An old widescreen TV crackled to life. Upon its dirtied screen, a series of different images of hulking monstrosities came up. Channel after channel, news anchor after news anchor, each droned on with the same incessant story. Images of great and terrifying beasts loomed by like a mugshot. A dark-haired man of average height and stocky build paced the apartment. Francois’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He rubbed the bristles of five-o'clock shadow on his broad chin. Work no doubt. They were probably asking him about the status of something. Or worse, Jennifer could be in trouble. He pushed the thought out, electing to ignore it and instead flop onto the couch. It was a piece of furniture so weathered and worn that the cushions had sunk down and the leather had cracked to reveal the mesh beneath. Breathe in. Breathe out. He huffed a sigh, put his feet up on the coffee table, and cracked open a cold beer. Francois uncoiled his tie from his shirt neck and felt as though the hangman’s noose had slipped away. Work was over for just a little while. Jennifer would be fine. She would be home soon and they could relax and enjoy the weekend. The news blared louder as if the presenters had somehow overheard his concern.

“A stunning victory for the Titaness-” Reported one news anchor.

“Up the three Abyssals went on the attack at the city of-” Blared the next.

“Officials are now saying this is an even greater escalation in the conflict against the-” 

Francois pinched his forehead and flicked to the next set. When it appeared to be a fruitless endeavour to stop thinking about work, he scanned around the apartment instead. So many slight cracks both on the floor and ceiling. Each one he spotted made him tut in annoyance and seemed only to compound the frustration of the workday. His head throbbed, but the smooth flow of chilled beer helped to alleviate the stress. When he looked around the apartment more, the alcohol numbed him to the filth around him. From one problem to the next.

Beyond the most obvious damage was the aged white walls, akin to a sickly pale colour, had stains down them, the carpet was thick with fluff, hair and other small bits that needed to be hoovered. The small wooden coffee table in front of him was filled with empty mugs, beer cans and takeaway boxes such that there was only enough room for him to put his feet upon it. He looked left at the open kitchen. Filthy plates stacked high like towers overflowed the sink, with row upon row of glasses and mugs needing washing before they were overwhelmed by dirt. Grease, which had splattered from the pans sitting on the induction cookers of the stovetop, now formed a thick layer on the countertops that almost caused it to shine under the dying light of the overhanging light bulb. He dared not imagine the state of the bedroom, yet his mind eye conjured the images for him. All the floor around the bed would be lined with creased clothes strewn about for washing. The bed sheets would be turned over and ragged. Plus, there would be the rickety wardrobes devoid of all their contents save for lonely wire hangers. 

With his growing anxiety, Francois was about to look at the bathroom but was interrupted when a click came from the front door to his right. Twenty paces away from the widescreen television was a cramped entryway that snaked into the expanse of the living room. A tall costumed woman slipped through, cursing how the door seemed to jam, allowing her only a tight slit to squeeze through. Francois cast a sideways glance at her and sipped more of his beer. He leaned forward, grabbed an ice-cold can and then chucked it at her. She had barely made it through the door when it came arcing towards her. Even as she sighed and focused on wiping off alien bits of turquoise liquid from her costume, the woman caught the beer with perfect precision without even seeing it coming at her. 

“You could have done that outside you know.” Francois stated matter of factly, his brow furrowing. All that worrying was for nothing. He masked his relief as best he could.

Jennifer flicked the luminescent gunk from her costume, grimacing at the gunk as it slopped onto the doormat. “I was in a rush to get home. Besides, we would have the landlord complaining,” she retorted.

“He’s still going to complain if clean that stuff off in on out of the apartmen-”

A pungent odour crept up on Francois. A malign smell of rotting fish and the salt sea air ambushed him. All the beer welled back up in an instant. He gagged. Barely able to handle the series of wretches, Francois held his nose to save himself from the agony. “Christ almighty!” 

He held back his revulsion and shouted at Jennifer. “Get in the god damn shower right fucking now!”

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad…” 

Jennifer’s words trailed off as she saw how Francois was on the verge of vomiting. Even the dead did not look as pale as Francois did. He was willing to suffocate himself if it meant not breathing in any more of the foul tainted air that Jennifer had brought in. She brought a bit of the gunk before her nose. A quick sniff. Her muted expression revealed that she found nothing odorous or foul about it, and so she shrugged with indifference. Seeing Francois on the verge of passing out convinced her that there might be something she was missing. Maybe she had grown accustomed to it or she had a stronger stomach for such repugnancy.

