8
Pan was pleased. She had deftly taken care of her cop problem. She swung back to facing forwards and realized she still had a sad, badly damaged building nestled in her lap. The many ragged holes she had punched into it made it sort-of resemble a towering column of swiss cheese; though it was obviously not the correct color. Red and yellow emergency lighting flickered in the holes and she saw tiny dark shapes she knew to be little people scurrying about. They were still alive somehow and were still struggling to escape. She briefly considered eating these as she had their co-workers and friends, but dismissed the thought. Her ravenous hunger appeared to be satiated for the moment, and she was bored of harvesting the screaming bugs. This building, therefore, was of no further use to her, and ceased to hold her attention. She had compromised much of its rigidity and structural support in her feasting. It creaked and whined at the strain of gravity and occasional gusts of wind blew bits of crumbling debris from it. It looked pathetic and pitiable. The upper most stories had actually begun to yaw and lean towards her slightly, as if to sob in surrender against her shoulder and bosom. This gave her an idea of how to be done with it.
Pan’s wry smirk, now a consistent harbinger of impending peril, stretched across her beautiful face. “Come here, my darlings…” She cooed and folded her arms languorously around the decrepit building in what to her was a gentle embrace, and began to squeeze. Her humongous, lightly freckled, breasts smooshed against and broke into the already wounded face of the crumbling structure as the steely, corded muscles of her arms pulled it towards her. A nearly orchestral array of sounds accompanied her affectionate destruction; metallic screeches as steel beams bent and warped, soft crackles as concrete and plaster broke and smashed, shrill screams of panicked and dying people, and the delicate tinkling of shattering glass.
Stephanie was on the roof, she and several others had assumed the cops would be sending a helicopter rescue. Turns out she, and the rest were quite wrong. They heard the police sirens and gushed out the roof exit and poured over the helipad, sure of rescue. They cheered when the heard the deafening peels of choreographed gunfire and the blue-eyed giantess turned away from them, catching bullets in the face and eye. But the bullets hadn’t worked and the giant woman had violently dispatched the police. And no helicopter came.
A few had ran, scuttling, back into the building then. Stephanie and the others remained, though. So far, the giant bitch hadn’t paid anymind to the roof, while the rest of the building seemed like a sure-to-get-eaten deathtrap. And they might still send helicopters. Maybe. Hopefully? She bit her lip and paced nervously, trying not to think about the giant brunette seated in front of the building. God, what she wouldn’t do to just get home and get a warm bath, with some scented candles and…and some foaming bubb…Suddenly the ground beneath her rocked, cutting her thoughts short. Shit! Shitshitshit!
The building leaned into Pan more and more as she squeezed and a small group of people who had sought refuge and rescue on the roof felt the ground yaw, as a ship in a storm, beneath their feet. The roof dipped suddenly towards the beaming giantess and her grinning face and chin cast them into shadow. None of them had very good “sea legs” and they quickly lost their footing and fell prone as the roof’s angle grew more severe. They slid screamingly towards her heaving breasts and into her cavernous cleavage as she tightened her embrace.
Stephanie screamed shrilly and tried to steady herself. Everyone around her was doing the same, she looked back, and saw the whole roof was slanting. It was dipping towards the smiling giant. She grinned down at them from the heavens, mocking them. Stephanie fell onto her back as the giant’s face and chin soared over them, blocking the sun. She slid down the rough stone of the roof. She wriggled and clawed, trying to slow her descent. Someone kicked her head as they slid past her, screaming and flailing. She ignored the burning pain and looked down. She was falling helplessly towards the giant’s mountainous breasts! The edge of the roof crumbled into her daunting cleavage. Stephanie slid in amid a shower of rubble and tumbling co-workers.
Stephanie pushed herself off at the last moment, empowered by adrenaline. She landed with a smack against Pan’s clavicle. It stung like a bitch, but she tried to hold on, already feeling gravity pull her towards the jiggling breasts and cleavage below. She scrabbled desperately for purchase, but found none. The big slut was too sweaty. It poured out of her enmasse. It made the freckled skin slippery and impossible to get a grip on. Stephanie cried out as she slid. A giant, basket-ball sized sweat droplet took this opportunity to rush her and splash rudely against her screaming face. It soaked and temporarily blinded her, and Stephanie reluctantly swallowed much of it. She scowled and nearly gagged at the salty taste, before realizing she wasn’t sliding anymore.
