Wind hits your face and knocks you down to the ground, flat on your back, as the upper torso of your gigantic sister rushes down from her perch high in the air.  You dry swallow a few times, trying to collect yourself before your mind collapses in terror.

                Carly crouches right over you, her size now plainer than ever before, her billboard-sized face bearing down on you, her ropes of dirty blond hair hanging down like a canopy over you.  Her smile quickly dissipates into a look of confusion and curiosity.  A hand reaches up toward her face and, using fingers each longer than your body, swoops her hair out of her face to get a better look at you.

                Your eyes follow along her neck and down to her absolutely tremendous torso and legs.  Even from here, through her tight jeans, you can see her rounded calves and quads flexing as she squats on the ground over you, massive forms of pure power and muscle under her skin.  She looks strong enough to lift a small building over her head.

                “Carly!” you yell out not quite as loud, now that you’ve got her attention.  You remain frozen in a laying down position.  You begin to pant loudly, scared and relieved at the same time.

                It occurs to you that in any other circumstance of life, being naked in front of your sister would result in humiliation and teasing for the rest of your natural life, but this happens to be the one possible instance where this thought is not first on the docket of your brain.

                Carly’s face remains unchanged, just staring at you.  Perhaps she’s in shock too.  You wouldn’t blame her.  It’s incredible what you can see from here.  Even though Carly’s very young, at this size you can make out thin ghosts of laugh wrinkles formed around her eyes, the greasy sheen of pink lip gloss coating her lips.  Through her partially opened mouth you can make out her ivory teeth, looking large and thick enough to chew apart a metal safe door.  Every fiber of her skin on her cheeks and everywhere on her face is visible, moving ever so slightly as she inhales slowly.

                “Carly?” you say uncertainly, still scared.  You blink a few times, then try to sit up, but realize you’re surrounded in a puddle of rain, so you slip back down into the flat position on the ground.  You gulp a few times.  “Carly?  It’s me.  It’s Jack,” you say, unsure of what else to say.

                Carly’s lips move, reflecting light off her lip gloss.  “Jack?” she says, and her mouth twists into a smile.  It’s not an evil smile of victory and malice like normal, so that’s something.  Somehow, you’re a little bit comforted.

                “Yeah…” you say, letting the word trail off.  You find yourself unable to move again.

                “What…” she starts to say, arching her eyebrows.  However, she doesn’t finish her sentence.  Out of the corner of your eyes, you see her massive left hand rushing toward you.  You flail your limbs for a moment, but it’s of no use.  An instant later a wall of flesh is bearing down on you, her muscular fingers, almost as thick as your body, curling downward like snakes.  Her palm, soft and cool, presses down onto your torso, burying your dick in the thickness of her hand flesh at your size.  Her fingers slide with surprising gentleness around your arms and legs, curling back around and tightening.  You feel a sense of security surrounding you as the wet, rainy ground underneath you is replaced with the cool, plush fingers of your massive sister, pressing into your back and legs with unexpected care.

                The ground falls away slowly as you are lifted into the air, the comforting, smooth feeling of hand flesh pressed firmly but gently onto every square inch of your naked form.  In spite of yourself, you almost want to fall asleep, so drastic was the change from freezing rain and mud to the comforting apparent safety of your sister’s hand.  Maybe there is a good person inside of Carly, after all…

                Your head swims as you rise higher and higher up into the stratosphere of the kitchen.  Your eyes water at the sudden change in altitude.  Clearing them, you find yourself at eye level with your sister, her hand still wrapped snugly around your body.  Your breathing begins to slow, and your heart rate drops as you are almost instantly calmed by the comforting and evidently capable grip of your little sister.

                The staring match continues a little longer, your body temperature already regulating again as her fist begins to warm up, like a circular sweat box of soft flesh providing your frozen little form with heat from the massive generator of her gargantuan, skyscraper-like body.

                “C-C-Carly…” you say out loud, unsure of where to start.  The explanation for what’s going on?  The plea for her to get you medical attention?  The suggestion that she ensure she hangs on to you tightly to avoid a death plunge?  Your mind almost goes blank.

                Carly’s eyes get wider, her pupils dilating ever so slightly.  Her nose wrinkles up by the bridge as her smile widens, the few freckles surrounding her eyes and nose bobbing up and down as she does so.  “Jack… you’re… you’re… like, three inches tall!”

                “I… I know…”

                “What HAPPENED to you?”

                “I don’t know!  Please, Carly… please.  I need you to do something, call mom and dad, call the hospital.  Something.  I… don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you say finally.

                “Yeah, yeah, okay…” she says, sounding serious.  Wind whips your face and you bob up and down a little in her hand as she takes a step, but then stops in her tracks.  She turns her hand around again to look at you.

                “Now, wait a minute, Jack…” she says, as if all of this was completely natural.

                “What, Carly?  C’mon!  You have to get me some medical attention, something is seriously WRONG with me!”

                “Jack, slow down…”

                “CARLY!  I need your help!  Just keep going!  I don’t know what’s going on right now, but we have to do something about it soon!”

                “Jack…”

                “CARLY!  C’MON!” you yell out in desperation, growing fearful again despite the fact that you have physical safety in Carly’s now warm fist.  There’s no telling what is really going on inside you, and the painful idea in the back of your mind that there’s no reversing what’s happened to you is starting to creep to the forefront.

