zava walking towards the camera with Mark in her hand, and then they filmed a mock-introduction with Becca, as the first time Zava did not have her makeup on. Then Becca had an idea…

“Could you pick me up, Zava?”

“Are you sure, Becca? I have been told that for you little people the experience can be unsettling”

“Well, I’m not afraid of heights”.

Actually, Becca was bluffing. She was afraid of heights but had long gotten over her rookie fears after all the helicopter travel and jobs he had to do over the years. In any case, she tried to suppress a shiver of fear at the prospect of being dozens of feet in the air… and nothing between the hard ground and herself but a hand… a giant hand, but how trustworthy was it? A single slip and she would be splattered on the hangar’s driveway… not everyone was indestructible like Zava.

… which again made O’Leary recall perhaps the thorniest subject in this interview, besides the giantess’s intimate activities with her fiancé: how had Zava survived what should have been a deadly explosion and a napalm inferno completely unscathed? Needless to say, this was not normal, and it had a lot of people worried, with good reason, Becca thought. The world is not prepared for an invulnerable, immortal being, and even less prepared for a giant, invulnerable, immortal one. And speaking of immortal, it was not inconceivable that the giant woman’s life span would be much longer than those of humans… human earthlings, at least. Zava’s very existence challenged humanity’s place in the universe, the sense of what was possible or not, and she was bound to have a big impact in humanity, perhaps with a presence spanning many future centuries. Everything about her was unprecedented.

Which begged the question: Was not an indestructible, deathless, supremely strong being, that can perhaps live forever, effectively a god, or a goddess, in this case? How long until people started worshipping her? And how long until the power, the years, got to the giant woman’s head? What would it be like outliving every acquaintance you made? Would she start to think of people as lesser, inconsequential and transitory beings?

“How shall we do this?” Zava’s sweet voice inquired from above, stopping Becca’s quick musings. “I’m told being picked up by me can be quite unsettling. To be sure, I do not like the idea of having people standing in the palm of my hand. I’d be afraid of dropping you. Grasping you only with two or three fingers also seems unsafe; also, my hands can sweat if I hold you for too long and that would stain your clothes”.

“Well, it would be only for a short time, as it would be awkward to talk to you from inside your fist longer than a few minutes, and all of us puny earthlings are going to get a crick on the neck real soon if we keep talking from your ankle’s height. Perhaps it would be best if you grabbed me with your whole fist from the waist down.  I’d keep my arms high, so they are not pinned, and I’d hold a handheld camera to take my POV of you picking me. We’d make a few takes from there and from the ground and then you could maybe sit down, and I would continue the interview from the upper platform of the scaffold once you put me there. Speaking of POV, we’d want to make a few takes of you looking down at us from your POV as well, though we’d have to think where we can strap the camera on your head”.

“Sounds cool. I think I’ll kneel to pick you up as bending over with this dress could be construed as indecent, and the height will be less for you as well”.

Becca and her crew set everything up and then she gave the thumbs up with both hands. Becca was a little dismayed when Zava, clearly unfamiliar with the gesture, looked at Mark for an explanation and he, from a distance, lifted his arms over his head with hands open, fingertips touching overhead in what was apparently the equivalent signal in Zava’s understanding.

Then the titanic brunette kneeled, and her hand, fingers splayed, extended towards the comparatively diminutive redhead.

**********

It had been a while since Zava had touched and picked up a little person other than Mark with her bare hands. Handling the clearly apprehensive and wide-eyed mini-woman was much different than grabbing her fiancé. Becca was much softer, and noticeably lighter; she also felt way more fragile than the brawny Mark. Zava deftly grabbed her first with three fingers and accommodated her in her fist before raising the little woman in front of her face with a slow but smooth movement. Zava could feel the little body in her hand tremble like a bird, warm and pliant between her fingers. Up close, the redhead was incredibly cute, with fiery, curly hair, very pale skin and extremely delicate, beautiful features with very red lips. This hair color was not very common in Bitagweh, Zava’s homeland, but it was not rare across the sea in the Eastern continent of Lur, and especially in the mountains south of Casibare.

