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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

The towering, broad-shouldered man walked up the stairs with quiet, gentle steps. He wore tall boots, loose pants, a flowy shirt and a light jacket; he had a scarf wrapped around the tall peak of his hat. At the top of the stairs, outside his friend's apartment, he lightly knocked and waited for her to answer.

His stomach was doing flips; Gregor was there to ask Cynthia out, and he could not be more nervous.

They were old friends, and, really, there was no one in the world Gregor trusted more than Cynthia. He could tell her anything: call her on a bad day; text her whatever silly random joke made him laugh; confide in her about perversions he felt he could tell no one else; come to her in his weakest moments without feeling awful. Cynthia was his best friend.

Really, Gregor loved Cynthia. As he waited at her door images of her ran through his mind. The two would hang out often, getting a bite here and there, or going to a film or play. Lately, Gregor had seen a lot of Cynthia, and couldn't get her out of his head; the moment finally felt right to ask her out.

It wasn't the first time Gregor had the desire, but the two never seemed to line up: either he was seeing someone, or she was, or they lived too far away - there was always some excuse keeping them apart, but they stayed strong friends through and through.

When he heard the door to her apartment starting to click open, Gregor felt his smile lift up the corners of his mouth. His lips instantly fell when he saw the expression on Cynthia's face.

She looked surprise to see him, and - while not upset that he was there - not excited, either.

Cynthia stood in the doorway in a state of post-shower disarray. She was a good head and a half shorter than Gregor, with a body that was all curves. She wore a simple form-fitting black dress that hugged her amble breasts and tapered down into the sweep of her hips and flared back out over her plump thighs and ass. Cynthia had her blonde hair - which was still a little red from her having dyed it recently - pulled up in a messy, wet bun. She only had half her makeup on and her face was a mixture of colors like an unfinished painting: only one eye was darkened with shadow.

"H-hi, Gregor," Cynthia said, unable to hide her hesitation in her voice.

Gregor looked down at her. He was worried by her reaction, but he just couldn't possibly be upset for more than a moment, looking at Cynthia's beautiful face.

"Hi! Is it okay if I come in?"

"Oh," Cynthia said, and looked back into her apartment.

Gregor raised an eyebrow - was someone else there? No, he saw, as she swung the door wide open. She was alone; he relaxed.

"Of course, of course," Cynthia said. "Come on in. I, um - I'm sorry to seem a little harried; I'm about to go out."

"Oh," Gregor said.

He followed Cynthia into her apartment and stood in the familiar space. Gregor, large as he was, almost felt even taller in Cynthia's small railroad-style apartment; it was a long and narrow room, without any kind of sectioning off for her bedroom, or living room, or kitchen: it all flowed one into the next, though Cynthia did her best to give each area its own feel with her careful decorating. She enjoyed a rustic, gothic vibe: heavy furniture pieces that were draped with thickly woven pillows that looked like they could have been in the corner of a barn; all sorts of unique knick-knacks and pieces of art from flea markets and yard sales; he saw her large bed on the far side of the room, obscured by a veil of drapes hanging from the iron poles overhead. The room was smoky and sweet from the candles and incense Cynthia had lit.

Gregor heard the woman's bare feet thump toward her bathroom behind him. "So, what's up," she called.

The man could feel himself sweating. It wasn't hot in Cynthia's apartment - a nice breeze came in from the far windows, which were cracked open - but he dripped underneath his clothes nonetheless. It wasn't like him. Gregor was usually calm and collected, especially around Cynthia, but already the moment was diverting from how he imagined it. He chewed on his lip as he wondered whether he should just walk out and try another time.

He cleared his throat. "Ah, well, was just stopping by to see if you wanted to grab some dinner and maybe catch a show, but…"

Cynthia thumped back into the room and Gregor turned toward her; the shorter blond smiled up at him. Her makeup was farther along - both eyes done - but not complete. "Well, that's sweet of you." She came close and he felt a sudden blush take his cheeks; Cynthia pressed a hand to his chest and pushed herself up on her tippy-toes, just barely making it to press her soft, warm lips against Gregor's chin.

And then all at once she was gone. He watched her walk over to her dresser and pull out some black tights, and then she smiled at him once more, padding by and toward the restroom once more.

Gregor sighed.

He'd have to try again some other time.

"Well," he called, "I'll let you get ready, Cynthia. I hope you have a fun night."

"Thanks, babe!"