                Carly tilts her head a little, pursing her lips in disdain, cocking her eyebrows as if shocked at you.

                “Jack… stop talking to me like that.”

                “Are you SERIOUS, Carly?  Look at me!  I’m TINY!  I don’t know what’s wrong and we have to find out, right NOW!”

                “You’re yelling at me, Jack…”

                “Wha-what are you talking about?  I need help!  C’mon!”

                “You’re still doing it.”

                “No I’m not!  Shut up and CALL THE GOD DAMNED HOSPITAL!”

                You can visibly see Carly taken aback, as if you had struck a physical blow to her face.

                “Jack… you cussed again…”

                “I WILL DO WHATEVER I DAMN WELL PLEASE UNTIL YOU HELP ME!  YOU’VE GOT TO HELP ME, CARLY!”

                “Not until you apologize…”

                Now it’s your turn to be taken aback.  You stare at her face, looking expectant at you for a moment.  You can’t believe what’s coming out of her mouth.

                “CARLY, ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” you scream at the top of your lungs.

                “Jack, stop yelling at me!”

                “HELP ME!”

                “Stop.”

                “HELP!”

                “STOP YELLING AT ME!” she finally screams, and you can literally feel your eardrums pop as the sound waves ripple through your head.  You feel yourself begin to shiver in her hand, and despite the heat her hand is providing, you feel cold again.

                “Okay…” you say sheepishly, regaining your composure.  As usual, you just have to bite the bullet and do it, now more than ever.  “Okay, okay.  Look, I’m sorry, Carly, that I yelled at you.  I’m just scared, okay?  You can understand that, right?” you say, trying to sound reassuring again.

                But she doesn’t smile at you.  Her eyes squint again.

                “I can’t believe you, Jack.”

                “What?”

                “Even when you’re in trouble like this, and you need me, you can’t be nice to me.”

                “Look, I’m TRYING, Carly, okay?  I’m trying!  Look, I’ll even just wait a minute for you.  Now, please.  Please.  Go call for help,” you say, releasing the words slowly and calmly.

                She says nothing.  Her face turns pensive, and she bites the corner of her lips, as if in thought.  With a start, you feel her powerful fingers shifting around your back, her plush flesh smushing ever so slightly as if brushes across your naked backside. 

This shift again reminds you of how vulnerable and embarrassing this has made you, being forced to be essentially felt up by your younger sister on every square inch of your entirely visible naked body just for the sake of having your life saved.  No matter how this ends up, it’s never quite going to be the same again when you’re in her presence…

“No,” comes Carly’s voice at last.

Something inside your mind snaps.  You want to lash out at her.  You want to beat on her smirking face and wipe the smile right off of it.  You’re in a potentially life threatening position and she’s being her normal bitchy self, in the one true moment where you need her to do something good for you.  The gall of your sister is almost beyond your comprehension, and you can’t even sum up the words.

“B-b…” you manage to squeak out, practically spitting the words out.

“Don’t talk ask me again, Jack, until you’ve said it to me.”

“WHAT?” you spit out.

“Until you apologize to me.”

Rage boils up inside of you, bursting from your head and every limb.  And this time, it’s perfectly clear to you how to say it.

“You BITCH!  YOU STUPID BITCH!  WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?  YOU GET OVER TO THAT DAMNED PHONE RIGHT NOW AND HELP ME, GOD DAMN IT!” you scream, your face turning red.  You look up at her massive face, fire in your eyes.

Her eyes narrow into slits, and her mouth furrows into a deep frown.

“That’s it.  You can’t talk to me like that, Jack…” she hisses loudly.  “Did you hear me?  You can’t TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!” she yells again, shredding your eardrums again.

Around your helpless form, you feel the warm, creamy walls of flesh shifting.  Inward.  You suck in your stomach and convulse your muscles instinctively as your sister’s fingers begin to compress in on you.  The pressure builds.  The cushy pad of flesh surrounding her palm and fingers press inward, giving way to the robust and pulsing muscles of Carly’s fingers.  You can feel your limbs threatening to go numb as your sister squeezes tighter and tighter on your helpless, lithe form, completely powerless to resist.  Your mind begins to race.  Your forehead begins to sweat as the wall of soft flesh and raw muscle cave in on you with such ease.  It occurs to you that an apology might be in order, but you can’t think as crushing pain fills your brain impulses.  Your eyes water and you look pleadingly up at your “little” sister’s glistening eyes and your mouth opens, in an attempt at protest, but no sound comes out.  Finally, when you feel that your entire body has been coated with bruises and your bones will begin to crack under the mammoth plowing strength being used on them, the pressure releases.

Your entire body screams out in pain all at once, and you moan audibly in soreness and pain, her fingers suddenly feeling soft again as your naked form leans into the pad of her palm.  Almost ready to pass out, you look up again at your sister’s face, completely serious.

“You’re NEVER going to talk like that to me again,” she says, and the hairs on your body stand on end as you watch a massive and menacing smile creep over her long lips.  “NEVER again, little boy,” she adds spritely, and releases a loud and terrifying giggle of power.

Your stomach lurches.  If there really is a God, you have a feeling he’s about to turn a blind eye to whatever is in store for you.