With a heavy sigh, she placed her beer precariously onto a stack of pizza boxes on the coffee table. Behind the couch, back ten paces and tucked into the left corner was the doorway to the bathroom. Turning on the light revealed the grime-covered tiles, a squalid bathtub, a cramped shower unit, a sink and toilet, both of which their porcelain white had been replaced with a yellowy veneer. With a weary exhale, Jennifer closed the door behind her and started taking off her costume. The white suit was striped with thick lines of purple. It bore a large golden T emblazoned across her chest. Her outfit encapsulated so much of her body that it only left hands and feet free from its confines. It adhered to her body so tightly that one would have thought it had melded with her skin. Pulling at it by the neck, Jennifer wrestled down the costumer passed her shoulders, rolling its fabric more and more, grunting in frustration as it caught upon her hips. With one final tug, she breathed a sigh of relief as it fell down past her thighs and bundled onto the tiled floor.

A strained metallic grinding gave way to tinny rattling and half-hearted gurgling. The shower sputtered to life. At this point, the ghastly stink of decaying bloated whale carcasses and washed-up schools of dead fish hung heavy in the air. Gagging, Francois sprung from the sofa, unable to bear the scent anymore. He ducked into the bedroom in the right-hand corner out of a desperate desire to get some reprieve from the stagnant air of the apartment. Within the bedroom, all manner of clothes were strewn upon the floor. His imagination how downplayed the state of disrepair within. Two bedside cabinets sat on either side of the filthy mattress, its wooden frame it rests upon looking as though it was on its last legs and barely standing. Wardrobes, with their doors slightly open, had creased shirts and black work trousers on the hangers and upon the dressing table was a mix of makeup, deodorant cans, perfume and aftershave bottles forming a wall to block a mirror, its glass caked with dust. 

Here, he could at least breathe and focus. Now that his senses could operate once more without being oppressed by the deadliest stench that he ever had the misfortune of sampling, Francois procured a towel from one of the many piles and warmed it on a radiator. Unwilling to dare face such an overwhelming odour until he was forced to, he sat on the bed. As the shower began to die down, the pipework gurgling subsided as the water faded, and he steeled himself for the trial. Now imbued with the warmth of the radiator, Francois took the towel, held his breath and charged back into the living room. Skirting along the wall and reaching the bathroom door, he unlocked it and passed the towel into the gap for Jennifer, which was quickly snatched from his hands. 

Unable to hold any longer, he took in a deep breath. Where he had expected to have his lungs filled with the poisoned air, to his surprise, the rank and revolting smell had dissipated. He could not tell if it was because he was now accustomed to the stench or that Jennifer had washed off whatever foulness had clung to her. Glorious relief at last. He never wanted to smell such a thing ever again. If he could scour the memory, he would do so gladly. Nothing should in this world matched such putricity.

Sitting back on the couch now free from the horror, Francois could finally sip his beer in peace. He watched the television blare story upon story detailing the heroic battle between the Titaness and the Abyssals, these otherworldly colossal beings born in the trenches of the darkest depths of the sea. That was the story told to them by the media at least. No one really knew the answer, despite all the supposed research into it. Groups of these things would march out from the ocean and wreak havoc, yet none could produce an answer as to why they seemingly sought the extinction of humanity. Academics from every form of study gave their hypothesis as to why this event continued to occur around the globe. Some believed them to be ancient lifeforms that had evolved on the ocean bed, hiding where the suns light could not penetrate nor where anyone could disturb their slumber, or that these were the last survivors of a race that settled onto Earth long before humanity and were now attempting to reclaim the surface. Theories abounded. It captured the imagination, posing numerous questions and giving back no concrete answer. His chain of thought was broken as the bathroom door clicked.  

“Thanks for the towel babe.”

Coming out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around her, Francois sat mesmerised. It had been a common sight, but it never ceased to make his heart go aflutter. A thick flowing mane of red hair that reached down to her shoulders and coloured as rich and exuberant as a field of a thousand roses in bloom gave way to strong noble features. Unnatural golden eyes like soft burning stars made her pupils gleam bright. Though partially masked by the long towel, her fit build was hard to disguise. Slim around the shoulders but broad at the hips, with well-defined muscles akin to a runner’s physique. At this moment, Jennifer settled on a more average height, matching him in size, yet such things meant little to her. She came round the sofa, sat beside Francois and cracked open the beer she had left.