Zava scrutinized the little woman, looking at her, wide, eyed in her hand, quite conscious of the redhead’s protuberant chest being flattened against her thumb. She remembered that time she had seen Mark’s friend, Betty, naked, and found herself curious of how Becca would look like nude in her hands. Out of simple curiosity, and not of any sexual attraction, Zava thought it would be interesting to be able to undress, examine and touch at leisure a naked little woman like Becca. Zava’s fertile imagination fueled by a healthy libido also thought it would be very exciting to have a little couple, man and woman, at her disposal to observe their sexual coupling in her hands, up close. When alone at home browsing the net she had inevitably found, rather by accident, porn, and had watched for a while, wide eyed at the incredible variety, before remembering all those people doing unspeakable things to each other were very small and not as big as they were projected in her big screen.

All this lasted but a few seconds before she remembered herself. The little redhead was looking at her in no less wonder.

“Are you comfortable?” Zava asked.

“Y-you were right, this is kind of scary. And being in your hand gets really warm, even hot”.

“Let’s drop you off, then”

Before things became awkward, and with a wistful smile, Zava reluctantly and very carefully dropped the reporter atop the scaffold.

******

Becca also scrutinized the giantess from within Zava’s fist. Zava’s hand felt soft and smelled really nice, but it also was terrifyingly strong, clearly capable of squeezing the life out of anyone without even trying. Each comparatively slender finger was more than half as wide as Becca’s torso and probably able to stop a full-sized car in its tracks and picking up a locomotive as if it was a toy.

Zava’s face was young and beautiful. She’s blushing again?  Her enormous eyes, full of intelligence looked serenely back at Becca’s, and she was put at ease by the giant being’s regard, not unlike someone looking at a cute kitten; Becca was the kitten. Looking into the vast brown eyes of the giant woman, guileless but sparkling with intelligence, and looking back at her was surreal.

The titaness’ complexion was flawless except for a little scar on her left cheekbone. Her face was tanned and smooth, with high cheekbones and full lips; fine, half-inch or so blond, almost iridescent, hairs were however visible on her face, even on the tip of her nose. Becca looked for any residual damage from the explosion and fire that had been unleashed on Zava just a few days ago, but there was absolutely no sign of any harm whatsoever. Not even her eyebrows look a bit singed…

Her hair was of course thick, completely straight with absolutely no hint of curliness and very shiny. On the way up to Zava’s face height, Becca tried not to stare at the enormous and conspicuous cleavage in front and below, rising and falling with the giantess breathing, the dark cleft between the impossible to ignore, enormous mammaries compelling the eyes to look. Becca found herself fascinated by the giantess’s lips when talking and it took her a second to register what was said and to answer. Then the moment ended, and she was let go. The interview continued.

****

A few hours later, Mark and Zava were lounging on their bed, watching the interview in their big projected screen directly from the Boston Globe YouTube Channel. Mark was lying on his favorite spot, between Zava’s breasts, idly stroking the underboob he was reclining against with his fingers, sending a delicious thrill all the way through her breast to her now almost painfully erect nipple…

Later... she thought, biting her lower lip. Zava watched herself answering the many questions put by the reporter. As always, she was amazed how big and strange she looked on camera from the earthlings’ perspective. Becca had said the camera people were a little over their heads at first trying not to make Zava look monstrous and looming and filming up Zava’s nose was not exactly flattering. They had mostly succeeded, but Zava was more than a little embarrassed at seeing inevitably, how big her feet and how thick her calves looked in the takes shot from ground level. Her breasts were also in the way except in the shooting done from the scaffold. The takes made from Becca’s perspective when she was in Zava’s fist were also unsettling as Zava’s features filled the whole screen. They had filmed also with a camera strapped to Zava’s forehead, but most of that footage had been discarded as, again, Zava’s boobs were a bit too much into the frame and too bouncy; the humans looked too puny and distant at her feet.

She had been asked many things about her world, other countries in Lur, how technologically advanced they were (not much, compared to Earth), etc. Many of these things had already been asked during her quarantine by the government. Becca, no doubt realizing this, steered the interview towards more personal affairs, like Zava’s people expected lifespan, which nobody had thought to ask about yet. Becca had been shocked to realize Zava would likely live almost three centuries more. This was one of the most painful realizations Zava had made early in her relationship with Mark, and she was almost inconsolable for quite a few days after Mark had told her that he was only likely to live for another 50 of his years, perhaps 35 in Lur’s reckoning of years.

