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Author's Chapter Notes:

COLLAB TIME, WOO!
Because occasionally Silent and I have simply wonderful ideas. This little story has nothing to do with our other projects; it's just fun to write.
Similar to PKCR, we'll be alternating chapters following this one. Meaning, we both wrote this, then I'll write Chapter Two, and she'll do Chapter Three.

Rock on and enjoy.
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"Get to work!" The minuscule woman barked through her megaphone. Isabelle Strauss, for as rowdy and ornery as she was when doing it, loved being a corrections officer. Part of her job meant overseeing people tasked to community service, and it was a rush for the short woman to feel bigger than everyone around her.

 

Especially when the person she could feel bigger than was a titaness.

 

This "Ally" had stumbled and destroyed quite a few homes (luckily Isabelle's own wasn't among them) so she was putting together the house frames to start undoing the destruction.

 

But, when Isabelle saw her chance to mess with a massive woman that had ogled her . . . she took it. At the size of a small doll compared to Ally, Isabelle herself found it very easy to arch her back against a wall, or bend down to pick something up, just long enough for the larger woman to get distracted, but quickly enough for the 68-foot woman to not be suspicious.

 

"If you break another frame, I swear you're gonna have to stay here another day!" Isabelle loudly intoned.

 

Allison Verbantzski was not having a good week. She already had it rough, being invariably larger than 99.9% of the rest of her species. Like the other titans of the world, Ally consumed vast resources and didn't give back much; in fact, just here, she'd done thousands of dollars in damage by tripping. Unlike some of the other titans, Ally wasn't interested in taking advantage of humans by acting as a deity. Indeed, she was more interested in trying to be normal.

 

This very rarely worked.

 

To make matters worse, Ally had a very specific set of fetishes - dominant people, cutthroat businesswomen, and severe punishment. Nothing got her going as much as playing the sub did - but, when you're nearly seventy feet tall, and you happen to be a screamer, it's hard enough to get yourself off, much less someone else.

 

Worse yet, the corrections officer ordering around Ally fit the first two fetishes perfectly, and it didn't take much imagination on her part to think the tiny woman could easily inflict the third. If only she were smaller.

 

"S-sorry, Ms. Strauss!" Ally whimpered, delicately placed the frame on its foundation, with all the care she could muster. Again, her massive ice blue eyes drifted to the pencil skirt and smooth nylons the tiny woman wore - she could swear, she was doing it on purpose. The thought did nothing to dissuade the titaness' omnipresent sexual frustration.

 

Isabelle had taken precautions to ensure her own safety, of course- mostly of the kind that put her on scaffolding, so that the massive woman couldn't just slide over and sit on her to shut her up and claim an accident. Now, at least, "Ally" would be getting herself thrown in prison if she decided that Isabelle was being too rough on her.

 

So, standing at roughly Ally's crotch height were she standing (as it was, given the titaness's stooped position on her knees, she had to look up at Isabelle, who had ensured that her skirt was juuuust long enough so the building-sized lesbian couldn't see up it to the racy lingerie underneath unless she was deliberately trying), the 5'3" brunette made a point to push the larger woman's buttons.

 

"Miss Verbantzski," she drawled through her megaphone (last week, the titaness had assured her she didn't need it, and in fact it hurt her ears given her proximity, but Isabelle could never be too sure), "given the many violations of the terms of your court mandate- like your pockets currently being full, despite the fact that if the fabric rips, anything falling from that height could kill a passerby- I'm going to have to mark you up for another six hours. As it is, that one is finished. Start putting the next one together. The last delivery of wood on site was fifteen minutes ago."

 

Isabelle, enjoying herself a bit much, decided to intentionally sway her hips as she walked along to the other, non-gigantic people on court mandates. From her position, she called down, "And you! At least this one has an excuse for why she's so slow! There are ten of you painting houses, and only one of her building them! Why are you *slacking*?"

 

Ally whimpered, trying to make it sound as much like apologetic bashfulness, rather than sexual frustration, as much as possible. She was well aware that Isabelle would crunch nicely under her foot - another titaness, Natasha, had once confided in her that she'd stepped on a man that raped her human-sized friend, and the sensation was nearly orgasmic - but the fact that the tiny brunette held her authoritative and personal power over Ally rocked the blonde to her core. She sniffed a bit, made sure her ponytail kept locks of hair heavy enough to undo her work out of the way, and nodded. "Y-yes, Ms. Strauss. I'm sorry," She apologized again, looking down. As the brunette sauntered away, Ally's eyes locked onto her swaying hips, and her knuckles turned white as she squeezed the hem of her shirt tightly. Those. Fucking. Hips.