“So… What are they going on about?”

When the spell she had cast on him waned, he was able to reply. “You know… The usual. Singing your praises, talking about how amazing you are, another stunning victory, etcetera etcetera.”

“Just another day at the office.” She grinned.  

Francois rubbed his chin and grimaced. “Three has got to be your new record right?”

“Yep, but it was no hassle.”

He glanced at the screen. A clash between woman and monster started to come on screen. Jennifer was front and centre. “Clearly.”

“Well!” She stretched out. Her joints clicked as she released all the tension. “I’m happy to keep the end of the world at bay for a while longer. How was your day?”

“Same old really. Analysis, meetings and reports for nearly ten hours straight. Almost as exciting as fighting those Abysalls really.”

“You didn’t stop working?” 

Francois huffed like a pent-up bull. The very thought made him tighten his grip on his beer can. “We never even left the office. The work was considered too important to stop for something so mundane as three whole Abyssals attacking.”

Jennifer snorted and buried herself deeper into her couch. There was a subtle hint of terrible concern on her face. “I’m glad you are okay though.”

“Same with you hun.”

They both watched the reports coming in and footage of a giant woman clad in a white costume. The Titaness battled with fearsome abominations emerging from the sea. White foamy water cascaded as they stood upright. The red-haired beauty poised herself like a boxer, facing her first foe. A ghastly abomination with the head of an angler fish and a dark carapace body like a scorpion. One of its arms was a long tentacle,  the other a lobster claw so mighty yet unwieldy the creature was forced to drag it through the sea waters. As this beast lunged forward, its horrifying maw arrayed with sharp teeth of uneven size, some like little picks whilst others rivalled the tallest stalactites, sped towards the giant with unnatural swiftness. Francois looked at Jennifer. He inspected her body. No scars or blemishes. Not even a singular mark. It was going to be a slaughter.

The Titaness pivoted to left, evading the bite. With a deft slap, she struck the aberration of nature with a backhand with such force that the head was blown away in a single instance. Glowing luminescent blood sprayed onto the beach and the surrounding buildings. A thunderous clap heralded an explosive shockwave. Its strength threw the cameraman off balance. When the camera returned, it focused on the dying monster. It used its octopus-like tentacle to search for its missing head for a moment as if it were confirming it was no longer there. Then, it slumped onto the ground with an earth-shattering crash. Turning to the other two creatures marching from the depths of the ocean, the Titaness surged forward with terrifying speed. Francois felt uncomfortable. Nothing that big, not even Jennifer, should be able to move so quickly at such a height. The cameraman took ample opportunity to zoom in on the woman’s shapely backside, how it jiggled beneath the suit with each of her earthquake-inducing steps. Jennifer tutted in disgust. 

She took a long sip of her beer. “God, you would think they would make it less obvious they were focusing on my ass.”

Francois chuckled. “Maybe you can write to them and complain, ‘Dear 7TV News, please stop zooming in on my ass, sincerely The Titaness.’” 

Jennifer leaned onto him and sighed. “I could go to their HQ and sit on it if they love staring at it so much.”

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in closer. “I don’t think a sit-down protest works too well if you are liable to go crashing through the building.” 

She let her head rest on his shoulder and smiled, “With the crap they put on TV, I’m sure I would get thanked for my services to the city.”

Both of them gave a soft hearty laugh. ‘The Titaness Bests Beasts From The Deeps’ ran the headline beneath footage of her combatting the other two monstrosities. They flailed with their litany of limbs in a clumsy attempt to harm Jennifer. Some connected though more in part of her allowing them to strike her. Francois reckoned she had gotten too lazy to even bother avoiding them. It was as though their attacks were nothing more than pitiful slaps. For all their lauded strength, the two Abysalls were unable to leave a tear in her suit let alone stall her charge. 

In the blink of an eye, singular explosive punches blew away such creatures, the force of her strikes seemingly atomising their upper halves. Their shredded carcasses fell, smashing onto the sea, the water parting from the impact and then rushing back in to quickly swallow their remains. With her defeated foes strewn about her, the giant stepped over a creature and then rested her foot on its corpse. Glowing blood slid down her suit, pooling in the crevices that outlined the extent of her brawn. Her defined abs and thick thighs glisten with otherworldly light. The ocean water shimmered with ethereal fluorescence whilst she posed for the cameras like a trophy hunter proudly displaying their dead prey. Jennifer beamed a hearty smile and flashed a V sign as a score of cheers erupted from the nearby crowds.