Zava had been skillfully teased by the seasoned interviewer about more intimate details of her life with Mark, and she recounted the way she had met her now fiancé by actually capturing and kidnapping him, how she had rescued them from her sadistic friend Millan, and how they had been briefly reunited. Buz Zava, ashamed of her actions when she groped Mark dick against his will, glossed over that part, blushing noticeably, Zava realized with chagrin, watching herself squirm uncomfortably while trying not to stutter through that part.

Then Becca edged around the issue of her bodily intimacy with Mark, slyly suggesting Mark was well over his head. Here Zava laughed and assured Becca and her audience, with a twinkle in her eye, that she was more than satisfied and had been for the last few years, as Mark was very creative and athletic, she asserted, adding that Mark was ‘not afraid to plunge into a woman’s heart, and elsewhere as well’, eliciting a nervous laugh from the fiery reporter.

Afterwards the interview moved to other matters, such as how they had made it to Earth, which Zava again answered she had no idea, and the fact that all her friends and relatives back at Lur were likely thinking she had been kidnapped, or was lying dead on a creek or had been mauled and eaten by a forest animal. Here Zava teared up a little, and her voice broke as she acknowledged she did not know if she would speak with her parents and sister again. But, brightening, Zava said Mark had an idea for that and the US Military had promised to allow supervised trials to send messages to her family.

“How is being the only one of your race here on Earth” Had asked Becca. “Aren’t you lonely?” Zava answered that Mark and Zava had each other, but it was a bit daunting to be surrounded by such small, fragile beings all the time and that the most difficult thing in relating with earthlings was that most people were afraid of her at first. However, she said, “in the internet everybody is the same size”.

Nonetheless, Zava admitted, she was deathly afraid of hurting someone, as it was all too easy to inadvertently step on someone, kick someone with her toes when taking a step or sit on someone if she was not careful.

Finally, Becca asked about the aftermath of the attempt on Zava’s life and the implications of her coming entirely unhurt from such a violent, destructive event. Zava however assured Becca that she had felt the fire and the explosion and wasn’t looking forward to repeating the experience. She hoped, however, Zava said fiercely, that those responsible had gotten the message that she would not be denied her vengeance by anyone, if something happened to Mark.

The interview ended in a lighter tone when Becca had asked Zava about more mundane things as her favorite Earth foods, and things like that. Zava also said that if they wanted to know more about Mark and her they would have to wait for her book, which she hoped to have ready within the year. The last take was of a grinning Zava and a clearly lovestruck Mark standing on her cleavage as if in a balcony.

They had not mentioned in the interview that Zava had insisted on Mark making a few tests of her purported indestructibility, as Zava was worried that her grooming was going to be a problem if, for instance, her pubic hairs (and upper lip hair, which she wanted Mark to remove before the interview) were now unbreakable and unshavable; she also did not want to end up like a madwoman with her uncuttable hair growing all the way and beyond her feet (and what about her nails?). But Mark had shaved her lip and other parts with no more trouble than it ever had been. At Zava’s insistence, he had even drawn blood from her left pinkie’s fingertip with the razor. That left both of them puzzled and worried.

It was only by accident that they discovered that Zava seemed to only be susceptible by harm when it came from Mark. When taking a walk outside with Mark on her cleavage, as always, Mark head a terrible snapping sound and insisted on being let down to examine the ground at Zava’s feet. To his dismay and amazement, he discovered that Zava had stepped on a knee-high tuft of grass, underneath which there was what seemed to be a bent 20-inch long, three-inch thick bezeled steel flange. It had gone all the way through Zava’s sandal; the snapping sound was the concrete base of the flange shattering under the stress. At Mark’s prompting, she showed him her foot sole, which was completely unmarked.  Looking around the grass, Zava found another steel flange protruding from the ground, which Mark said seemed to be the foundations of an old electrical or radio tower, which had been carelessly cut in the past, leaving a part on the ground.