 

Ally knew why the others were slacking - much to Ally's chagrin, men found her positively irresistible, and the only women she seemed to attract were submissives wanting to be a girl's literal doll. The jeans that were custom made for her clung to her legs, which would have been long if she were 5 feet tall, much less 68. She'd be told more than once that her ass was legendary, and that she had a weird cult following online. Of course, the men delivering this news then asked to see it, or worse, to be sat on by it. Her thoughts drifted off to, "What would Natasha do in such a situation?" She giggled as the scenario played out in her head. She'd never do it for real, but she allowed herself the fantasy.

 

Isabelle watched her titanic charge start daydreaming, and sighed. "This is what I get for messing with her," she muttered to herself, "now she won't be productive for the rest of the day." Suddenly, seeing a massive blonde ponytail in her face gave her an idea.

 

Stepping carefully off the scaffolding, Isabelle grabbed onto the ropes of Ally's hair and climbed to her shoulder. Keeping one hand firmly on the thick gold cords, she clicked her megaphone off so it wouldn't turn on unintentionally.

 

"I believe you were told to get to work," she said, harshly but sensually, "unless you'd prefer being put in delicacy training."

 

Delicacy training was universally hated, by normal-sized people and titans alike, unless they were seriously depraved or kinky. It mostly involved a criminal or bigoted titan being made to gently interact with an equally criminal or bigoted regular person. If either one spoke up once, they got an extra day, and while neither one was allowed to attempt to harm one another, you generally had people punching titans in the eye, or titans breaking people's arms, not ten minutes into the session.

 

Isabelle herself sometimes volunteered to go through delicacy training, if only because she had a retractable cattle prod strong enough to feel like a cigarette burn to even the biggest titans, which she never failed in using. Given her status as an officer of the peace, she wasn't even supervised.

 

"D-Delicacy...? Nno, Miss, I'll be good," Ally said, nearly quaking from the arousal and the effort of not saying "Mistress" instead. With Isabelle perched on her shoulder, Ally felt the gentlest of tugging on her hair, and it made the titaness' hands tremble. She put together the frame, biting her lip hard as she imagined Isabelle, their sizes reversed, being just as depraved as Natasha was. Truth be told, delicacy training with Isabelle sounded like a glorious way to properly submit to the woman, even if she had to stifle her sexuality...

 

Ally looked down at the frame she ever-so-gently pieced together. She gripped another beam and hesitated for the briefest of moments. Could she do it? Yes, it would get her in the trouble she wanted to be in, but this cost money, it cost time...breaking it intentionally was wrong. She brushed the sawdust aside, and then grimaced.

 

Oh, no. The thought rang in her head just as her stomach plummeted. With a rush of air and a tremendous noise, Ally sneezed, hard. Her hands instantly went to catch Isabelle, but the momentum of her movement, in rhythm with the sheer mass of her form, caused the frame she was working on to tumble into bits, as broken and ruined as those she'd fallen on.

 

Her heart pounding in her chest, Ally slowly opened her hands to make sure she hadn't committed manslaughter by sneezing.

 

Isabelle was disgusted, in shock, and all kinds of terrified. 

 

The fear came mostly from the fact that she had almost died, and it had been her own stupid fault- given all the dust and paint, it was frankly surprising that Allison hadn't been sneezing already. 

 

The disgust came from a nearly full-body smattering of the 68-foot blonde's spittle from her sneeze.

 

The shock, though, came from the fact that the massive woman had gone out of her way to save Isabelle's life, at the cost of utterly ruining one of the home frames she'd been made to construct. Had the huge woman simply let her fall, she could have claimed accidental damages and gotten off with an extra day of community service or two, maybe delicacy training if the city pressed for it.

 

Blue eyes met gray, both wide. "You . . . you just . . ." Isabelle was at a loss for words.

 

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, oh my God..." Ally whimpered, lowering Isabelle to the ground. She looked around, picking up an entire box of paper towel rolls and setting it next to the disgraced businesswoman. Hanging her head apologetically, she sniffled. "I break things just by sneezing, what the hell..." She shuddered and awaited punishment, her eyes teary.

 

"You saved my life," Isabelle breathed, elated. "What are you apologizing for, you saved my life!" She gleefully wiped herself down. Suddenly, she stopped, and walked back up the scaffolding to Allison's head height. "That was . . . unprofessional of me. In any case, you should finish your work. We'll . . . talk afterward."