Gregor sighed once more and started for the door. That's when he saw a decoration he didn't recognize, on a small table by the door: a statue made from faded bronze; a beautiful woman sitting on a pile of rocks and reaching her hand out like Adam stretching toward God.

Gregor felt entranced by it, looking at it. It was beautiful work. He found himself walking toward it without even really thinking. His arm went up and his hand stretched toward the figure, as if to complete the illusion of that old piece of work.

"DON'T touch that," Cynthia's voice came; it cracked through the air like a whip.

Gregor jumped. He'd never heard her use that tone before. He looked over and saw her frowning at him from the open bathroom door. Her face softened when she saw how he gazed at her, like a struck puppy.

"It's… It's something special. For later. Um, just don't touch it, okay?" Cynthia let out a heavy breath. "Listen, Gregor, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that. I'm just a little nervous right now."

"What's wrong?"

Cynthia shook her head a little. "I'll tell you later. I really need to finish getting ready and get out of here. Call you later?"

"Okay," Gregor said softly, with a nod.

Cynthia offered him a small, pitying smile, and then she closed the door to the bathroom. He could hear her on the other side of it, moving around; he could see the shadows cast by her legs dancing around in the crack of light at the bottom of the door.

Gregor glanced at the front door of her apartment, and made a move toward it. That little statue caught his eye again.

He snickered and reached an arm toward it, touching his comparatively huge fingertip to the statue's tiny one.

Gregor's eyes went wide; his skin felt pierced as if by a needle. Pain shot through his arm, and spread through him. His body started to shake uncontrollably and he was suddenly too hot; he collapsed into a chair beside the small table, and the statue.

Gregor didn't realize he'd blacked out until he slowly came to. He could feel the inside of his head in a rare way, like he'd just slept for hours and hours, or woke up after a particularly heavy night imbibing. Cynthia's room stretched around him in all directions; he saw it as if through a dreamlike fog.

And then the fog cleared and sudden clarity rushed in; Gregor knew what he saw, but also couldn't comprehend what he saw: Cynthia's previously cramped apartment was now a cavernous space, and he stood no taller than a few inches tall on the chair he'd collapsed upon. Gregor gazed around in a daze, horror stricken at his new impossible reality; his mind tried to tell him it was all just a dream.

A horribly startling sound - a familiar but too-loud metallic screech - dashed Gregor's thoughts and made him jump. His face jerked toward the source of it only to see the vast bathroom door swinging back to reveal a colossus; Cynthia. She moved from the bathroom all at once in a whir of graceful motion that stunned Gregor in how fast and fluid it all was. He found himself flinching and bracing on the chair as she approached, his perch shaking with each one of her quick footsteps.

Cynthia was fully done up in a way that Gregor never saw; he was used to her in a more relaxed mode, or even in sweats and barefeet and no makeup at all. Now her face was a carefully crafted mask of vivid colors that accentuated the sweep of her cheeks and all the subtle angles of her features; her lips were a shade of light purple and she had swathes of gray eyeshadow above her eyes. It was all masterfully blended and gave Cynthia a mysterious and sinister look. Gregor almost didn't recognize his friend at first, especially with her towering size.

She still wore her plain, form-hugging black dress, but now she had a thick, glittering chain belt draped from her curving hips; her bare legs swung by one another; her nylons dangled from her hand. Her red-blond hair was up in a loose ponytail that swished behind her as she moved.

Cynthia came right toward him; but she didn't look down.

Each thudding footstep of her bare feet shook the chair beneath him more and more, until Gregor had to spread his legs and brace himself or he'd fall right over.

Cynthia loomed taller and taller with each passing second. It felt like she was growing; or he was shrinking. Her pretty face so high above never tilted down toward him. Her eyes gazed around absently in front her, lost in her own thoughts.

She didn't hear Gregor's cries, even as she stood over the chair he was perched on and twirled around. Her short black dress fanned up with the motion and Gregor saw her thick and round pale ass cheeks; then all at once they were raising down toward him.

Gregor's screams for Cynthia's attention turned into a single note of trill note of terror.

He fell back, his legs failing; he threw up his little arms and splayed his fingers, willing his hands to act as shields against the falling sky of Cynthia's rear.

A wave of flesh plush but heavy smashed down onto Gregor all at once and forced him flat with a skull-jarring blow and a brutal crunch. Pain surged this his body, racing from his head to his toes and up and down again, up and down. Gregor's mouth, forced open by a scream, was held open by the soft meat stuffed into it; a salty, sour taste hit his tongue: sweat and soap.