Despite Mark’s protests, Zava pressed her fingertip against the sturdy metal edge, bending it effortlessly and flattening it against the ground, without drawing blood or making a scrath in her finger. More experiments proved Zava’s skin and hair seemed to be impervious to burns, cuts and scratches… as long as anyone but Mark was doing the harm; not even Zava could do herself any harm. This had enormous implications, as it meant Zava was no longer able to cut her own hair, do her eyebrows, nose hairs, armpits, her fingernails or shave herself anywhere. All this would have to be done by Mark, likely for ever… or for as long as he lived… and then what?  She thought, with a twinge of hurt in her heart. Will I, could I withstand centuries in this world after his inevitable death?

Alicia Li was taking the sun with her boyfriend on Avila Beach. They had come early to avoid the crowds, but there were a few people around already, even children. The sun was warm, not hot and the sea had been warm as well, not chilly as it always was in her native Canada. I’m glad we took this vacation, she thought, looking aside to see her boyfriend Quentin smiling back at her, her hands intertwined. She stretched her lithe, pale body lazily in the towel. Her mother back home had warned her against traveling to America because the cops were not exactly friendly there and she was only a petite Asian woman. But Alicia was not to be denied her vacation and traveled anyway. Then, a small commotion on the beach caught her attention. She rose on her elbows and looked around.

She noted with some alarm that a police vehicle had arrived and three officers, wearing dark shades against the sun, stepped out, looking around warily, trying not to call attention to themselves. Just what we needed… has there been a crime? Are they looking for a perp? But they looked mostly at the sea, expectantly, only sparing some glances at the people around them. She looked at Quentin, who only shrugged.

Nothing happened for a while, and Alicia lay back again, stretching a pale leg, possessively, on top of one of her boyfriend’s and was drifting to sleep in the nice warmth, when she heard someone gasp audibly behind her. She sat up and noticed people were looking to the sea. A dark shape was parting the waves mightily a few hundred meters from the shore.

Then Alicia’s mouth went slack as a giant figure rose from the churning waves. A tanned, statuesque figure stood up, throwing back her head, her wet hair whipping back with a mighty splash. A woman, the woman from the news, the giant alien, no doubt. Shapely, enormous arms rose and wrung the water from the shadowy locks, the towering body bending over a little. Enormous breasts swung with these movements, precariously held only by a lapis-colored bikini top with a matching bottom below. Below this, sculpted, athletic thighs, as olive as the rest of her, started to stride carefully towards the beach, water coming first just mid-thigh, then gradually, as the sea grew shallower with her every step, well-rounded calves became visible; finally the giantess came completely onto dry ground, the sand almost crackling under her toes and her gargantuan weight.

 Shading her eyes from the sun with one hand, the other on her waist, the giantess surveyed the beach calmly, a smile on her meter-wide lips, white teeth gleaming. She spotted the policemen. A small (to the giantess) dry bag in matching blue was hanging from her waist.

“G’day officers” the booming, husky and accented tones of the giantess startled Alicia even more. “Where can we sit?” Armed with a loudspeaker, the cops gave instructions to the giantess, who seemed satisfied and started to stride daintily towards Alicia on her massive tiptoes. She barely had time to stir in alarm, when the cops advised everyone to stay where they were until Zava had settled.

Her mouth grew even more agape as the monstrous legs were swung above her and she could only see colossal, jiggling breasts jutting like boulders, a giant chin, dark nostrils and of course the mammoth crotch covered with the blue cloth, disappearing between the crack of the giantess’ ass. This remembered Alicia she had a boyfriend, and her surprise subsided enough to spare a glance at Quentin, who was gaping even more and clearly gawking at the giant assets overhead. Alicia, lips thinning, punched him in the arm. He looked away sheepishly, not daring to utter a word. An argument would surely have ensued, if it weren’t because the giantess voice thundered again:

“Coming down!”

Zava settled about 20 meters to Alicia’s side, on the least occupied portion of the miles-long beach. The mighty behind descended and crashed on the sand, lovely buttocks flattening under the weight as the giantess sat cross-legged, Indian style, the bag set aside close to her hip.

