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Change for a Twenty-Two Part Two by D.X. Machina

 My alarm went off way, way too early.

 It was Wednesday, and I didn't have class until noon.  I never
got up for my noon class before 11:45.  And yet my alarm was going off,
and it felt very, very early.  I reached for the snooze button, and found
myself hitting the ground with my palm.

 Something was wrong.

 I heard a huge sigh from off to my right.

 That was significant, I thought.

 Slowly, slowly, as if downloading Netscape at 12:04 in the
afternoon,  my mind tried to make sense of its surroundings.  Suddenly, a
memory clicked.  Then another.  Then another.  And inside of a second, I
was standing bolt upright, looking with trepidation at the giantess who lay
next to me.

 Sarah was waking up slowly.  She lay on her back now, her eyes
closed.  I could read in her face the eternal debate: get up and face the
day, or hit snooze and get that extra five minutes of sleep?  She opted
for the latter, bringing her right arm down with a tremendous force on
the distant clock radio.  This cycle repeated itself twice more.

 No doubt about it, she was my kind of girl.  I've been known to
spend the better part of the day hitting the snooze alarm.

 I believe it was in Sarah's mind to sleep the whole day; it was
not to be, however.  A quick sequence of three sonic booms sounded,
followed by a heavily distorted voice, calling, "SARAH, GET UP!  YOU'LL
BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!"

 The giantess groaned, and then shouted (and boy, could she
shout!), "OKAY MOM MMMFFF."  The "mmmfff" was the sound she made when
completing her sentence.  With the energy of a sloth, she slowly got up.

 I, meanwhile, had hunkered down just inside her pillowcase.  I
didn't have a good view, but at least I was temporarily safe from being
discovered.  Presently, the lights snapped on, temporarily blinding me,
and from the sound of it, Sarah.  I heard and felt her get out of bed,
and cautiously peeked around the edge of the case.

 She was at her dresser, pulling out some clothes.  She grabbed
them, and walked out the door, leaving the room empty.

 I was glad of this opportunity, as I was, at that moment, aware
that I needed to take care of some personal business.

 I hadn't really thought about this eventuality; indeed, I had to
admit, I hadn't really thought much through about this whole situation.
I was embarrassed by my need, and thought briefly about trying to make it
to the restroom of the Kensington family, only to realize that, at my
size, it was probably at least a ten minute trek.  And even if I made it,
how would I reach the toilet?  And what if someone came in?  No, I'd have
to relieve myself here.

 I decided to go in the corner behind Sarah's bed, where
hopefully, I wouldn't be noticed.  I slid down covers buried next to the
wall, and found myself traveling very, very fast.  I needn't have
worried, however; I hit the ground hard, but bounced up fine.  I think my
lack of mass helped me.

 After attending to my needs, I set out towards open territory.
That was easier said than done, as the area beneath the bed was crammed
full of stuff, from shoes, to clothes, to books, to paper.  I found
Sarah's delicious scent permeated the area, and I hoped I would find my
way out in time to see her.

 I wasn't disappointed.  Just as I reached her bed ruffle, Sarah
returned.  And once more, it was my chance to be stunned.

 I had not yet seen her from floor level.  She stood hundreds of
feet tall, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt.  Gods, she was beautiful.

 And I was hungry.  It had been over fourteen hours since I had
last eaten, and I was beginning to think a bowl of cereal sounded good.
However, I knew the kitchen was probably a good hour's walk, and even
were I to get there, the counter would tower over my head.  I was going
to need some help.

 Help arrived in the form of Sarah's backpack.  The hangar-sized
back sat on the floor, where I could easily reach it.  With luck, Sarah
would put it on before she grabbed breakfast.  Then, I could leap to the
kitchen counter, and make myself a meal.  It seemed like a good enough plan.

 Of course, my plans had been failing with awesome regularity.
Sarah did pick up her bag, just as I reached the first zipper.  But
rather than head for the kitchen, she headed out the front door, at warp
speed.  It looked like I was going to school.