She timidly opened her eyes and realized she had come to an awkward stop
on the giantess’ boob. Her top half and arms draped over, but her legs hung precariously into the giant woman’s cleavage. Several other people were sprinkled around her, in similar positions. Stephanie heard crunching from all around and Rubble buffeted them from overhead. She had to climb up, before falling debris knocked her from her perch. She clawed at warm, heaving flesh, empowered and determined, but the movement caused her to slide further down. NOOOO! She cried out in vain, the giant breasts, pressing against the building smushed and spread. She felt the soft, squishy walls closing around her. Her scream was muffled as they jiggled and crashed together, smothering and crushing Stephanie and a few others. Her hand shot out of the cleavage dramatically, before slipping back in. The giant tits ground against each other and Stephanie’s hand, as well as the rest of her, was never seen again.
Pan decided she shouldn’t leave the bottom floors out of the fun and brought her thighs slapping against the building’s walls, and pressed her long, powerful legs inward and together. Her thighs and calves quivered as her muscles tightened. Her crotch rubbed subconsciously against the creaking lobby doors. She let out an airy moan and squeezed harder, her legs and arms constricted the tiny, fragile building. Dozens of tinies were crushed to death as entire floors and walls collapsed noisily upon them. Her thighs twitched more as her legs folded inward quickly cutting into the building and severing the lower floors from the rest. The lobby doors buckled and the wall holding them exploded inward as her crotch rubbed even more forcefully against them. Screaming people on the lobby floor were showered first with fierce, slashing glass and debris and then with the musky smell of Pan’s arousal. Warm, scented juices darkened her shorts as her pelvis pressed into the lobby.
Pan was caught by surprise by the pleasant consequences of her mostly accidental grinding and moaned loudly at feeling her pussy crash against and into the building. It moistened and an electric tingle shot through her body as something grazed her clitoris through the thin barriers her hot pants and panties provided. She reflexively jerked her limbs together even tighter. Her glistening arms and legs sliced through the building. She twisted as she squeezed and the poor structure yielded and collapsed against her soft, young body. It cracked and practically vaporized in her steely, full-body grip. Powdery showers of debris and people trickled over her body; over her firm breasts, soft but toned belly, and spilling over her long, slender legs and her recently dampened crotch. (In other words, she’s still hot, in case you’ve forgotten ;) )
Pan sat, laughing haughtily in the ruin-piled lot that used to hold a tall, proud tower, filled to the brim with industrious little workers. She felt fleetingly like a child again, sitting amongst the ruins of another child’s sandcastle (her usual victim was her bestfriend, who artfully crafted and treasured her creations) in her elementary school’s sandbox. The memories brought her a selfish, wicked joy.
All that remained of the once-proud building were small, pebble piles of smoldering rubble, and a fine gray-dust that coated her body; having adhered to the sweat that still dripped from her pores, and blew around as whirling clouds.
She saw, in the building’s vacancy, that there was a sprawling park area behind it and between a cluster of other corporate buildings that she hadn’t noticed before. It was surely meant as a place for the miniscule workers to relax on their short breaks between grueling shifts. Pristine brick walkways lined with ornate benches, lush green carefully-trimmed topiary bushes and small, flower-filled gardens encircled a large marble, multi-tiered fountain. Her thirst made itself known again as she watched the it gush beneath her.
She licked her lips and positioned herself for a cool drink from its crytal-clear waters. She raised herself on her knees, tearing through rubble and buried survivors; then began to lean forward. She lowered her giant hands in front of her for support and they crashed down on some of the benches and bushes, splintering and flattening them nonchalantly. She slid forward, her hands broke and split the brick-work and dug deep furrows in the rich soil buried beneath it. She raise her juicy ass, which filled her tiny shorts to capacity, into the air and lowered her gorgeous face to the exquisitely carved marble fountain. She cutely stuck her tongue into the cool pool of water at the base of the fountain and lapped like a thirsty cat. The water was crisp, cold and refreshing. But this method was not alleviating her renewed thirst quickly enough, so she pursed her lips and brought them over the gushing geyser at the top.
