He was cornered. Nowhere to run.

The singular fate he had tried so hard to avoid was finally upon him.

His mouth opened to call for help but barely any sound came out, just a raspy, reedy puff of nothing. His body felt as if it had been completely immobilised, his throat stuck, muscles torn between the twin instincts of fight or flight.

He knew that he needed to yell at the top of his lungs to attract someone’s attention, but, agonisingly, he could not, and now all of the things he had tried to push out of his head that week began to flood back in.

The giant redhead swept a burly arm over the top of the door and reached down for the lock exploratively, pinching the bolt between forefinger and thumb and sliding it open with a metallic squeak. She was preposterously out of scale with her environment, like an adult checking in on a children’s Wendy house.

“N-o…” he strained to say through ragged breaths, frog well and truly wedged down his gullet.

She swung the door wide with a roll of her shoulders and slid her huge body into the space, completely filling Jack’s vision with her mountainous torso, shrink-wrapped in a low-cut white training top with her prodigious chest framed by her hefty arms. Jack shrank back onto the toilet seat as far as he could go, but there was nowhere to hide.

Her face peered down at him; freckles, soft lips and piercing blue eyes, all impressively set into her granite-like features.

“Trying to hide, pipsqueak?” she said coquettishly, reaching out with an elephantine digit and poking him in the ribs with force, jabbing her nail in a manner that was intended to provoke him.

He winced, refusing to dignify her with a response, just staring up at her in denial, his head slowly shaking from one side to the other in silent horror.

Her smile only grew broader.

“Giving me the silent treatment already?” she asked, rhetorically, and tutted sarcastically.

“Tell you what…” she continued, “Let’s play a little game.”

A huge hand raised itself from her side and meaty, inch-thick fingers wrapped themselves gently but unyieldingly around his jaw and upper neck.

“I’m going to ask you a question…” the giantess explained, lifting her arm up just enough so that Jack could feel the strain on his Adam’s apple. His hands snaked up to clasp at her fingers helplessly, knowing that he would never be able to pry them off his windpipe.

“…and when I do, you’re going to answer,” she continued patronisingly, cocking her head to one side as if explaining something achingly obvious to a particularly stupid child, “Got it?”

No response. The giantess rolled her eyes theatrically. She hadn’t expected anything less from him.

Her face descended close to his own, a few strands of fine red hair that weren’t pulled back into her ponytail tickled his cheeks as her mouth hovered level with his.

“How did you get out of my house?” she asked firmly and directly.

The smell of chewing gum and half-digested lunchtime fare washed over his face like a layer of thick smog. Her large, ice-blue eyes were so close now, glistening wet as they examined him with tiny micro-adjustments, her expression hardening as he continued to refuse her request.

“Don’t test me, runt,” she warned, blinking her long lashes, her powerful grip squeezing around his windpipe with a momentary flex of her wrist to show she meant business.

He could make out the little squiggles in her hauntingly blue irises, the near-circular shape of her overlarge pupils defined by the wrinkle of muscle that surrounded it.

He had to say something. If he didn’t speak she would get angry, and if she got angry she would make him pay.

He tried to shake his head, but it was locked in place. With some effort, he managed to splutter out a response.

“I d-dunno,” he choked in a thin, raspy voice, watching her expression closely to gauge her reaction.

“You don’t know…?” she repeated incredulously, almost amused by his bare-facedness, the fire behind the eyes flickering.

“You expect me to believe that?” she snarled, lifting him clean off the toilet, right up to the bathroom ceiling in one sudden, disorientating motion. He frantically tried to reduce the strain on his neck somehow, squeezing his little fingers between the gaps of her larger ones, trying to somehow hold his weight up enough to stop her from strangling him outright.

“P-p-please …” he half-gagged, his eyes lolling down to inadvertently marvel at the striated muscles of her forearm as she held him aloft so easily.

“How?” she demanded, glaring at him furiously.

He hesitated, trying to cope with a compressed larynx that was making his eyes water.

“HOW?!” she repeated aggressively, shaking him like a ragdoll, smacking his rucksack into the ceiling a couple times.

He could barely breathe, his mouth opening and closing uselessly as the pressure on his neck refused to let up. He couldn’t have responded now even if he had wanted to.

“Ugh…” the schoolgirl spat, lowering and dropping him onto the toilet seat petulantly, causing his ass to bounce on the lid in a manner that would have been comical if it weren’t so utterly humiliating.

Jack’s hands went straight to his neck, gasping for air, before the angry giantess resumed her interrogation.

