Yvonne had known I had to work late with Olivia, so when I got in the next morning, she poked her head into my office and teased me that I survived the evening unharmed.
I offered a weak smile and chuckle in response, but I didn’t tell her anything, primarily because I still had no idea how to feel about it.
Part of me, of course, was in denial that anything had happened, that the residual chill I still felt was just in my head. But the impressions left by all those fantastic sensations haunted my every stray moment.
Had I been raped? There was no denying that on one level I definitely desired something like that scenario to happen. I had never had an orgasm like that, and I would love to feel that degree of pleasure again.
On the other hand, I never once indicated to Olivia that I wanted her to do any of the things she did, and of course I was terrified by the encounter, which had destroyed any possibility of a professional working relationship with her.
I couldn’t tell Yvonne about what happened because I hadn’t decided what had happened for myself. I also had no idea whether she would be more distressed if I told her I had been raped by my supervising attorney or if I told her I had let my supervising attorney give me a blow job.
Monday arrived, and the production went out without incident. I saw Olivia a couple of times that day, and you’d never think from her demeanor that the previous week she had swallowed my jism. I tried not to think about it, but every time I caught sight of my reflection, I felt the chill in my chest again.
The next day, my phone rang after lunch and the caller ID displayed Zorah’s extension.
“Olivia wants a meeting,” she said.
“Now?” I asked.
“No, Easter Sunday. Yes now.”
“On my way—“ I said, but she hung up before I finished.
Zorah barely acknowledged my arrival with a glance, and I had no excuse not to proceed into Olivia’s office. She was sitting at her computer when I reached her doorway, and she looked up immediately.
“Come in, Tyler,” she said. “Close the door.”
I closed the door as she quickly finished typing whatever she had been working on. When I turned back around Olivia was looking at me expectantly, and I had little alternative but to take a seat.
“I wanted to thank you again for your work on the production,” she began. “I’ve spoken to Georgia. You’re now permanently assigned to my practice group. If you ever need work, come see me. My needs come first. Do you understand?”
“Of course,” I said.
“We’ll see about that soon enough,” she said, standing up and walking to the shelving unit behind her desk. “Come over here, please.”
Numbly, I got up and walked over next to her. I didn’t see any files and I couldn’t figure out what she was going to show me.
As I approached, Olivia never took her eyes off me, and when I stopped to sit on the edge of her desk, she spoke a single, unearthly word: “Inshil-hatam.”
I breathed a whiff of sulphur, and then I went into another waking vision. I was falling through immense tents or sails made out of light cotton and dark polyester. The fabric billowed around me but failed to catch me or even really cushion my impact on the ground. I didn’t seem injured by the fall, but even though I was completely buried in the tenting or whatever, I felt cold, and not just because I was also naked.
The huge sheets of fabric rustled and were drawn up, and the part I was standing on was yanked from beneath my feet. I fell forward as the fabric was lifted up, and I hastily decided that I would rather tumble out onto the ground rather than be lofted blind into another maelstrom. I landed painfully on my palms and knees, then I tucked my limbs in trying to guard my head and my balls.
I was still trying to identify the spongy material covering the ground when there was a dull roar, as if the sky itself was sighing in satisfaction. I looked up, and what I saw somehow made my chest feel even colder.
A giant Olivia loomed over me. She was huge, easily over 40 meters tall. She was holding in one enormous hand all the tent-like material I had been caught in and which I now identified as equally giant versions of the clothes I had worn to work that day. My immense shoes lay on their side nearby, next to Olivia’s building-sized desk. At that point, my mind began to accept that Olivia had not become gigantic but rather that I had become tiny.
It’s just a dream, I thought as Olivia reached down with her colossal hand and wrapped her log-sized fingers around my trembling naked body. Her skin was intensely warm, and even though I was terrified of her I clung to her hand as she lifted me up and carried me to the shelf. I clung even harder when it became apparent that my destination was a spherical glass bowl too small to house commensurately-sized goldfish. It was for naught, as her giant hand easily shucked my helpless frame into the cold, hard prison.
I lay on my side, rubbing my shoulders as I watched the gargantuan Olivia gather my absurdly large clothes and deposit them in the cabinet below the shelf holding my glass cell. I shut my eyes and repeated “it’s just a dream” until the bowl lurched and I shouted in shock and tried to prevent myself from rolling as the immense Olivia picked up the bowl and carried it to her desk.