Francois let out a mocking whistle. “You certainly know how to draw a crowd.”

Jennifer shrugged her shoulders. “The police are meant to keep them away. I guess they think recording or streaming the fight will net them some money or followers.”

“Christ…” Francois’ voice trailed off, insulted by the notion that there were those stupid enough to get a front-row seat, “Are they not afraid you might lose?”

From his peripheral sight, he saw golden eyes boring into him. Jennifer's scowl was enough to make mountains tremble. 

“I don’t lose. None of us do.” Her voice was stern.

He scoffed in response, taking on an air of brevity to alleviate the seriousness. “Sure you don’t! No shame in admitting you guys get your ass beat every once in a while.” 

A low metallic groaning arose, like iron or steel placed under incredible duress. Francois’ grasp of Jennifer slipped away as the couch quaked, unable to bear the burden placed upon it. When he turned to her, the towel around her body shrunk further and further, tightening ever more around her as her hips pushed him away to the side. Jennifer looked down on him as she grew taller, doubling his height until she could lurch over him. A snide grin ran across her face.  

“Want to try your luck then?” She coyly remarked.

Francois looked down. Something more pressing was taking place. The sofa cried out from the stress of the giant now sitting on it. He yelled out in horror, “God damn it Jenn! Don't grow on the co-” 

A series of snaps sang out like twigs breaking beneath a heavy tread, startling them both, The couch beneath them buckled as it crashed to the floor. Jennifer tumbled forward onto Francois, colliding with him during her slow and steady growth. The sofa then shifted and fell backwards, and they both rolled onto the floor, with Jennifer pinning Francois to the floor. The apartment rumbled as the giant crashed onto the ground, trapping the poor man beneath her. For Francois, it felt like being stuck beneath an endless tide of fluffy pillows that he could not escape, much to his chagrin. Despite such softness, he shouted out his protests, yelling for her to get off him. Yet they were muffled beneath her physique. When finally she stood up to her full height, her head reached the ceiling. Francois followed suit. He stood next to the giant and he appeared more diminished in size, more like a child than a full-grown man next to her. In a blink of an eye, he now found that he rose no higher than her hips, staring at the towel desperately trying to cling on around her waist. Rubbing his back as the pain of having her weight lumped onto him settled in, he looked at the remains of the overturned coach and muttered to himself. He then shot a dark frown at Jennifer. 

The metallic groaning halted. Jennifer folded her arms around her naked chest, avoiding looking down at Francois, instead of focusing on the stained ceiling right in front of her face.

“I guess the couch lost,” she said.

He rolled his eyes, sighed and went rolling the couch back up. Seeing him struggle, Jennifer squatted down and tipped it back with little effort. The sudden shift almost sent Francois flying forward like he had been launched from a catapult, not fully expecting such a violent change in force. Without the supports, the couch now sat lower to the floor, now more akin to a lounging chair. The metallic groaning came back once more and Jennifer shrunk down several feet in height and then flung herself over, laying down on the couch. Though now smaller in height, she still encompassed the sofa such that she filled its breadth. From head down to legs, she hung over the armrests by a few feet. 

Francois grumbled under his breath, walking around to see the overturned coffee table. All of its contents were disturbed from their resting place, having now instead littered the carpet. He dragged the table up with a grunt. 

“If you are going to do that, please let me know in advance. I don’t think we can afford to buy another one of these so soon after the last one.”

As he picked up the bits of rubbish on the floor, Jennifer's hand wrapped around his frame. He was whisked through the air as though he weighed no more than a feather to her. In the next instance, he had been deposited onto her midriff and he saw her statuesque face beaming a gentle and welcoming smile at him. Resting on her abs should have been uncomfortable, yet there was a subtle warmth to her that made him want to bury himself deeper in her. Francois could feel the steady beating of her heart, how her breathing made him bob up and down to a slow rhythm. It should have terrified him knowing just how easily Jennifer could levy her strength, but lazing on top of her made it all melt away. There was something comforting about it, knowing that someone so strong was by your side at all times.   

“Duly noted,” she winked at him. Jennifer stroked his hair, softly caressing the curls as they sat watching more footage of the day’s fights.