As his body sang with pain, Gregor realized something wasn't right. His body, pinned as it was, couldn't budge even to tremble. But his arm: his arm didn't feel right beneath her. It felt crushed and twisted, and Gregor desperately wanted to look at it, to know, but he was stuck fast.

He felt the tonnage of Cynthia's form shifting above him. He was forced to shift with her as her weight rolled over him and crushed him deeper into her flesh.

Gregor could hear sliding, distant, and then all at once light spilled in around him and he felt himself lifting. Then Cynthia's ass suddenly soared into the air with Gregor glued to its surface; something soft and fine stretched over the exposed back of him; a fine weave pressing into him. He could feel it all over his body and realized he was naked.

Cynthia had just finished pulling on her nylons; some still-functioning part of his mind tried to tell, but the rest of him still couldn't believe all of it was happening.

Just like that he was whisked through a space he couldn't see, crushed to Cynthia's ass and held there by the skin-hugging material of her tights.

There was a loud knock of the door, and a renewed sense of urgency by his giant captor to finish whatever last-second tasks she sought to complete. Then he heard her clomp-clomping across the room in her heavy boots - Gregor could picture them in his mind without even having to see them: black, knee-high, laced all the way up, a heavy tread - and then he heard the front door being opened.

"Hey, Cynthia," a familiar, deep voice said.

Gregor's whirled; Who was it? Who could it be?

"Hey there, handsome," Cynthia replied.

The words ran Gregor through like a spear. His mind had no answers for him. Instead, it turned off.

###

CLOMP. CLOMP. CLOMP. CLOMP.

And laughter.

"Oh my goood," Cynthia was saying, clearly drunk.

He heard the man's familiar but rumbling voice laugh.

Gregor's mind put the pieces together even as he rejected them: he was still tiny, and crushed to the curving flesh of Cynthia's ample rump.

A key clicked too-loud in a distant keyhole and then he heard metal shriek as the door was forced open. The giants moved into the apartment, laughing.

Cynthia! Gregor's mouth couldn't move, but he also couldn't stop screaming in his mind. Cynthia, please!

She giggled sweetly at something the giant said that Gregor couldn't hear. Then Cynthia let out a throaty mmm and, even though the tiny many couldn't see them, Gregor's mind still conjured images of Cynthia and whoever this man was embracing as his ears picked up on the telltale sounds of their bodies sliding together.

They kissed with wet smacks; each one a hammer whacking at Gregor's heart. He felt tears wetting his cheeks, smeared there by the suffocating flesh of Cynthia's rear. He still couldn't move, or check his arm; the limb was now just a dull ache - his bones felt like they were arranged in a zigzagging pattern over her skin. The nylon that held him fast was damp and smelled sweetly of Cynthia's sweat and perfume. He heard their lips, their tongues.

Then something heavy brushed across Gregor and his ruined arm lit up with pain again. He screamed silently into Cynthia's ass as if into a pillow; the weight was gone just as quickly as it came.

"Um." The man's voice, like distant thunder, filled Gregor's ears.

"What is it," Cynthia's softer but powerful pitch above him asked.

"I, ah, I felt something."

"Felt something?"

A weight returned. A different weight. He felt points of pressure exploring him, painfully probing at him; Cynthia's fingertips.

"Oh god, what is that? A lump?"

Her fingers dug around him. Again his broken arm was twisted and manipulated. He bit down into her flesh once more from the pain.

"Ah!" Cynthia exclaimed.

"What is it," the giant man asked, worried.

"I don't know!"

Gregor's body moved with the curve of Cynthia's ass; clomp, clomp, clomp!

The moments flew by before Gregor could latch onto them. All at once he heard something sliding above him, and then the bare flesh of Cynthia's fingers pressed down around him and pulled him up, clumsily, unaware of what he was. His body and mind braced as he rocketed up far too fast, covering dozens of meters all at once. Light blinded him, and he was only dimly aware of the structure of Cynthia as he was hoisted aloft.

He felt himself being turned, twisted. And then Cynthia's hand became a stable platform, and he worked to steady himself atop her raised palm.

Cynthia's giant face filled Gregor's vision.

Her makeup wasn't as crisp and her eyes were glazed with drink, but the surprise he saw there filled him with a sudden relief as his dark brown eyes gazed into hers, light green.

"Gregor?" She asked in a whisper; her hot breath washed over him. He could smell liquor and seafood and cigarettes.