I goggled at the splayed fingers of her giant hands just underneath me as they held the bowl and set it down on the plain of her desk. No longer being jostled, I pushed up from the glass floor and tried to make out the closed office door, impossibly far away. I had been dreading Olivia’s godlike voice, but I didn’t realize how scared I was until she spoke and I nearly voided my bowels right in the center of the fishbowl.
“Get up, little Tyler,” her voice thundered in the bowl like a cosmic reckoning.
Shakily I stood up and, holding both hands in front of my privates, I turned to face my titanic captor.
Even if I had not been imprisoned in the bowl, Olivia’s monumental regard would have held me immobile. Her thick dreadlocks now formed a lush forest that swayed with each turn of her mighty head. Her dark, full lips stretched over her powerful teeth in an imperious smile. Her haughty cheekbones rose over me like the prow of an implacable ship. Her python-sized eyebrows arched mischievously at me. Most possessing were her dark brown eyes, like bottomless pools of twilight.
“This can’t be happening,” I whispered.
“Welcome to your new life, little Tyler,” she boomed, causing my knees to buckle. “You are mine. Do you understand?”
I understood almost nothing, but I instinctively nodded.
“I will take you whenever I want, for whatever I want,” she continued. “It is time for your first task.”
She reached her tree-sized arm into the bowl. Even though I had mentally surrendered to Olivia’s terrible beauty and size, something in my limbic system recoiled from the monstrous hand descending toward me and I scurried around the perimeter of the bowl, the tiny circumference underlining how pathetic my flight was. She quickly gathered me up into her irresistible grasp and raised me to her bemused face.
As Olivia chuckled at my plight, I got my first close look at her perilous mouth. She could decapitate me or crush me into paste with a single bite, or just swallow me whole. She can’t eat me, I thought desperately, then I wouldn’t be able to do anything for her. Unless she had the power to bring me back afterwards. . .
“I have a lot of work to do,” she rumbled as I hung helpless in her fist. “I require constant stimulation, which you, little Tyler, will provide.”
She started lowering her hand, and I looked down to see that she had hiked her skirt up to reveal her strong, brown legs, each longer than an 18-wheeler. She effortlessly spread her immense thighs to further expose her underwear, a deep purple triangle of doom. With her other hand, she pulled back the waistband to reveal her giant pussy, covered in a tangle of dark curly hairs.
I would like to say that I regarded the impending encounter with nothing but the deepest horror, and indeed I remained as terrified as I was when I first looked up from the floor at the giantess Olivia. But clinging to her huge hand, her warm fingers wrapped around my naked skin, I had to admit the oncoming sight of her garage-sized pussy evoked both wonder and, yes, desire.
She again easily dumped me out of her hand into her open panties. I landed on my ass on the purple silk and scrambled to find my footing so I could look up and address the huge Olivia for the first time.
“What am I supposed to do?” I shouted.
My giant supervisor gazed down over the rise of her C-cup breasts and past the rolls of her skirt bunched on her abdomen at me struggling in her underwear. Her expression held expectation, amusement, and absolutely no pity.
“I’m told you are extremely resourceful, little Tyler,” she said. “Here’s your chance to prove it.” She let go of the waistband, trapping me against her snatch.
The smells were intense and inescapable, but they did not differ much from the scents of any of the other women who have wanted my face in their crotches. There was, however, something about the saltier flavors that suggested a primordial sea, almost as old as the earth itself, that held both more peril and more opportunity.
I was confronted with the thicket of dense curly hair covering her eight-foot-tall vulva and extending beyond. Her soft lips radiated more heat than her palm. What am I supposed to do with this? I thought. She didn’t expect me to crawl inside, did she?
I yelped in surprise as something, almost certainly Olivia’s giant fingers, slammed into my back through the purple fabric and shoved me halfway between her pliant outer lips. Okay, I thought, reaching in and up, here’s hoping she’s not an “innie.”
Her thick curls scratched my naked skin as I shouldered my way inside her outer lips, which closed about me like a fleshy sleeping bag. Olivia’s enormous clitoris hung over me like a large rubbery papaya, and when touching it I could feel her pulse. I could fit both my spread hands around its base, and I when I grasped it a low “Mmmm” filtered down to me through Olivia’s diaphragm.
For a while I just jacked her clit off like it was the shaft of a giant dick. Then my fingers started to cramp up, so I switched to rolling my palms, like I was trying to kindle a fire by rubbing a log. Eventually all I could manage was to slowly knead her clit as it throbbed and stiffened in my hands. I had no idea if I was performing as expected, but I wasn’t menaced again by Olivia’s giant fingers.
