WITTY LITTLE TAILOR
by migdenbond
Special thanks to SirPixis
One sunny morning long long ago, a young peasant tailor named Pete was sitting in his messy little workshop, whistling a happy tune as he sewed with all his might. The world outside his door, thanks to the King and the noble caste of his protectors, seemed pretty simple and straightforward as it had been for centuries. Chivalrous knights in shiny armor, though somewhat decreased in numbers, still roamed across the country, defending the weak, rescuing damsels in distress, fighting all sorts of mythical beasts and enemies of the Crown; Pete enjoyed listening to stories about their brave deeds – unlike most boys of his age, however, he had no ambition to become a knight himself, always cheerful and reasonably content with his peaceful life as a peasant. He was just an ordinary craftsman and his problems were usually rather mundane; all he wanted to do was fix a garment he was working on, but a swarm of flies that came through a wide-open window kept distracting him, buzzing around his head like crazy. Despite his very small stature and pale skin tone indicating poor health, he still had the obvious advantage of size and strength over the his foes; when a horde of them settled on a piece of delicious pound cake he was going to eat for dessert, the boy finally lost his temper, reached for some rag and hit at them without mercy, killing no fewer than seven.
“Oh my!” the little tailor exclaimed, genuinely proud of himself. “Seven with just one single blow, that’s quite an achievement... The whole village shall hear about it!”
As he stood in the middle of the room, admiring his own bravery, a distant tremor of great magnitude rattled the floor beneath him, a tremor like he had never experienced before. After staying still for a few seconds, he felt another one, slightly more devastating than the first, then another, and another, a series of mighty blows against the ground repeating in regular intervals and gradually increasing in strength; the entire house started shaking violently in time with booming footfalls heralding the approach of something really big and powerful. Something a lot scarier and meaner than the common pest Pete had successfully confronted. A major threat. A monster at large. Sneering laughs resounded in echoes through the countryside as a colossal humanoid silhouette slowly emerged above the rocky hills against a clear azure sky and stepped over them with ease, following the slim blue band of the river. The village and its surroundings were soon engulfed in pitch black shadow, as if an incredibly thick storm cloud had suddenly hidden the sun; the people froze at the very glimpse at the source of the spreading darkness, then screamed and scattered away in sheer panic, leaving their homes to seek refuge in the forest primeval. Unexpectedly to anyone, a fierce barbarian giantess from the North entered the valley to wreak havoc and plunder, a terrifying beast in the form of a scantily clad voluptuous young woman with fiery red eyes and short fair hair providing some contrast to her dark complexion. Huge breasts encased in a tight leather lace-up top dominated her muscular yet smooth and shapely figure; a massive spiked club capable of taking out dozens of lesser creatures in a single swipe rested on her shoulder, ready for destructive action.
Alarmed by the ruckus, the little tailor jumped and ran outside, stopping by a withered tree to take a surprised glance at what looked like immense curvy legs, two gigantic tan pillars towering above his head and seemingly reaching the sky; bracing his back against the trunk, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them, puerile and unhealthy fascination mixing with the basic primordial fear of death. The giantess lifted her foot; an enormous sandaled sole rose high into the air, positioned over his humble cottage. Pete wanted to scream in protest, but words got stuck in his throat – it was already too late to avoid the impending disaster. Timber ceilings and walls of solid oak moaned and creaked loudly, then shattered into a spray of splinters as the giant foot pressed down on them with an awful force, crushing the house like an egg-shell, destroying his workshop and all his possessions, except for some special thread, a needle and a pair of ridiculously oversized scissors the boy always carried with him. The tailor fell to his knees, overwhelmed with pure shock and confusion; everything his beloved late father had worked so hard to gain for him was lost, turned into a filthy pile of rubble and wreckage by the most ferocious invader the Kingdom had ever seen.
“Hey, you big bully!” he shouted to the looming creature attached to the foot, his voice seething with anger, his hands in clenched fists, tears forming in his eyes. “It was my home! No matter how tall and strong you are, I’ll make you pay for this!”