He could feel her breath swirl around his arm. Oh no, he thought: his arm! He looked down at it and his eyes widened at the terrible reality of his injury. His limb was completely crumpled and no longer two straight lines connected at the elbow. His hand was a smashed lump. His brain seized with pain, looking at it.

"Oh, Gregor," Cynthia's voice was louder now, and he winced at its boom. "Gregor, your arm!"

The giant woman jumped and the tiny man tumbled as a knock at the bathroom door startled them both.

"Um," came the male voice on the other side of the door. "Is everything okay in there?"

Gregor looked up at Cynthia; the vision of her face swam with his pain.

Her cool green eyes looked down at him, full of worry. Then her head turned toward the door.

The man called again; "Cynthia?

"Cynthia," Gregor pleaded, "Don't show me to him! Hide me!"

She either didn't hear him or didn't listen. The giant woman moved toward the door and pulled it open to reveal her date for the night. Gregor's eyes widened in surprise. There stood Kellen, an old friend he hadn't seen in a while. The slender, youthful-looking man was usually quite a bit short than him - than Cynthia, by a little, even - but now he loomed over, a giant as surely as the woman who held him.

Kellen gazed askance at Cynthia's, then his eyes dipped down with hers and his thin face took on the same surprised expression as Gregor's. The man was an artist - one who produced work Gregor was fond of - and his light brown hair was cut short and chopping, and silver loop earrings glinted at the end of his lobes. He wore a simple gray-and-black striped shirt and skinny black jeans and just a little eyeliner; his pale blue eyes were absolutely piercing.

The man's surprise left him just as fast as it came; it turned into a look of anger. "Oh, you've got to be fuckin' kidding me." Kellen's eyes snapped upward toward Cynthia's. "He used it?"

"I guess he did," Cynthia replied quietly.

The towering, thin man twirled dramatically away with a pain groan. "Oh, fuck! What rotten luck." After taking a few steps away he turned back toward Cynthia. "It's ruined now, and it was damned expensive!"

Gregor realized he was whimpering as she trembled and shook atop Cynthia's upturned palm, holding his crumpled arm in a useless attempt to nurse the pain.

"I'm sorry," Cynthia said softly. Gregor could hear the hurt in her voice. It made him want to hop up and charge Kellen, but the man's towering form and his own tiny size kept him down.

"It's not your fault," Kellen said, walking back over with loud claps of his hard-soled shoes. He loomed over Gregor again and looked down at him with a frown. "You fucked it all up, Gregor. Really ruined it. What were you doing over here anyway?"

"He just came by," Cynthia.

"Yeah, just came by." Kellen spat out a bitter laugh. "I'm sure. Well, I guess we better reverse this damage. Either way, our fun for this evening's ruined."

Gregor looked from Kellen's angry face to Cynthia's high above him; she was gazing down on him with hurt in her eyes. It wasn't worry, he realized, too late; then her eyes started to flash between Gregor and Kellen and it was almost as if the tiny man could see the mechanisms of her mind shifting and locking into a differently place.

Almost impossibly a small but uneasy smile formed her lips.

Gregor was immediately flooded with dread he didn't understand, but his mind was sure he should feel it.

"Well," Cynthia began, her voice the barest whisper, "Our fun doesn't have to be ruined."

Gregor's head snapped up toward the colossal object of his love; "Cynthia?"

Kellen's shoes clacked loudly against the floor as he approached her and the two giants stood close, Gregor held between then.

"Are you…" Kellen began, but didn't finish - just as fast Cynthia leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

Gregor was horrified as he was held there, helpless, watching as the giants pulled one another closer around him and locked lips and pushed at one another's tongues. They were noisy, carrying on as if the tiny man wasn't there at all. His ruined arm throbbed and the corners of his vision blackened, but his mind was not as merciful as it'd been earlier; he stayed conscious, and watched them couple with dread.

When they pulled away from one another, Kellen was breathless. "Are we really doing this?"

Cynthia looked down quickly at Gregor and then back up at her giant lover. Something about her face had changed; she looked at him in a way he'd never seen before, like he was a different person to her now.

"Yes," she answered.

The giants move together in a whirl of movement around Gregor. He watched, powerless to stop it, as he was whisked toward Cynthia's huge bed.

One of her hands swept the drapes aside; she lowered Gregor down to the padded expanse of the bed's patterned dark green blanket and let the man tumble. Gregor cried out in pain as something in his bad arm cracked.