* * *

 It was a warm day.  Had it been cool, I would have stayed in the
car.  After all, while it was boring, and offered no hope of food, it was
safe.  However, it was warm out, and for the same reason you don't leave
your dog in the car in the summer, I didn't want to stay in the car
myself.  So I rode with Sarah, into the school, hoping that I would be
safe, realizing that I would be facing thousands of skyscraper-size
teenagers.

 As Sarah walked towards the school, I saw other students walking
as well.  It was the first time I had really seen any other giants, and
it was amazing.  Sarah had been imposing and amazing, but to see hundreds
of people, all Sarah's size...it was overwhelming.  I realized quickly
that I had better stay close to Sarah, lest I get trampled.

 Sarah went straight to her first class, without even stopping at
her locker.  She pulled some books out of the backpack, but luckily,
didn't spot me, as I hid under a flap of fabric.  The bag quickly went
under her desk.
 
 Hunger drove me on.  I watched giant after giant pile into the
room; one of them was bound to have something edible on them.  I waited
until people started to settle, and carefully crept away from Sarah's desk.
 
 My first stop was the desk behind Sarah.  I saw an enormous pair
of Nikes, bobby socks encasing perfect legs, which flowed into the
pleated skirt of a cheerleader.  She shifted, and I sighed.  She was
pretty, almost as pretty as Sarah, and I'd always had a thing for
cheerleaders...but I wasn't looking for that right now.

 I found what I was looking for moments later.  Sitting atop the
stack of books under her chair was a half-eaten Nutri-Grain bar.  Not my
favorite, but good enough for the moment.  I dug into the strawberry
filling and ate hungrily, knowing well that I might not eat for a while.
I was thinking that when, suddenly, a huge hand reached for the bar.  It
felt around blindly, knocking me down inadvertently.  I felt as if I had
been gang-tackled by sumo wrestlers, and wanted nothing more than to stay
down, and rest, and let the ringing in my ears subside....

 The ringing abruptly started again.  I sat up, and regretted
it--that is to say, my head regretted it.  I had been knocked out.  But
why was I moving?

 I realized why presently.  The pile of books I was sitting on had
been picked up by its owner, and I had no time to react, as she pressed
them to her ample bosom, while she tried to get organized.
 
 I was pinned between a History textbook and two enormous breasts,
bigger than Sarah's, certainly.  Aside from not being able to breathe, it
was a pleasant feeling.  But I knew right away I had made a critical error.

 I had lost track of Sarah.

* * *

 I clung to the front of a cheerleader's sweater, which was an
interesting way to view the world.  With every step, I was bounced to and
fro--and it was beginning to lose its novelty.  At least the girl had put
the books away in her locker, and I was no longer pinned.  Now, I waited
to see where we were bound for next.

 We entered a room that didn't look like a classroom.  Indeed, it
took me a few moments to figure out exactly what it was.  Titanic
structures stood in rows, with benches situated between them.

 A locker room.  Interesting.

 As I was pondering the significance of this latest development, I
suddenly found myself moving rapidly upward, as the cheerleader pulled
her sweater off, then rapidly downwards, as she carelessly dropped it on
the bench.

 I decided immediately that I did not want to get locked in a
girl's gym locker, even for an hour, so I did the logical thing--I ran.
Of course, I realized momentarily that running was only so useful.  Sure,
I got out from inside the sweater, but I was a good hundred and fifty
feet above the floor, and somehow, I didn't think jumping that would be a
good idea.  I sighed.  As usual, I was going to require assistance.  And
asking for it was right out.

 I turned to face the cheerleader.  She was pulling on a pair of
shorts.  I was considering whether to head back towards her and take my
chances, when suddenly, the world went dark.

 I groaned.  This was turning out to be an annoying day.

 It took me but a moment to realize I had been covered by some
sort of fabric, probably clothing of some sort or another.  I struggled
to free myself, but found myself more thoroughly lost than before.
Finally, I found my way to the edge of the clothing, and was just about
to step out, when I found myself being lifted up.  I got a brief glimpse
of the face of a young, red-hared girl, before I found myself lounging
between two breasts in the twilight of a sportbra.