“Listen up, fuckwad…” she began again, looming over him once more, forcing him to crane the sore neck he had just begun to nurse.

“…if you don’t tell me, I may have to repeat our little… sleepover,” she added, flexing a shoulder in anticipation, “Just to see if you can repeat the trick. Would you like that?”

Jack dry-swallowed audibly. He was beginning to tremble uncontrollably as it dawned on him just how royally fucked he was.

He couldn’t think of anything to say. He couldn’t tell her he had been helped by anyone, and he couldn’t think of anything to lie about it. He just stared up at her as her jaw set harder… and harder… and harder.

“Fine, we’ll do this the hard way, dipshit,” she said finally, her jaw jutting off to one side to show her displeasure.

He felt a large hand swallow up his right arm.

“Please, n-no…,” he pleaded.

“You had your chance…” she spat brusquely, reaching around with her other arm.

He began to protest, but a near-8-inch-long finger pressed itself into his lips firmly, smearing his mouth off to one side and forcing him to stop talking.

The first hand began to wrench him by the arm towards the girl’s vast body, dragging him off the seat easily and twisting his torso down and in towards her chest.

His objections were muffled out as she pressed his little head into the soft prison of her enormous cotton-wrapped bosom, then curled her giant arms around his body and backpack like she was carefully cradling a toddler to her for safety.

“Consider this the first part of your punishment,” she explained matter-of-factly.

“You can’t be serio-!” he tried to scream, but his face was smushed right up against her right yam so forcefully that his cry was cut short. “BCH YRABCH GTFME YUBXCH” he continued to yell in muffled fury as she methodically peeled his jeans down the back of his skinny legs with a finger and thumb and then slid his tiny underwear down too.

He was fully blubbering now, flaring his nostrils in the hot, stuffy pocket of air trapped beneath her titanic breasts, tears of pain and anger and humiliation streaming down his cheeks as the overgrown teenager nonchalantly prepared his keister for the inevitable.

A playful pat on the rear was enough to set him off yelping, he could feel her whole body rock with perverse laughter as he convulsed and squirmed to no avail.

Jack felt an incredibly hard blow to his backside, like he’d fallen down ass-first onto a concrete floor from a significant drop, and it momentarily stopped him crying due to the shock.

“PWWEEEEEASE STPPPP,” his muffled cry refrained as the giantess’ arm geared up for another strike.

The second was far harder, it felt like his spine was being set upon by a pile driver as her shovel-sized palm hit him square and true, not only knocking the stuffing out of him but catching his genitals in the process, sending a sharp pain through him like a knife.

“CAITLLIIIIIIN,” he bawled to no avail, trying to somehow free his pinned arms and protect himself from the blows as both his back and backside threatened to burst from the pain.

The third impact made him feel violently ill. He was extended so far beyond his limits now. Any more of this and she would surely crack his spine. Her power was simply unspeakable, his fragile body just could not cope. He felt himself on the verge of blacking out as his limbs went slack; he just crumpled weakly in her grasp as the fight left him completely… she sensed it immediately.

“Barely three licks… pathetic,” he heard her scoff, her torso twisting once more in anticipation of another devastating blow.

He screamed violently into her prodigious tit as he felt her enormous arm whip around, but the impact never came, instead, shrill laughter could be heard as the overgrown bully mocked his suffering, placing her palm gently on his backside, causing his entire body to flinch.

The pain in his rear end was almost unbearable, added to the soreness of his trampled leg and his battered pride, Caitlin had once again reduced him to a gibbering wreck purely for her own sadistic amusement.

She extricated him from her ‘embrace’ and dumped him unceremoniously on the floor, his bare ass smacking onto the hard tiles with an undignified thud as he sobbed. It was absolutely burning, he half expected it to be bleeding given the severity of the flogging she’d dished out in just three blows.

She was lapping this up, all of it. His misery was her pleasure, in all manner of ways.

“Aw honey,” she pouted at him, her powerful arms returning to her own body as she rested her spanking hand on her mighty thighs, “Are you sowwy?”

He didn’t dare look up.

“Ha,” she laughed, sneering at his bowed head and submissive posture, “So fucking pathetic.”

He shook his head slowly, almost imperceptibly, a tear rolling down his cheek.

She was toying with him so effortlessly. He was as weak as a baby compared to her, and she had demonstrated it in the most on-the-nose fashion imaginable.

She lowered herself down towards him, enjoying every last morsel of his distress, but he kept his head bowed.

Strong fingers gripped the top and sides of his head firmly and wrenched it up so that he could do nothing but stare at the horrible schoolgirl.