It was then when Alicia saw there was a man, wearing black swimming shorts, on the giantess’ shoulder, clinging to her hair. The giantess hand deftly plucked him from there when she had settled, her arm behind her supporting her. As Zava’s back was turned to Alicia, she did not get to see where the man had been put aground.

After setting the bag with her and Mark’s lunch and other items beside her. At least I do not have to worry about anyone stealing our little lunch bag here, thought Zava, in a mischievous mood.

She took Mark from her hair, where he was clinging ever since she carefully went into the sea in the rocky cliffs near their home to swim the few miles to this beach and deposited him between her crossed legs. She smiled down at him, her crotch already tingling hungrily as he stood just in front of the flimsy triangle of cloth, hidden from view from the other people in the beach by her encircling legs. Before she had time to utter a word, he deflty slid his wet, hard body between her skin and the bikini bottom. She gasped as she felt his body slither across her pubes and come on the other side of the triangle. After Looking around, face flushed, she locked eyes with a very pale, Asian woman standing with a man beside her a little distance to Zava’s left, who was looking at Zava with wide eyes and wide mouth and looked away, flustered.  You little devil! Mark looked up at her sweetly before slipping under one of her knees, partly lifted from the ground. She did not let him escape and plucked him unceremoniously with three fingers and let him go on top of her thigh. He crawled to her hip and lay back with his back against it. Zava sat there, arms propped behind her and looked at the sea with Mark. She was uncomfortably aware that everything she said would be overheard by most little people at the beach. All the troubles of the last month finally seemed behind them. She looked around at the little people in the beach, who were keeping their distance for now.

“Mark?”  

“Yes, Zav?”

“How long do you think we have?   Until something happens again”

“I don’t know Zav. That is why we should try to live life to the fullest, one day at a time; after what we have been through, anything can happen. But we will live it out, together, never fear. never forget I love you…”.

“I love you, too”. She could not shake a vague sense of unease, but she attributed it to the fact that everyone at the beach was staring at her and that she was almost naked, but rationalizing that she had nothing to fear from the tiny beings, she tried to shrug it off.

******

A few hundred meters to the east, on a rocky, scrubby hill, major Mackenzie Adams was looking through the scope of her rifle, already sweating under her Ghillie suit. She had been laying there all night, as she had been informed of the giantess plan to come to the beach and was already in position to get a shot at the alien with her 30mm sniper rifle, loaded with depleted uranium rounds. She had been briefed only a few days ago, and she was explicitly told she was chosen because she had been one of the best shooters in the army and because she was a woman. They had told her that three other attempts with male officers had failed as for some reason, the snipers had balked at the last second and refused to shoot, losing their nerve and fleeing. Adams was determined not to draw back. It was a matter of national security, they had said. To her, it was a matter of pride.

What Adams did not know was that the team that col. McAllister’s had secretly and personally assigned to protect Zava with hand-picked airmen, had caught each one of the snipers as they tried to flee the area. Right now, they were looking for Adams frenziedly, as they were informed there was another, the last one one in the mission.

Despite the more than a half mile to the target, the shot was easy, thought Adams, with the giant alien’s enormous noggin being an excellent target. She could see the monstrous woman’s temple through her computerized scope, and the bullet was also equipped with a self-directing head that could correct for wind and other factors as long as Adams kept the laser on her target. Adams breathed deeply a few times, and feeling a strange hesitation starting to come upon her, let the air slowly out of her lungs as she softly and resolutely squeezed the trigger. She was startled as in this exact same instant the giantess head turned and seemed to look directly at her, but the bullet had flown. Unsilenced, the shot rang as a thunderclap across the ravines below, well after the supersonic projectile reached its victim. Then everything went black.

“Owww!” Zava cried, her hand flying to her eye. A sharp pain had stung her just behind her right eyebrow. She rubbed the painful spot, frowning in annoyance. She had turned her head as she saw something from the corner of her right eye. A hornet?  She thought before remembering that she was no longer in Lur and she would not be even able to see, much less feel, a hornet from these parts.

“What happened?” Said Mark, startled, as thunder out of the blue could be heard seconds later. Mark looked up quizzically, frowning as there was not a single cloud in the desert sky.