The woman-mountain raised her ginormous foot to take another idle step forward, producing absolutely no response to his furious exclamation. A string of threats and curses that followed his initial outburst also failed to reach her ears; faint sounds coming from down the ground couldn’t have carried far enough to grab her attention. The boy didn’t care; a single thought filled his mind to overflowing, pushing away all else, an idea stronger than his sense of survival. Obsessed with taking revenge against the rampaging monstrosity and completely unaware of the mortal danger he was heading into, the tailor went after her, ranting and railing like a madman, as persistent as one of the flies he had killed just a few minutes earlier. The giantess, however, didn’t even notice him trotting alongside her colossal feet in a desperate attempt to keep up with her and just continued her stroll through the abandoned village, causing small earthquakes with each massive footfall she made, leaving a trail of devastation behind as she kept crushing everything in her way. Not only houses of residence, but sheds, fences, rocks and trees crumbled into dust beneath her mighty soles; gone were the days of magnificent apple orchards and billowy fields of golden wheat.
Lucky for him, the giantess felt weary and almost immediately found herself a nice spot for a rest, a vast hillside farm whose owner eagerly fled from her presence; as soon as she approached it, stretching and yawning, she propped her club against the back wall of the main building and settled her rear on the sun-warmed roof, which sagged noticeably under her considerable weight with a loud creaking noise that made the little tailor cover his ears. Panting harshly from both exertion and anger, the boy dashed across the yard towards the granary and jumped on a wagon full of watermelons, burying himself among the fruit to spy on his enemy without being noticed. No physical match for the gargantuan tower of flesh and muscles occupying the valley, he had to rely on his wits; a cunning strategy was his only hope, but he needed more time to come up with a decent one.
“Damn… those… knights!” he snarled grimly, totally out of breath from his exhausting run. “They visit us at the times of peace, but when we need them, they are nowhere to be seen! Looks like I’ll have to teach this bastard child of Lucifer a lesson myself…”
The giantess let out one more thunderous yawn and bent over to untie her sandals, kicking them off once she was done with the narrow leather thongs fastened tightly around her ankles; delighted smile bloomed on her face as her sweaty bare feet gently pressed against the soft grass floor, bathing in wet, chilly dew that sparkled in the sunlight. She glanced down her body at her wriggling toes before letting her eyes drift back to the village; her gaze swept over the nearest ruin, then focused on the watermelons. A low gurgling rumbled from her stomach, resonating through the air like a distant thunder.
“Mmmm… Food!” she moaned contentedly in a deep, sensual voice that sent a cold shiver down the little tailor’s spine and quickened his heartbeat.
“Food? What food? Oh no... She can’t possibly mean...” he mumbled to himself, but paused and screamed in horror when her giant open hand armed with sharp, black-painted fingernails unexpectedly rose above his hiding spot like a bird of prey, covering him with shadow; long, slender fingers reminding him of spider legs wrapped around the wagon and picked it up, guided by a sudden craving for its delicious contents. Her excessive gluttony caught the boy off-guard and unprepared, leaving him no chance of escape. In the blink of an eye, he found himself trapped high above the ground with the giantess’ enormous, though perfectly proportioned facial features looming ominously in front of him; her heavy eyelids closed shut as the fleshy pink pillows of her lips parted with a smack, revealing an impressive set of clean white teeth which guarded the way to her mammoth gullet. Several strands of thick, bubbly spit dripped from her prominent fangs, sticking to her lower jaw, stretching across the entrance to the newly-formed cave like gooey cobwebs – Pete shuddered in fear at the terrifying sight, all of his confidence and determination replaced by utter panic, dread and disgust. Still completely oblivious to his presence, the giantess tilted the wagon and started emptying it into her cavernous mouth to satisfy her hunger; the watermelons went down like an avalanche, sending him tumbling into the saliva-soaked pit of flesh. Warm, wet darkness closed around his diminutive body as her teeth and lips came together, blocking out all the light for a brief moment that seemed like eternity.
“Heeeeeelp! Somebody... help... meeee!” the tailor squealed excruciatingly, but his voice remained unheard, instantly muffled by the spongy walls of her cheeks. Random images from his very short life flashed before his eyes like shuffling cards when her huge rocky molars began crushing and munching the food into sweet, sticky pulp that coated him from head to toe in a split second; focused on avoiding being caught between her shifting jaws, the boy crawled desperately on the hot, slippery organic mattress of her tongue that kept wriggling and writhing like a giant eyeless snake creature. As his hands groped in the darkness, helplessly searching for a way out, he felt her massive tongue scoop violently beneath him; the monstrous muscle skillfully maneuvered his body into a proper position and pushed it towards the vast recesses of her throat – before she was able to swallow him whole and alive, however, the little unsuspected addition to her lunch summoned up every remaining ounce of strength and grabbed tightly onto her dangling uvula.