 

Isabelle was incredibly embarrassed, now that the immediate rush of having survived was gone. She had something stuck to her skirt she was pretty sure was a piece of hyper-enlarged lettuce (grown specifically for titans and foodies, because most people would rather not eat a leaf bigger than them). She had acted like such an idiot in front of people she was supposed to be supervising, and she had to maintain control. But she couldn't yell over the workers' laughter without her megaphone, which was currently tangled in Allison's hair.

 

Out of spite, she put them all down for an extra four hours, before looking at her watch and sighing. The next two hours were going to drag on.

 

Ally blushed hard, her fear and concern replaced by libido and embarrassment. With the other workers gawking at her, laughing at Isabelle, and continuing their work, she kept her red-faced worry but allowed herself a much more relaxed method of putting together the frames. The rest of her shift drolled on, but it had gone smoothly from there, prompting Ally to stick behind to wait for Isabelle.

 

With a rather annoyed grimace, she pulled a tiny megaphone from her golden locks, and stifled a laugh.

 

Isabelle hadn't left her scaffolding the rest of her shift, and she looked a lot less confident. "I mean to . . . apologize for the way I've been acting, Ms. Verbantzski. I've been on quite the power trip since I was told that I'd be supervising a titan, and it took today's incident to bring me down. If you'd prefer it, it would only take one phone call for me to put another officer in charge of this site," the gray-eyed brunette sighed. "I do not extend this opportunity to just anyone, but I believe that with how I've been to you it would only be fair."

 

She noticed the megaphone in Ally's fingers, and her eyes went wide. "Either way, I think I'll need that back."

 

Over the course of the day, the piece of lettuce had come unstuck from Isabelle's skirt, and Allison could see she had torn it into a visor with how stupidly bright the sun had been today.

 

Ally tried not to blush, but it was clearly inevitable. "I...thank you, Ms. Strauss, but...I really am not too concerned about your supervision of me," She said, idly playing with her long hair. "I...," She chuckles to herself and looks down, massive fingers playing with one another. "You know, another titan wouldn't take all that. Delicacy training or no, you'd be...hurt," She mused. Upon considering the admitting of a power trip, though, Ally began to suspect. "Can you be honest with me, for a minute? Were you deliberately teasing me?"

 

Isabelle nodded. "Yes, I have. You made it too easy, what with staring down my shirt when we met," the brunette admitted. "So, yes, I have been messing with you. Personally, I am of the opinion that, were I your size or you mine, you'd be too busy recovering from a session with me to get into any trouble, but with our current sizes, plus the fact that I'd be fired if word got out that I was fucking someone I was supposed to be supervising, I settle for teasing you."

 

The brunette smirked. "And if our sizes were reversed, you would never leave my person." She leaned back against the wall. "I'm very much the dominant type, and so I admit . . . I've had an errant thought or two of hopefully becoming a titan, somehow. You've probably lived a dozen of my daydreams."

 

Ally could not be more red. The shy titaness' thoughts ran rampant, her body warm with the idea of Isabelle above her, hurting her, forcing her to please, to do unspeakable things... "I'm, uh, I'm," She tried to formulate a sentence. "I've never been, really...dominant...with my size, as other titans have been," She recalled hearing stories of fetish cities, and of hedonistic titans indulging in depraved kinks, but was far too shy and cautious to seek one out. "You...you're not daunted, by how big I am? Most girls want me to own them...one wanted me to eat her, on the third date," She laughed nervously, Isabelle's cool demeanor making her bite her lip, hard.

 

Isabelle laughed. "Nah. You're hot, just . . . let's just say if I had been in your place, with a small girl in my hand ready to be eaten, I would've indulged her and let her figure out the consequences when she's starting to feel my stomach acids," she said with an aroused sigh. "Damn it all, now you've got me going," she grunted in frustration, starting to make her way down the scaffolding. "I hope you're happy," she said as she made her way down the thin stairs, "because now I'm gonna be masturbating when I get home."

 

She sighed as she walked down. "In another life, you'd be my tiny corrections officer, and I'd be a titaness in for causing trouble, and we'd go home together with you helpless in my underwear. As it is . . . how can *I* really dominate *you*, when I'm like five inches tall compared to you?"

 

Ally paused for a minute, wondering if she dared to proceed with the thought she was thinking of. Gulping, she bit her lip hard. "You could...give me orders..." Ally murmured quietly. "Because God, you are really hot, too..."

 

Isabelle stopped, her car keys in hand, at a rather low level of the scaffolding. Had Ally been wearing a skirt instead of jeans, the short brunette would be looking at her crotch right now. "What?" Isabelle asked, unsure she had heard the titaness correctly. "Give you orders? Like, you dress in a bra and harem pants, and be my big, sexy genie, granting my sexual wishes?" She laughed, but she liked the idea. "Ooh, tempting. Tempting. But, there's still my job to think of. Can I count on you not to tell anyone anything about this?" The gray-eyed woman stared up at Ally, highly serious. "You're hot as fuck, but I'm not sure yet that you're worth me losing my job for."