A reel of highlights came with a panel of guests debating and giving their thoughts. An academic fellow, or at least what Francois assumed he was judging by the bow tie and tweed jacket, droned on about the victories of the giants against the Abyssals, how the tide had been turned in their favour. The discussion noted how every town, village or city by the coast had their own giant to turn to for defence against these deep-sea invaders and each had not suffered any catastrophic loss of life since their arrival. This cadre of women who could match the power of these monstrosities had more or less prevented the continual ravaging of the coastline. He selected some examples to highlight this fact and Jennifer sighed in exasperation.

“Can we change the channel?” She did not bother waiting for a response and scanned for the remote, frowning in annoyance when she could see it.  

First on-screen came the Empress, a blonde-haired beauty that had defended the capital from such a number of the beasts their casualties totalled an army. One couldn't imagine such a supermodel being able to unleash such devastation, especially when she was waving and blowing kisses at all her adoring fans. You expected that more from the aptly named Harrower, a dour-looking heroine with raven-coloured locks who slaughtered her way through Abyssals. Each had their own nickname, but each boasted height and strength once thought unfathomable for a human. In his analysis, the academic underpinned how their arrival into the conflict had been nothing less than a miracle. Francois could only agree with him. There had been dark days when the city had been transformed into a military base with what felt like thousands of guns pointed toward the sea. They should have been evacuated, but there was nowhere to go. Some left, and many refused to depart, instead opting to help defend their home in whatever way they could. Seeing the giants on his screen brought back those horrifying memories, of clarion calls ringing in the night as a score of artillery pieces roared into life. It all came now as a terrible nightmare, something that felt not quite real, even though he had experienced those long terrible nights.

Jennifer threw her head about, becoming more frustrated as this panel compared the Titaness’s performance to the other giants. Finding the remote tucked behind a pizza box on the carpet, she exclaimed “Aha! There you are you!”

The metallic droning arose once more and Jennifer began to spill over the couch once more, leaning over to the side to pick up the remote, delicately picking it up between her two fingertips. Francois slapped her abs, but it felt as though he had just punched a brick wall. 

Nursing the stinging pain in his hand by shaking it, he gritted his teeth. “Seriously Jenn, stop being so lazy! You’re going to bring down the whole apartment!”  

Dropping the remote onto her small partner, she then closed her eyes and stretched herself out, moaning in delight during the process. The towel around her waist slipped away as she bit her lip. Francois pounded her midriff again and a sharp pain went coursing its way up his arm. If he punched her anymore, he might very well shatter all the bones in his hand. A harsh cracking sound arose as her expanding form began to overwhelm the couch. Centimetre by gradual centimetre, Jennifer doubled in size, lost in the sensation of her growth. An idle hand slithered its way to her abs, feeling out the crevices of her defined brawn and then finding upon Francois’s doll-like body, stroked him with her tender touch. The other cupped her breast and started to massage it. She bit her lip, whispering to herself, enraptured with the ecstasies of becoming taller and taller.

Though her soothing touch tempted him, he fought the urge with every ounce of willpower. Francois took in the horrifying reality that Jennifer was about to plough the walls if she did not halt her growth. He bellowed “Stop! For god’s sake, stop!”

Jennifer’s head shook as she snapped back to reality. Her head reached one end of the living room with he feet reaching into the kitchen. By some miracle, the sofa had buckled only slightly against the overwhelming tide of her backside, somehow supporting her mighty bulk rather than being crushed flat. The coffee table had been less fortunate, her hips pushing it over, the wooden frame now dented thanks to being wedged between the floor and the onslaught of her growth. On her abs, Francois’s piercing gaze bore into her with a scowl that could cause make statues tremble. It was hard to be intimidating when you were barely the size of a small doll, but Francois tried his best.

“Oh right… Sorry about that.” 

Her voice, though timid, had become lower and more powerful, making her words bassy enough for Francois to feel his chest rumble from its strength. Focusing herself, clenching her fists, a subtle whine akin to an engine winding down emanated as she shrunk down in height. Soon, Jennifer returned to her still stultifying amazonian-like height. In a vain attempt to hide her embarrassment, she held a hand to her cheek. Seeing just how frustrated Francois sent her complexion to a blistering red that was almost as deep and sanguine as her luxurious mane. 

He huffed and looked up. Another crack was added to the apartment ceiling. “Still finding it hard to focus?” 