The giants kissed hungrily. Over and over. They shed their clothing to the floor. Then, naked, they crashed down onto the bed-top all around Gregor, a tangle of giant limbs.

His pleas were ignored.

Cynthia hooked a long, thick finger around Gregor and crushed his little body against her pussy lips. Hot; wet. The thick, sharp scent of her sex filled him as she smothered him against her and moaned.

"Oh, he feels so goddamn good!"

"That should be me, you tiny fucking cunt," Kellen's angry voice said.

Cynthia replied between excited little breaths. "Maybe this is better."

The giant chuckled richly. "Maybe so."

Gregor glanced up at Cynthia hoping to find mercy there, but she only glared back down. Her finger moved behind him and pressed the length of his tiny naked form against his plush, dripping lips; his was smashed face-first into the hard knob of her clit, as big as his head.

"Lick me, you bug-bitch!"

Gregor's tongue fell out of his mouth and before he could stop himself he lapped at Cynthia's glistening clit.

"Oh god. Oh yes." Cynthia eased back into a mountain of pillows, sliding her hips forward and shifting beneath Gregor so that he fell across the folds of her vagina. Still he licked, driven by fear of her; fear of the way she'd looked at him. Her clit hardened as he worked it, and he had trouble staying in place as her body rocked with pleasure and her pussy grew more moist with each of his movements.

Gregor heard the laugh behind him almost too late, and was only just able to get out of the way as Kellen's huge dick came down toward him. He scrambled out from under Cynthia's descending fingers as she spread her lips for Kellen's rock hard cock. For a shorter man - and especially as a giant - Kellen had a magnificent and large penis.

Out of nowhere one of Cynthia's finger whacked the tiny man and he felt a sudden warmth trickle down his face. "Lick," she ordered, and then she gasped as Kellen thrust into her again. he stretched out overhead like a canopy of smooth, hairless flesh, and Gregor worked Cynthia's throbbing clit in the giant's shadow as his hard cock slid in and out of her. They moaned and groaned and Gregor cried as he worked to pleasure the woman who, earlier that day, he'd hoped to ask out. He wanted to be where Kellen was, riding atop Cynthia and hearing her moan his name.

The two fucked and fucked and it never seemed to end.

Then: "Kellen!" Cynthia gasped appreciatively.

"Ungh," the giant muttered.

"No, not yet," Cynthia urged.

All at once Gregor felt himself plucked up and Cynthia held the tiny's drenched, sticky body between her fingertips, grinning down at him. The giant woman's other hand brought a square of something up to her lips and she tore the corner of it off with her teeth. Gregor heard Kellen chuckle, loud and powerful, somewhere high behind him. He realized what was going on all too late as Cynthia brought him up toward her face and gazed at him, imperious, cold, with her faded green eyes.

"You got in my way tonight, Gregor. You keep getting in my way. And you know what? I'm just not into you, okay? So, if you keep insisting on butting in, here-"

Gregor was lowering all at once; he was pressed against some kind of thin material, like a tarp.

"-Be in the way all you like!"

The landscape of bodies all around Gregor shifted and Cynthia's face moved away from him; Kellen's grin replaced her. Then he was lowered down the length of the slender man's body, and Kellen's hard, dripping cock appeared above him. Gregor screamed as he was pressed up against it; the head of Kellen's cock crashed down onto him and pushed him deep inside the condom. The man's slit pressed into his chest. The smell of his cum and sweat filled Gregor's nostrils. He could sense the condom being rolled along the length of Kellen's meat before it started to move; to be aimed.

"This way," Gregor heard Cynthia gasp as her body moved somewhere out of sight.

He strained to see her, turning his head and trying to make her out through the plasticky material.

Cynthia was on her hands and knees on the bed, and Gregor could see her milky, pale ass facing his way.

He screamed as he was pushed toward her through the air, driven forward as if he was strapped into a rollercoaster and couldn't stop it.

Cynthia moaned wildly as Kellen pushed his cock into her anus, thrusting deep. Hot, thick liquid oozed out over Gregor and dripped down all around him.

The world was dark. Gregor was pushed forward and backward over and over, lost in a void deep inside of Cynthia's ass. He heard her scream "yes!" in pure ecstasy and Kellen groaning loud and loud.

Gregor screamed.

He kicked at the cockhead and beat at it with his good arm.

Kellen's hot cum exploded all over Gregor, and all at once the tiny man felt the strong muscles all around him close in with the terrible crackling crunch of his own body breaking.

 

Chapter End Notes:

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