 

Ally bit her lip, a real, tangible thing that showed her very attraction to the idea blatantly to her proposed Mistress. "I promise to uphold your secrecy," She said, leaning forward and arching to show off her round, massive assets.

 

Isabelle grinned. "Alright, then, my lovely li- er, I mean, *big* lady. Do you live in the state-funded apartments, or are you an independent titaness that doesn't need government help?" Isabelle jingled her keys. "I kinda need to know where I'm driving, since the last time I went for a ride I kinda almost died." She joked, but if one paid attention it was noticeable that she was still a little shaken. "So, I'm gonna need your home address, and I'll be by in an hour. There's a few things I'll need to indulge a masochistic titan."

 

Ally laughed, looking embarrassed again. "I tried to live alone after I grew and my parents couldn't look after me, buuut...nah. I live in the apartments, yeah. Outside the city. You can't miss them," She said with a laugh. "Seriously."

 

Inside, the titanic blonde trembled with both lust and nervousness. Would the gorgeous tiny brunette like her? She bites her lip hard, imagination going crazy.

 

Isabelle parked her car in the subterranean system set up so that titans could have tiny visitors, and made sure she had everything. She had changed into another suit, this one bearing a slightly shorter skirt, and accentuated her nylon-covered legs with a set of heels she had bought back when she had time to party regularly. She checked her purse just in case she had forgotten anything at home, then walked up to Ally's massive door. Pressing the buzzer, she brought her face a bit closer to the camera than it needed to be. 

 

"Ms. Verbantzski," she called, realizing she wasn't sure what "Ally" was short for. "I'm here, and if you don't let me in through the service door in the next five minutes we're starting on a punishment."

 

Each of these apartments came with two entrances: a giant-sized door, for the intended tenants, and a service door that opened in the area most titans immediately made into a kitchen or home theater, due to most of the apartment's electrical outlets also being clustered there. Unfortunately, this discouraged visitation by regular people, as their entry was often blocked by a huge fridge or television. This was what Isabelle was counting on.

 

With a grunt, a sudden burst of noise from the other end, and a rather loud grinding sound, Ally moved the television aside and opened up the service entrance, only three minutes after Isabelle demanded her to do so. The gigantic blonde wore her tight jeans, her mammoth feet bare and exposed, and a simple white tank top that barely hid her pendulous breasts. She crouched down to greet her newfound mistress, face flustered, her ice-blues wide with nervousness and excitement.



"H-Hello, Ms. Strauss," Ally whimpered. "A-Alison is fine, you...you don't have to use my last name, it's a mouthful," She continued, smiling in a grin that filled Isabelle's horizon. The titaness' apartment was absolutely gigantic, built on an insane scale by the titans themselves. Everything looked as Isabelle had encountered in her own world, but blown up to proportion. Ally didn't know what to do with her bulk, so she settled on sitting cross-legged on the floor, and creating a makeshift podium for Isabelle by turning a waste basket over and providing the tiny woman with stepping stones in the form of stacked drink coasters.

 

Isabelle blinked for a moment. She had had her hand in her purse, ready to begin making the gigantic girl scream from moment one, but this worked. "Alright, Allison," she said, making her way up each of the coasters, one at a time with great care- she knew from experience how these things tended to slide at normal scale, and didn't want to embarrass herself twice in the same day.

 

"Now, before we begin, I'm aware you're submissive," Isabelle said quickly, her businesslike demeanor put in gear, "so you will be using my last name often, but in any moments where we're neither working or fucking you can feel free to call me Isabelle." The brunette smirked, giving a light pause before she continued.

 

"Secondly," she said, standing near the edge of the wastebasket to get a good look at Ally's practically exposed breasts, "I need to know if you're actually a masochist. I'd rather not hurt you if you're not into that. Yes, I'd be a little disappointed that I can't use a couple of the things I brought, but I want us both to be happy at the end of this, and if stopping myself at humiliating you is what would make you happy I'll do it. I've never dated a titan before, so I really want to see if everything's the same physically," she commented with a lewd grin.

 

"Lastly," she said, offhandedly removing what looked like a sticker sheet with a notepad stapled to it from her purse, "I got this. This'll indicate our "not okay" zones, and our respective kinks. I already have a short list of things I *really* wanna do with you, and if there's anything you're into that's not already on my list, I'll write that down, too. We can each veto each other's stuff, et cetera, et cetera. For example, while I'd like to feel your big tongue between my legs, I never want my head or arms in your mouth. It's a safety thing."