Francois rubbed the back of his head, his hands now lightly pulsing with the leftover vestiges of pain. No wonder those Absyalls stood no chance against her. Punching tungsten would have been softer than what he had endured. It was an odd conundrum, for he sat on her body and felt it be so soft it was though he were lounging onto a memory foam pillow. Perhaps, he wondered, Jennifer’s physique hardened in response to physical force. It would explain how those terrifying creatures that could topple buildings and treat brick and concrete like bits of wet tissue but had their teeth or limbs shatter when attacking her. More worrying than that would be the casual ease of her smashing through the walls of the apartment or causing the floor to crack and shatter. He imagined the neighbours below hearing this reverberating sound of reinforced metal being rent asunder rise as a terrible dirge, only to see the ceiling above them shower them with dust as little fissures formed then split wide as two great buttocks followed by the athletic form of a giant woman come tumbling down onto them. 

“Yeah…” Jennifer, panting heavily as though all the breath in her lungs had been stolen away, used the rhythm of her breathing to centre herself. “I nearly lost myself there.”

Sliding off her abs, Francois landed on the carpet, tutting at ruins of the coffee table. Surveying his apartment with rising agitation, taking in his kingdom of mess and trash with its amazonian queen laying on her broken throne, he stretched himself. A click came from his back. When he was done, a heavy sigh came. The timing could not be better. A perfect excuse to finally do what needed to be done.

“Maybe getting the cleaning done will help you focus.”

Jennifer’s groan was like that of a petulant child being told to do their chores, “It's the weekend Francois.”

“Right, so we have got no excuse.”

“I’ve been at work all day, saving the city and whatnot.” Jennifer wiggled on the couch, burying herself deeper. Evidently, she was bunkering down.

“And I’ve been at work as well.” He retorted, crossing his arms.

“Abyssals are nothing like spreadsheets.” Jennifer snapped back, folding her arms behind her head. It was like she was lazing on a small sunbed rather than the tattered remains of some poor sofa.

“An incorrect pivot table can be just as deadly as any Abyssal.” 

Her eyes rolled and she let out a long exaggerated yawn, closing her eyes to feign sleep. “Whatever you say.”

“I’m not joking. We need to clean this shithole up. Many hands make light work you know.”

“And too many cooks spoil the broth. We’ll just get in each other's way.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand like a master shooing away a servant. "I'm sure you can handle it by yourself."

Francois bit down, letting his teeth grind together to dispel the welling frustration. Moving her was out of the question. If the stick would not work, there had to be a carrot of some kind. But what, he could not figure out. His eyes fell onto the bathroom door and thought of using her suit as a potential bioweapon, but thinking of that festering smell intensifying as it stewed on the floor triggered a primordial sense of dread. She hadn't even been perturbed by it in the slightest. Threatening not to cook might be another possible avenue. Yet, Jennifer ate through decaying slices of pizza with tufts of grey mould on them in her half-awake stupor whenever she came back home late from her battles against the Abyssals. An iron stomach that digested rank leftovers that housed enough bacteria and rot on them that it could poison any normal humans digestive system and send them to the hospital would not be so easily swayed, even if they were thrown at her. All options seemed to be closed.

That was until a gurgle came from Jennifer’s stomach, rattling the apartment with its strength. Francois grinned in mischievous delight. An opportunity presented itself. 

Patting her belly, Jennifer woke from her fake sleep and turned to Francois. She returned his coy smile with one of her own. “Can we order some food in?” Her voice was low and suggestive like the purring of a cat.  

“Of course, I can,” Approaching the amazon with his head held high, he stood before the couch and its lazing giant and placed one hand on his hip, “Will I is another question entirely.”

Jennifer left the couch and stood tall, leveraging her height as a means to intimidate him. He only came close to her hip, close enough to her towel, which draped down her waist like an ill-fitting loincloth. Golden eyes settled onto him, her intense gaze drilling down in an attempt to make him waver. There was a devious half grin on her face.

“You know, I do have ways of coercing you.” Her voice was low and sultry. She licked her lips and exaggerated her moans of pleasure. She shot up an inch in height. Jennifer curled a smile, trying in vain to stifle a laugh. 

“Go ahead Titaness. Take your best shot.” He said with a muted expression. Taking a step back and folding his arms, he played the straight man to her games. Worry began to creep up, though he did not want to show it. She could very easily lose control again if she joked about with her ability to grow.