The giantess jumped to her feet with her eyes wide open in shock and surprise, coughing and gagging frantically to get rid of the unpleasant irritation in her throat. One of her panicked glances thrown around the abandoned farm fixed on a sleek water tower that stood nearby; visibly relieved, she reached for the drum-shaped tank, tore it away from its supporting pillars and removed the top, then took a few greedy gulps – the village’s daily supply of fresh water flooded her mouth, sweeping through the fleshy cavern like a tidal wave, splashing against her palate, falling in cascades down the immense tunnel that led to her belly along with what remained of the food. Pete’s heart palpitated with joy when he saw her massive lips gaping again, but the frail gleam of hope vanished as quickly as it had appeared, dragging him into the darkest depths of despair.
Squeezing the she-beast’s slick uvula, bracing his feet against her gums and silently praying to every saint he could remember, the boy waited for the roaring chaos of dark water to put an end to his suffering, yet somehow managed to survive and narrowly escaped being washed down her gullet to the hellish world awaiting him inside her gurgling stomach. Emptied to the very last drop, the tank crashed upon the ground; further enraged by the futility of her efforts to swallow the unidentified foreign body hopelessly stuck in her throat, the giantess plunged two fingers into her mouth and seized the tailor by his vest – a sudden flash of intense golden light almost blinded him when she pulled him out into the sun, finally realizing she was not alone at the place of her morning conquest. She looked mildly amused with his bravado; her angry frown slowly dissolved into a mischievous smirk as she held him close to her face, carefully inspecting the puny little creature that dared interrupt her meal. Not in the best of moods to admire her wild beauty, the boy trembled with fear of what cruel and unusual tortures she might have been planning for him; all the color drained from his cheeks as thick drops of sweat ran down his brow, mixing with cold water, his heart hammered like a gong in his chest, his breathing reduced to shallow pants.
“S-surrender, giantess! I got you covered!” he cried in a weirdly high pitched voice, instinctively drawing his scissors and stabbing her in the finger as hard as he could.
Totally unprepared for any kind of resistance from her miniscule captive, the woman-mountain hissed in pain and loosened her grip, letting him fall down towards the gentle curves of her mighty bosom indecently spilling out of her undersized top. Once he landed harmlessly on one of the smooth, tanned hemispheres that rose above the tight lace-up fastening, Pete spotted what looked like an entrance to an abandoned mine shaft, a yawning chasm that could possibly hide him from her view; the giantess gasped as he leapt and dove headfirst into the crevice, quickly burrowing himself between the soft, pillowy walls of her ample breasts. The boy moved deeper and deeper down the yet uncharted tunnel without much effort, thanks to the gargantuan cleavage literally sucking him in. It was hot, sweaty and cramped, filled with peculiar, though not entirely unpleasant smell that soon made him a little bit dizzy; regardless of how safe his new hiding spot might have initially seemed to be, it was getting difficult to breathe in it. The tailor gulped nervously as he realized that if he didn’t work his way out of her top within the next few minutes, the threatening masses of flesh would most definitely suffocate him.
His enormous hostess tried to stop the pathetic hide and seek game, but found herself unable to move as if her own muscles were rebelling against her weakened will. Twin crimson stains of blush flickered along her cheeks as she looked startled and confused at her breasts, a part of her shamelessly savoring the unfamiliar itchy sensation of having her immense curves invaded by a lone daredevil, a tiny explorer whose constant movement was slowly driving her into pure ticklish heaven; a small, delighted giggle escaped her lips when she felt him climbing back up in a hurry, his diminutive arms and legs unwittingly caressing the most sensitive areas of her skin, adding to her excitement. The giantess clenched her eyes shut and pulled her chin up, luxuriously arching her spine – a wave of heat like she hadn’t experienced before washed over her body as her huge, meaty nipples hardened and crinkled under the fabric to form two prominent bulges full of hot, throbbing flesh. Having never been touched by any males of her kind, she easily gave in and succumbed to the unwanted tickle torture; first a violent outburst of hysterical laughter, accompanied by cascades of tears that started to flow down her burning face, marked the discovery of her weak spot and sealed the tailor’s first major victory against the voluptuous menace.