 Now, don't get me wrong.  I am as awed by the sight of two
monstrous mammaries as the next guy, and I was awed at that moment, but I
couldn't help but think of one thing.

 Gym class was coming up.

* * *

 Perhaps the less said of the next hour the better.  Needless to
say, I will never look upon breasts the same, after spending an hour
between them during a heavy-duty athletic contest, which I think was
probably volleyball.

 When my accidental captor finally removed her bra, I was
jubilant.  When she set it on the bench, I felt like jumping for joy.  I
quickly exited stage left, and as I did, realized I had run into a very
large pair of jeans.  I was about to turn, when suddenly, the jeans were
picked up, wadded, and unceremoniously dumped in a gym locker.  I found
my way out, just in time to have a t-shirt, panties, socks, and a pair of
shoes dropped in as well.  Then, before I could escape, I watched in
horror as the door to the locker closed.  I could see, through the
lattice opening, a pretty girl, probably Korean, wearing a one-piece
black bathing suit.  I watched as she walked away from the locker.  And I
realized that I was stuck in the locker room for another hour.  Argh.

 I spent the next hour doing the only thing I really was able
do, namely, go through the girl's personal effects.  It was enough
exploring for hours, if I had had hours to spend.  I didn't really pay
attention to how much time I had, which, I suppose, is why I found myself
exploring the girl's panties when she returned.

 She must have been in an awfully big hurry to get to her next
class.  I say that because she never noticed me as she pulled her
unmentionables on, or as she pulled her jeans on over those, or as she
tucked her shirt in.  I noticed her, however.

 It was dark, humid.  The smell of chlorine lingered, but it was
secondary to the warm scent of this girl.  Strange, it was different from
Sarah's.  Not worse or better, just different.  I felt her hair rub
against me.

 I don't know what the girl was feeling, but I know she felt
something.  I felt her muscles move, subtly.  I felt her contract, and
release, slightly.  As she sat down, I was pushed hard against her.  I
struggled to breathe....

 Suddenly, a tidal wave gushed out of her, pushing me away.  It
was probably only a mini-orgasm, but it felt...incredible.  I sat there
for a while, unmoving, basking in the moment.  I touched her gently,
wondering if I should try for more, but decided against it.  I had to avoid
being found.  There was no way to know how this girl would react should she
find me in her panties, but I feared her reaction would not be pleasant.

 As it turned out, I didn't have long to wait.  The girl stood up,
and was on the move, probably to a rest room.  I knew I would have to
time things well, so I moved myself to the elastic border, and held on
tightly.

 The jeans came off, and then the panties.  I swung over the edge
of the elastic, and, when the panties reached knee-level, dropped the
rest of the way into the soft cushion of the jeans.  Quickly, I clambered
down the inside of one pant leg, down her right shoe, and away to
freedom.

 It was about a half-hour walk to the door of the girls'
restroom.  Before I even made it out of the stall, the girl was washing
up and leaving.  Then, I was alone for quite some time, moving steadily
along the institutional tile, heading for a five hundred foot tall door.

 I was tired, demoralized, and downhearted.  I had lost track of
Sarah, and with her, the only sure way of getting back to campus.  I had
been in intimate company with four women in the last twelve hours, none
of whom had even noticed me.  And now, here I was, one inch tall, trying
to leave the girls' bathroom for--where?  Where was I to go?

 It wasn't even lunch time yet.

 But in the darkest hour, there is usually a light.  As I trudged
despondently towards the door, a girl entered, wearing sandals, shorts,
and a white t-shirt.  She was checking herself in the mirror, and fixing
her make-up.  My path to the door took me right by her, and I tried to
hide as best I could.

 The girl was fumbling with her lipstick.  Then, suddenly, the
stick slipped from her fingers and fell towards me.  I had barely a
moment to throw myself out of the way, lest I be crushed.  I got up and
dusted myself off.  I wasn't hurt.  Then, I looked up.

 The girl was staring at me, mouth agape, eyes wide.  It was
Sarah.  She had found me.

 Well, at least I'd solved one problem.
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