 

She finished, taking a deep breath. "So. I'll take a list of the things you want first, seeing as I owe you one. So, while I'm still gonna dominate you, you can choose how I do it. Fair?"

 

Ally blushed; not only was this woman unflinchingly charismatic, she was interested in her, didn't care that she was a titan, and was concerned for her well-being, when she knew for a fact that if the gigantic goldette wanted to, she could destroy her in a moment. Swallowing hard, Allison glanced down at her lover-to-be, and trembled. "W-Well, I...I don't like things in my ass, much," She said quietly. "Though I guess it could be...humiliatory...it's not my favorite thing. I really, really," She let out a near moan, and covered her mouth. "Really. Like to be told what to do. I like role play. I'd never hurt a person...but fantasizing about it is kinda hot," She continued. "And, uh. Yes. I am a masochist." She rolled up her sleeves to reveal self-inflicted chain marks, obviously left over from self-bondage play. "Quite a bit of one, if I'm being perfectly honest."



Ally repositioned herself, suddenly aware of how exposed she was. "And...I love to play dress-up. What about you, my Mistress," She finally said it, allowing the word to slip over her teeth and out her mouth as sensually as she could make it happen. "What are you into, and not into?"

 

Isabelle grinned. "Calling me your Mistress already? My, aren't you presumptuous," she let out a chuckle. 

 

"Well," she said, smiling all the while, "Yes, I am a sadist. However, most of what I have isn't tough enough to hurt you. I brought some specialized stuff, just in case, the stuff we use when we have to restrain titans. I have some legit Titan Arrest Gear with me, as well as some stuff for people my size that has settings high enough to start causing pain. Also," she admitted sheepishly, "I carry a retractable electrical prod with me, from when I get it in me to be a bitch to titans in delicacy training."

 

She continued quickly, deciding not to allow that to hang on the air for Ally to ask questions at all. "Alright, truth be told, I do roleplay as well. In fact, even though real titans exist, some people are fine watching fetish porn made by a girl like me pretending to be big." Bashfully, she added, "I run an ask blog. Titanic Goddess Eos. So if you happen to have enough money for VR, I'd sign us up in a heartbeat. As it is, I can't afford a ticket for myself." It was still expensive as hell, but the neural mapping systems that had been used by the Air Force to prepare soldiers for just about anything became available to the public recently, collectively known as VR. Notably, a literal land titan used it to pretend to be small, ostensibly to keep himself humble.

 

She continued, "Also, while I don't think we'd really be able to do it together, due to . . . the obvious . . . I like smothering. I like cutting off a girl's air, using my foot, my ass, my breasts, with a pillow . . . I like the feeling that my bitches can't even *breathe* without my say-so. I love being in charge, and get off on every bit of power I have. If I ever get into a real position of power, like chief of police or something, I'd probably be constantly horny."

 

As she had been speaking, she took down notes of what Ally had told her. "So, Allison, you tell me: what am I doing to you for our first time together?"

 

Alison gripped the fabric of her shirt, her eyes wide, and she bit her lip extremely hard. "Give me a role. Hurt me. T-Tell me...tell me what to do, beautiful Ms. Strauss..." She struggled to find the right words, her ice blues pouring lust and emotion out for Isabelle to see with perfect clarity. "Oh god, I can't pick..." The idea of swapping sizes in VR was all Allison could think of. She smiled sheepishly and ran a hand through her golden hair. "I have some toys...from your usual gigantic vibrator, to...uh...chains," She said.

 

Isabelle thought it over for a solid while. Talking about her fetishes had only made her start thinking about them, which started getting her turned on. Noticing a specific movie sitting on Ally's shelf, she had an idea. "A little scene from Gulliver's Travels, if you will. Tie yourself down. You are a pompous, self-centered explorer who crossed the sea to find gold. But, you got caught in a snare by the locals, and unlike Gulliver, you're too arrogant to acclimate to your situation and you keep pressing your luck. I will be the fisher that caught you, and the angrier I get the more I take your own tools to humiliate you with. Leave out any toys that I might be able to carry. Button-up shirt, skirt, no underwear. Unbutton as many buttons as you're comfortable with. I'll wait outside your bedroom door. Oh, and if you have a costume that fits me and the situation, I'll wear it."

 

She looked down at her watch, and smirked. "It's 4:41 now. You have until 5:00 until I . . . check my nets. Go," she purred.

Chapter End Notes:

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