Her high cheekbones crashed into two cherubs that had been spurting secondary streams from brass trumpets and they broke from their roosts and fell with wet plunks into the rippling, coin-floored pool beneath. Pan payed this no mind and sucked greedily at the central fountain. She slurped galloon upon galloon of cold, refreshing water into her mouth and down her throat.
Pan was again reminded of her school days, when she would gluttonously hog the lone drinking fountain after hot recesses while the other children whined and pleaded behind her. “Save some for the fishes!” they had often cried in anger at her, but she would always continue monopolizing the fountain well-after her thirst had left her. Their cries actually amused and further emboldened her; she often fancifully imagined that she was actually drying up the vast oceans of the world with her stubborn greed. She would smirk at the images of sea creatures marooned by her piggish excess on the bone-dry oceanfloor. She vividly envisioned whole schools of fish, octopi, jelly-fish, squids, and even sharks and whales beached and flopping about hopelessly as they died because of her. Never sea-horses or dolphins though. She thought those were cute.
Pan guzzled more and more water, and the fountain, which didn’t have a constant source, but only recycled its stores, lost pressure and volume. The main geyser fell to a slow, pathetic trickle. She was not done yet though, and still lapped at the waning trickle, until it too was gone and the marble fountain was completely dry. She licked lingering droplets from her glistening lips and smiled, her thirst quenched once more.
She was far from done with the park though. It was much too beautiful and pristine for its own good. Pan felt it was too nice for mere humans to keep, and the careful precise crafting that must have gone into creating it would make it so much more satisfying to destroy. Pan bit the tiered central column off of the fountain and chewed. She happily crushed the polished marble to dust between her inhumanly strong molars. It tasted dry and chalky so she spit it out, spewing marble dust everywhere. She brought her fingers poised behind the two remaining chubby angels, whose bronze trumpets were dry, and flicked. They shot off airborne in parallel arcs. Their molded wings did nothing to aid their flight and they crashed through mirrored windows one of the adjacent office building. She slapped her hands down violently as she pushed herself up, cracking more bricks and flattening more benches, bushes and flowerbeds.
She stood to her full height, towering and indomitable. Her shadow stretched across the small park. Smiling she brought her leg up and aimed her colossal, feminine foot over one of the raised gardens. The flowers it contained were all varied and vibrant in color. They had been hand selected and lovingly planted by a professional gardener with a seasoned hand, arranged optimally to brighten mood and amaze senses. Butterflies and bees flitted whimsically between bright, cheerful blossoms. They were blissfully unaware of the doom about to descend upon them. A single, ornate birdbath jutted from the middle of the garden, beckoning birds to wash themselves in the cool water puddled within. It sat unoccupied though. The birds, it seemed, were more keen then the bees and butterflies.
The garden’s tasteful palette of colors dulled severely, and appropriately under her foot’s foreboding shadow. Many of the flowers’ heads drooped towards the ground, presumably extra-sensitive to the loss of sunlight, or were they simply depressed? The world may never know, but some of the bees thought they heard quiet, despondent sighs as Pan’s wrinkled sole, dirtied from her travels plummeted out of the sky towards them. The ball of her foot thundered into the ground, crushing flowers, which may or may not have been screaming into the ground. Her foot was wider than the bed, and crumbled its stonewalls as well, further compacting the soil and dying plants. Her cute, knubby toes landed next. Her bigtoe further deteriorated the wall of the garden and shattered a bench and her second toe overtook and smashed the carefully sculpted birdbath.
All five of her dainty toes pressed against more colorful plants, grinding them to pulp and ripping their roots. Her toes splayed and tore deep trenches in the soil as she placed more of her weight down. The feel of rich dirt and pulverized flowers between her toes delighted her. Her rough heel landed finally. It utterly pounded the ground, bugs and plants beneath it. More of the wall collapsed under her and her foot sank lower into the soft ground before finally accepting the tremendous force of her step. Her calf twitched, and her thigh shimmied slightly as a fraction of the force was sent back up her lanky leg. She smiled, and, with her hands on her hips, slowly swiveled her foot, as if grinding out a cigarette. She pulled her pretty foot back. The garden was an ugly, flat patch of stirred up mud and broken concrete now. This pleased her and she went on the stomp the rest of the beautiful park into ugliness under her pedicured feet. When she was done, she left the wrecked park and demolished building. She walked once more down the cracked road, towards what appeared to be the industrial district…