She beamed a full grin, still fighting off a giggle as she squatted down. Pressing herself closer until her bare chest was right in his face. The rumbling emanating from her grew louder and louder as if she were prepared to burst upwards in height. Francois shook in the spot from the intensity. He steeled himself as best he could, but his worry turned into full-blown fear. Plates and cups shimmied, beer cans rattled off the edge and spilled onto the floor. The coffee table bounced and moved as if caught in the grips of an earthquake. This was stronger than the one before. Though she did not grow, whatever she was building towards was beyond his comprehension. If it continued, she could very well bring down not just the apartment, but the entire complex. Whatever height she was trying to reach, it was going to come as one explosive burst. Just as Francois took a step back, preparing for the calamity. Then, the rumbling halted.

Luscious glossy lips engulfed his face in a red tide for a brief moment. After the gentle peck, she gave him a wink and then flopped on the couch with a furious thud that threw the apartment into an uproar. Disorientated, his head spun and vision blurred, as the warmth of the kiss dissipated, like the last flickering embers fading away from a once all-consuming fire. Jennifer now sat back in the tattered remnants of the couch, though he was unsure if she had grown or not. The towel all but covered her privates, her backside now encompassing all of the cushions and her head close to bursting through the ceiling. Fluffing her hair out, her hair caught the weak light from the dying bulb above, giving her majestic mane a transfixing shift as though it ebbed from a deep scarlet to a bright rosey red. As reality focused in and his sense settled, he could stare in amazement at her. Once she had settled on her throne, Jennifer then reached out, lifted him and pulled him close. A barrage of kisses, each one more passionate than the last. Jennifer wrapped her arms around him in a tight but tender cuddle. She kept on biting his lip in all the excitement. Her tongue swirled around his. They were caught like two dancers desperately trying to keep pace with one another, coiling and then uncoiling in an endless battle. Jennifer kept pushing and pushing, driving her lips deeper into Francois, her subtle moans of unadulterated delight rattling his body with their strength. When the onslaught finally abated, the last kiss that felt drawn out across eternity left him hungry for more. Jennifer's soft smile was a promise for more and Francios could only lust for her embrace as if he were no more than an addict deprived of their next rush.

He rubbed his blushed face in amazement and laughed to himself. “I guess you win this time.”

Jennifer stroked his hair. She stretched out and sighed. Her voice had deepened slightly once more, an element of bass returning thanks to her size. “As I said, I always win.”

He turned his attention to the apartment then focused back on Jennifer. “How about this, we get a takeaway tonight, we clean up as much as we can tomorrow morning and then go out for the afternoon? We can go to the cinema or wander around Victory Park in the evening.”

Her eyes darted off, pondering the deal for a moment, weighing the decision with a subtle bobbing of her head. She then nodded in agreement.

“Fine, but the takeaway is on you right?” 

Francois grinned. “Isn’t it always?” 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, half surprised that during all the uproar and commotion it had not been smashed to pieces like so many before it.

“Pizza good with you?”

As soon as he put the phone to ear, Francois realised she had in fact grown taller. All those kisses had covered her growth. The momentary confusion allowed her to become maybe ten or so more feet bigger than beforehand. He wanted to say something, but the tender warmth from her body, the loving smile and the gentle caressing of his hair persuaded him otherwise. To fall for such a ploy was an annoyance, but cuddling next to her was too much of a delight to pass up on. Besides, he thought, she had only caused a minor crack today. Maybe she was getting better at controlling it. Then again, another couch had fallen victim to her growth spurts. Francois exhaled a sigh of contentment. A small price to pay he supposed. Whenever he was close to Jennifer, he never felt safer. He scoffed at the thought. Hard to believe when she kept on teetering closer to the edge of outgrowing the entire building. Perhaps he would have second thoughts when the apartment was crumbling all around him thanks her.

Jennifer ran her hands down Francois's comparatively smaller frame, her digits exploring his body with their soothing touch. She plucked a can of beer that look no bigger than a shot glass between her fingers and proceeded to down the entire drink. When she grabbed another, dropped one down to Francois and got one of her own. Jennifer sunk herself deeper and Francois nestled himself onto her, spraying himself. Beer and girlfriend by his side, now he was ready for a nice and relaxing weekend. All they needed to top off the night was a bite to eat.

“You know it is.”