The towering female laughed and squealed like a little girl, drifting off into a different reality; being a fearsome warrior, however, she couldn’t let her unfulfilled desire propel her for too long. Snapping what sense she had left, blinded by helpless fury and frustration, she put her hands on her bosom and ripped her top open with a single sharp pull; her huge swollen breasts tipped with pebble hard nipples bounced and swung apart, set free so suddenly, but the tailor didn’t fall out from between them as she had expected – much to her dismay and confusion, the boy disappeared like a mystery. Overwhelmed with a bad feeling about his current location, the giantess hastily unbuckled her belt and tore off her loincloth along with her underwear, stripping naked; still trembling a bit from the tickle experience, with her brain in a whirl of chaotic thoughts, she combed her fingers through the bushy hair on her mound in search for her diminutive foe, finding absolutely nothing as well. A trickle of moisture ran down her thigh when her nails accidentally stroke the wrinkled hood covering her tender love button – fighting the temptation to touch herself again, she uttered a prolonged moan and reluctantly withdrew her hand.
Taking advantage of her distraction, our hero wasted no time trying to turn the tide of the battle to his favor. As soon as he sneaked out of her cleavage, having regained his former confidence thanks to the little incident that rendered her defenseless, the boy came up with a clever, though extremely risky plan involving him using the tools of his trade. Grabbing strands of hair, he climbed to the top of her head and checked his pouch to see if everything he needed was still available at his disposal; pleased with what he had found, he quickly produced a decent amount of sewing thread, a very special kind which had always been his precious treasure because of its unusual strength and durability, far surpassing those of any other fiber, including the thickest rope – on top of that, it was believed to have no end at all. Offered as a gift by a wealthy merchant from India to Pete’s great-grandfather in return for saving his life from a bandit, the seemingly magical item had remained in the tailor’s family for generations, serving as a lucky charm, but now its day had come.
“Please, don’t let me down!” he whispered to the shiny thread as he prepared a surprise attack, cutting a strand long enough for the intended purpose and anchoring it to the giantess’ hair without her knowing; he then secured the loose end to his suspenders and jumped off the crown of her skull, falling along her spine towards the massive bare buttocks. As he had foreseen, the giantess felt his feet smack against her bottom and took the bait, stepping right into his trap – a deafening roar echoed across the valley when her hands reached behind her back to catch him, but only grasped the air. Calm and collected in spite of the threat he was facing, utterly focused on the most important sewing job he had ever undertaken, the little tailor dodged one strike after another and worked like crazy, forming lots of nooses around her wrists and each sleek finger; fast and diligent when it came to his craft, the boy didn’t stop until he had her hands properly tied together. By the time the giantess realized her mistake, the thread had already been tightened – the more she pulled on her bonds, the more they chafed her skin.
Not the least bit bothered by her muscles flexing and contracting rapidly under the coats of nut-brown tan in a furious struggle against the humiliating bondage, Pete used the strand that suspended him to climb back to the top of her head, adding more nooses on his way up to snare her elbows. Once he plunged into her boyish haircut again, settling himself where he had started, he grabbed a second, much longer thread and slid back-first down her nose with a serious and determined look on his freckled face.
“Don’t you dare to move, or I’ll put out your eyes!” he said, pointing his scissors at a cat-like pupil, a narrow vertical slit of black surrounded by a bright red iris; his words proved more than effective. “Good… now straighten up. Close your feet together.”
The woman-mountain had no choice but to obey his orders and accept her defeat at the hands of a lesser, though equally dangerous creature she had carelessly underestimated. Clad only in leather armguards and shin guards, with her arms firmly tied and secured behind her back, she was at his mercy, which she must have known would be in very short supply; he could hear her massive heart pounding in her chest as she waited for him to strike his final blow. The boy curled his lips into a sly little smirk and thrust his hand into his pouch, drawing out a chicken feather he had picked up a few days ago for no particular reason while strolling through the village. He let his dumbfounded captive take a good look at his new weapon before suddenly shoving it up one of her nostrils.
Big as she was, the giantess responded with a sneeze far more powerful than he had imagined; like a huge gust of wind from an approaching hurricane, it sent the tailor flying into the air, allowing him to launch the last stage of his master plan – holding tightly onto his precious thread, he began swinging repeatedly around her mountainous curves in a daring attempt to subdue the barbarian she-beast by tying her up from head to toe. Unable to stop him from doing what he wanted or even cover herself, she watched in horror as great lengths of thin yet extremely strong fiber kept sinking in her bosom, putting the ginormous mammaries into severely uncomfortable restraints; having secured them, the boy didn’t need much time to deal with the rest of her nude body. His own weight was doing most of the work for him, quickly bringing him closer to the ground.
