You have no idea what might go wrong if you wait- it is imperative to get Cassandra's attention NOW.

However, this is clearly easier said than done- she's wearing headphones, so you can't call out to her, she's watching something, so it's unlikely she'll see you, and she's sitting near-vertically in that office chair of hers, and you're not even sure that you can reach her downward tipped toes at this point.

You guess that there's only one way to find out- to test it.

You make a mad dash for the nerdy redhead's feet, your only real lifeline to her. If you can't reach evn them, you can basically forget your chances of survival, let alone a return to normalcy.

She makes several idle comments about what it is she's watching, but you tune those out so you can focus on what you believe is important now- getting her attention. Had you been paying attention, you would have waited just a while longer.

Cassandra's car-sized tootsies make several sweeping passes over your head, as she is kicking the swiveling chair back and forth to express her excitement with the plot. Eventually, however, Cassandra settles down enough for you to reach up and try to touch her hanging toes. Just a tickle to get her attention should be enough, in case you can't reach higher. If you can't even manage that . . . 

You failed to take one thing into account, however- Cassandra's fangirling ship becoming ascended to canon. Just as you reach high enough to provide the slightest brushing on Cassandra's dangling toe, just as you finally feel safe in the belief that you'll get back to normal size, she lets out a sound so loud it immobilizes you. It was a high-pitched scream, one that the Internet knows all too well in its smaller variety- Cassandra Carrier had just unknowingly weaponized a squee.

The second sonic squee is no stronger or weaker than the last, but this time it is accompanied by excited, extremely rapid miniature stomps, which pulverize your five-inch body into paste amost immediately.

"Eee!" she squeaks joyfully, fist-pumping all over the place. "They kissed, they kissed, I called it, I'm gonna rub it in the faces of those jerks from the forums! They can all go kiss my ass!" In her excitement, her glasses bounce off the edge of her nose and onto the desk. As she stands to do a victory dance, your remains are smeared, leaving nothing left that could be recognized as a person- you've merely joined the filth on a geeky twentysomehing's feet.

The worst part, you think as your consciousness drifts away into nonbeing, is that she doesn't notice or care that she killed me. I'm dead and all that matters is the fanservice.

And thus, your life is snuffed out by a pair of soft feet, with your murderess none the wiser. When she goes to check on you for a sexual request two hours later, she panics at you being gone, and gets herself beaten up by Caroline for insinuating that she was hiding you somewhere. Cassandra's morining shower rids the world of evidence you were ever a iving person. While the girls searc for you for a day, in the end none of them care enough to want to send out search parties. Within a week, you get replaced.

However, she did get the opportunity to tell off an entire forum for calling her absolutely favorite ship crack. Cassandra got to do the impossible and win an argument on the Internet,

BAD END

Retry? http://giantessworld.net/viewstory.php?sid=4569&chapter=1