“Guess what, Jack, you’re even more of a cuck than I recall,” she boasted.

Her glossy pink lips stuck together slightly as he went into a kind of trance.

He could clearly see the slightly cracked, oversized texture of her lips, the slight smudge where she had applied the gloss too hastily, and the little hairs on her upper lip that you can only see when you get incredibly close to someone.

“Last chance, if you tell me how you escaped,” the colossal redhead continued, “I won’t break you… for now.”

He began to shiver uncontrollably, but still he said nothing.

“And believe me,” she mouthed hypnotically, her voice more of a seductive whisper than the booming roar he was so accustomed to, “Nothing would be easier than breaking you again, runt.”

“F-fuck you,” Jack spat, taking her aback, “Fuck… you.”

Her expression dropped as it took her by surprise, but it was only for a brief moment. His words had seemingly shocked her, as impossible as that seemed.

Perhaps she had hoped for an easy win, that by spanking him, he would crumble. He was pleased to disappoint her.

It lit a fire under him. He was tired of begging, tired of being manipulated into the pathetic Beta puppet she so desired. If he was going to face this, he was going to be as difficult as possible. He couldn’t let her break him, he couldn’t let her win.

Her face contorted into one of savage rage, almost of betrayal, and she squeezed his head so hard so that his vision blurred and he felt instantly light-headed.

He went to scream out, but her other hand clamped over his mouth, snuffing out his cries of anguish in an instant, her fingers threatening to crush his little skull in on itself as she bared her teeth in fury.

He knew for certain that this would be the last thing he would see before he lost consciousness, but the pressure let up almost as suddenly as it began, and he could see the anger fading from her eyes. She had perhaps figured out that he had got to her, and wanted to regain her composure, and thus her control over him.

“Cocky little shit, aren’t you?” she admitted, her tone dripping in condescension, “Getting a cheap rise out of me, but it won’t work for long.”

He stared her down defiantly, but a smile had now returned to the giantess’ features. This was still a hopeless no-win scenario for Jack, and she fully planned on delivering.

“I was probably going to let you go, if you’d told me the truth,” she continued, “But now I think that maybe you’ve earned yourself a little more… thinking time.”

“Y-you were always g-going to do this to me, C-caitlin,” Jack spat out bitterly, “Don’t play games with m-me.”

She feigned mock disbelief, her Cheshire grin omnipresent, “But I thought that’s what you liked,” she pouted, “For me to play games with a little toy like you?”

“I d-don’t want any of this,” he stammered quietly, staring up at her as she gripped his fragile head between her gigantic hands, “And you kn-know it.”

“Oh save it,” she spat, wrenching him towards her in one quick motion and seemingly immobilising him in an instant. He felt her big hands forcibly remove his rucksack, then flip him and pat him down as he struggled to stop her with desperate grunts and squeals.

“You won’t be needing this,” she explained matter-of-factly, waggling his miniature phone in front of his face before tucking it inside her t-shirt top, pushing it deep into her sports bra with one long, pink-nailed digit. He tried to shout out in protest but she quickly shoved his face hard into the underside of one of her breasts, twisting his neck painfully. His flailing arms ineffectually pushed and probed at her vast rack and biceps as she continued to easily contort his frail body and verify that he had no further possessions that could help him contact the outside world.

She was preparing to abduct him again. He knew it, and it was obvious that this time she wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. He wanted to beg her to reconsider, to appeal to her better judgement, but deep down he knew she had made up her mind and it would only excite her more to hear him plead with her. She wouldn’t risk carrying him out of the bathroom, so she would likely knock him out here, and then return with her sports bag, tie him up and gag him.

He knew Delon would know, he’d figure it out when got to class and noticed his friend would be missing, and if Alex hadn’t already noticed Delon would tell her immediately… but none of that would change anything immediate… he was still in grave danger.

His thoughts turned to what Caitlin would do to him… was currently doing to him. She had beaten him already, choked him, nearly cracked his skull, not to mention the leg that had been stood upon barely a few minutes ago. He was so fucked, so so fucked…

He was getting light-headed, and short on breath, and it felt like Caitlin was just allowing him to weakly pummel at her chest with his arms, probably getting turned on by the whole thing, but to lie there and accept his fate meekly would be even more humiliating. He could feel her body shift, and she lifted her chest away from his face, seizing his little head between her long, talon-like fingers once more.

She had what she wanted, she had him, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

Without a further word, she clamped her fingers down firmly over his mouth and nostrils, cutting off his air supply as his frightened eyes darted around.

Everything began to go blurry… and dark… and then he was unconscious once more.