Meanwhile, the slick curtains of her inner lips were constantly brushing against my naked chest, thighs, and cock. Throughout the ordeal the scent and sensation would start to get a rise out of me, until I thought about the deep cave beyond and cringed.
I don’t know how long Olivia kept me in her underwear “stimulating” her, but it didn’t take long before I was drenched in my own sweat. Her own smells and wetness did not increase much, but her whole pelvis twitched suddenly on a couple of occasions. My labors continued uninterrupted, held securely as I was in my labial cocoon.
I was soaked, exhausted, and overheated by the time Olivia’s giant fingers pulled the waistband back and fished me out of her crotch. I grunted in shock at the sudden cool air. My limbs turned to rubber as I lay back between her thumb and forefinger. Trembling, I could not meet her dominating gaze.
“You did a good job, little Tyler,” she purred, louder in my ears than a pride of lions. “Look, the brief is all done!”
She held me towards her monitor, which indeed appeared to display a 25-page brief, complete with citations. I didn’t care; I just wanted out of this nightmare.
“I can see I made the right choice with you, little Tyler,” she thundered, pulling her skirt back over her legs. With her other hand she grabbed the glass bowl and turned to return it to the shelf. Then she leaned forward in her chair to place me on the floor next to the cabinet. She sat back up, leaving me to face her truck-sized feet and her merciless pumps.
Just don’t stand up, I thought. She had so thoroughly destroyed my self-image as an independent person that if I had to tilt my head back and take in all 120 subjective feet of her full height, I was sure I would faint. Why wouldn’t she then stomp on my helpless form? Looking at her formidable heels, I had no answer.
Instead, she leaned forward and looked down at me with a matter-of-fact expression. “I’ll need all the case law cited in the brief to prep for the hearing by the end of the day tomorrow,” she boomed. Smiling, she spoke another alien word: “Kahp-hasheena.”
Pain exploded in my chest, and my vision blurred into fog. Then the pain subsided to a dull ache, and I looked down to see my bare feet on the carpet, and they were as big as Olivia’s.
Olivia turned back to her desk, and it might have been a half-minute before I fully grasped that I had been restored to my normal size. I was also still naked.
I yanked open the cabinet and found my clothes where Olivia had put them. I hastily dressed, terrified that Zorah or someone else would walk in and find me in an indelicate position. After I had everything on and tied my shoes, I started towards the door.
“You will have that case law ready by tomorrow, right, Tyler?” Olivia’s voice couldn’t have been more innocent. I hesitated in my stride but didn’t turn to look at her.
“Uh, sure,” I said, then quickly opened the door and peered out of her office. Mercifully, no one was around to witness my shameful exit.
When I got back to my desk, I noted that 90 minutes had elapsed since the time I had been called up to Olivia’s office. I tried one last time to convince myself the entire encounter had been a dream, but I failed miserably. The sensations had been too vivid. I tried to push the memories away by throwing myself into my work, but I couldn’t escape the smell of Olivia’s pussy, which clung to my hands and chest and even in my hair. Could everyone smell this? I worried wretchedly. Worse, it was giving me a raging hard-on.
Finally, there was nothing for it but to slip out to the eleventh floor men’s room and take care of business. I hurried down the stairs and through the fire door and almost ran straight into Erin. She was wearing her three-inch heels, which put my eye-line right at her chin.
“Whoa,” she said, looking down at me with a grin. “Where’s the fire?”
In my pants, I thought miserably. “Sorry,” I said, looking up at her and trying to determine if she smelled anything. I tried to pretend I had an urgent errand as I strode off in the direction of the file room then took the detour to the single-occupancy restroom.
I bolted the door and fervently pulled out my cock and started jerking it. I still had plenty of lubrication from my time in Olivia’s crotch. I started, as I often do, imagining Yvonne on all fours, presenting me with her rosy rump. She looked over her shoulder at me and told me all the dirty things she wanted me to do to her.
In my mind’s eye I reached out to grab Yvonne’s ass, but she faded away and was replaced by Erin, who looked down with her soft brown eyes and began to slowly disrobe. With each item of clothing she removed, she seemed to grow taller. When she was at last completely nude, she was over twenty feet tall. She bent down and said in a voice that caused my guts to quiver, “You’re all mine now, little Tyler.”
I came so hard I sprayed the wall; I missed the toilet completely.