“Something pricked me near my eye!” Zava said “I think it came from there!” Zava’s slender arm pointed to some scrubby knolls well to the east. A thin column of smoke was rising from there.

Mark pulled out his phone and send McAllister a quick message and a waypoint of the hills. Given what had happened in the last days with people being caught not so far from their home, apparently hired spies, it was a good idea to err on the side of caution. “Let me see” Said Mark. Zava picked him up and got him close to the spot, eyes closed so she did not get cross-eyed looking at Mark so closely. Pain had already faded. Her lovely skin was unmarked. “I don’t see….” But then his blood froze. There was something shiny on her eyebrow. “Get me closer!” Zava complied until she felt Mark’s hands just below her right eyebrow, close to her nose bridge.

Mark carefully pinched what looked like a fingernail-sized, shiny metal piece of shrapnel, tangled in Zava’s thick eyebrow hair. It was surprisingly heavy. Where the hell did this come from?

“What is it?” Said Zava as she felt Mark’s ticklish little fingers pushing apart her eyebrow’s hairs to get at something.

“Er… no idea… looks like a piece of metal…” he tossed it away. Zava put mark down on the sand.

“Hello… lady?” a voice piped from the side.

Zava turned her head and saw a group of teenagers in bathing suits, boys and girls, standing in a line a few meters (to them) to her left.

“Oh! Hello!” Said Zava, smiling shyly. The police officers who had appeared earlier started to approach, menacingly, but Mark waved them away.

“You live close to Avila?” Said one of the group, a dark-skinned young lady with a very abundant mop of curly hair.

“Yes, up in the hills” Zava said.

“So, we’ll see you around often”.

“Most likely! This is a nice spot, and the water is warm and very nice!” Said Zava.  “What about you guys? I’m Zava, by the way”

“I’m Trisha, and these are Bobby, Santy, Yahaira, Cat and Piv”. They all waved, wide eyed, noted Zava, looking closely at her reactions. “We’re all from around here! We saw you in the news!”

“Hey, is that a football?” Said Zava, pointing at a yellow ball one of the guys, Santy, was carrying under his arm”. The young people all laughed.

“It’s a ball, all right”, said Trisha, clearly the bolder of the group. “A Volley-ball” …

“Oh! I’m sorry… never heard of if…” said Zava. “what do you do with it?””

Suddenly Trisha’s face lit with inspiration.

“Whaddaya say if we showed you? Wanna play?”

Zava beamed.

McAllister was in his office, frowning at this new, disquieting report. A female sniper, pointing towards the giantess, had been found on a hill near the beach where Zava was with Mark. Her smoldering, dead body (the sharpshooter turned to be a woman) was horribly mangled by an anti-armor, depleted uranium round just like the ones loaded into what remained of her rifle. According to his people on the scene, the bullet had seemingly entered through the rifle’s barrel all the way back to the chamber, destroying the weapon and then it sliced through the skull and torso of the prone female shooter, the incendiary round igniting her clothes, besides. The anti-materiel heavy caliber had wrought havoc on the dead woman, making facial recognition impossible. With the three other people, in this case men who had been captured near Zava’s living quarters, quite likely ex-militaries working for CIA or the like, their biometric and DNA data did not yield any results in any database, which had of course been erased by whoever had hired them. McAllister suspected this would be the case with the dead woman…

The colonel shuddered at the callousness of the people who ordered the hit with the deadly and toxic ammunition on American soil… there was but little doubt who had pulled the strings… but who counterattacked and how? His people confirmed there were no other suitable points for shooting for miles and the female shooter had managed to shoot one round first, judging by the empty cartridge case besides the corpse.

“Very eerie, colonel”, had said captain Singh of Zava’s the protective detail in the video call. “It would seem as if immediately after she made the shot, someone shot back and the projectile entered the way the other came out directly into the barrel of the gun, in exactly the same trajectory that the exiting shot, and of course it went through the rifle and then the shooter’s body, which was behind the rifle, killing her instantly. A shot in a million!  No human could have done this, it had to be done by an automated system responding to the shot being made, but I cannot think where from or how they did it!! Perfect retribution!”

Indeed… thought McAllister, shaken to his core… divine retribution.