“Never… ever… mess… with a… tailor!” he mumbled under his breath, landing on the grass right in front of her bare feet. After making sure her stunning thighs and calves were indeed squeezed together as they should have been, he took a few steps back and gave a tug on the thread, then dashed away in haste. Bound like an oversized fly in a spider’s cocoon, the giantess immediately lost her balance and fell on the hillside with a crunching thud the country hadn’t heard in centuries. Broken loose by the force of the crash, which sent huge waves through the nearby lake and shook ancient oaks in the forest, a massive boulder tumbled from atop the hill and hit her in the head, knocking her out into a peaceful slumber. As soon as the dust settled, revealing the result of his efforts, Pete sighed in relief – the monster was finally down for the count. Sweaty, dirty and exhausted, barely standing on his own, but still gloriously aware of what he had just accomplished, the boy brushed off his hands with the satisfaction of a seemingly impossible job well done.
“All’s well that ends well,” he uttered quietly, taking off his damp clothes and laying them out on a rock pile to dry. His weakened body demanded a bath and some dinner.
It wasn’t long until a small group of men from the village left their forest hideout and stepped into the field, driven by a growing urge to investigate the disturbing silence that followed the sounds of the battle. Once their eyes got used to the bright glare of sunlight again after hours spent in the thickest gloom of the woods, their mouths dropped open in shock and surprise at the sight of the fallen creature sprawled at the foot of the hill under the clear blue sky, a sight as beautiful and remarkable as it was unexpected. Momentarily transfixed by the image that greeted them, the peasants came back to their senses when one of them noticed Pete relaxing in the shadow of a tree – visibly delighted to see the tailor safe and sound, they sat beside him and asked about the events preceding their arrival. So he told them his story, a shortened-down yet still faithful version stripped of any details he thought were unnecessary or somehow unpleasant to narrate; the men listened closely, shaking their heads in wonder and disbelief. Upon learning he was no mere witness, but the warrior responsible for the giantess’ literal downfall, they returned to their camp and spread the news about his bravery among the rest of the refugees; shortly afterwards, hundreds of cheerful villagers gathered around the boy, hugging him, patting his shoulders, showering him with praise. Not paying attention to his timid protests, they lauded him as a great hero, then rushed to celebrate the heartwarming victory.
“Hooray for Pete! Hooray for our savior!” the people cried in a near ecstatic outburst of joy and admiration, carrying him above their heads; despite all he had been through that day, the little tailor could swear he had never felt so happy in the entirety of his life.
As a punishment for her countless crimes, the captured giantess suffered a fate worse than death. Encased in a tangled mess of thread, ropes and chains virtually impossible to break or untie, secured in a spread eagle position with thick wooden stakes and tickled all over, her lewd body became the main attraction of a newly founded amusement park that soon grew immensely popular across the whole country. Tiny feathers mercilessly stroked her belly, her armpits, and her dirty bare soles, triggering a range of violent reactions the audience welcomed with raucous laughter and continued applause. An enormous Ferris wheel was set in motion between the bouncy walls of her thighs, its riders eagerly seizing the opportunity to tease the narrow opening underneath her now clean-shaven mound; lots of nimble fingers manipulated her gargantuan genitals, providing the plump folds of soft, pinkish flesh with sufficient stimulation to keep her aroused while she was tortured. Ignoring the muffled noises coming from behind a makeshift gag strapped across her mouth, young men armed with various wicked-looking equipment climbed ladders and scaffolds up the mighty twin-peaked mountain of her breasts to work on her huge rigid nipples. Defenseless against the ultimate humiliation, the giantess writhed and squirmed in a never-ending ticklish agony, explosive climaxes wracking her loins at least twice a day; everyone hoped the constant tortures would eventually break her spirit, turning the mindless beast she was into the most precious slave of the Crown, a slave destined to use her amazing strength for the good and benefit of her former victims. Numerous markets and paying stalls set up around her convulsing curves filled the local treasury with insane amounts of gold, not only allowing the people to rebuild what had been destroyed during her rampage, but starting a period of wealth and increased prosperity.
Even though the village could clearly afford it, Pete decided he didn’t want an exact replica of his ruined house anymore and came up with a different design, which immediately received the community’s wholehearted approval – he had a team of skilled craftsmen carve out several rooms and tunnels in the solid rock of the woman-mountain’s colossal club, her deadly weapon becoming a stronghold he knew would withstand any kind of natural disaster or monster attack. No matter how hard his neighbors tried to persuade him to offer his services to the Royalty, he seemed less than excited by the prospects of being rewarded with land and knighthood; proud of his heavily fortified workshop, enjoying the widespread fame and respect his brave deed had earned him, the boy carried on with his simple life as a tailor – most likely one of the best the Kingdom had ever known.