As they continued to lock eyes, Red was the first to look away.
He'd learned that locking eyes was a challenge to most things, and the last thing he wanted was another abuser. As he looked away, he saw his palm rubbing her own, and since day one of the Second Incursion, he knew that attachment was the key to failure. Call me a Jedi, he thought, slightly smiling at the prospect.
"Commander Art, Dispatch to Art," said a small radio look alike on her chest. She snatched it up, then answered.
"Commander Art to Dispatch. What is it?"
"Have you cleared sector 76-0-02? Have its inhabitants been retrieved?" Said a cold, harsh voice.
Right after Dispatch's question, Red looked up at Kate. She's come to retrieve me? He thought. Maybe I really do need to leave. She might take me to a torture camp, or worse: a plague chamber.
A plague chamber was a machine used to administer a special virus, from unknown origins. This virus caused horrible deaths, and once infected, it could not be stopped easily. Only one person had been cured after being infected purposefully. They betrayed the most feared gang in the United States, the GA Militia. Red had joined them shortly after the incursion. They were a gang who had killed 2 Galactic Troops with an ancient Sherman tank before being captured. What's, worse, Red thought, is that it was my own sister.
Red still remembered the day. A beautiful day, sun shining and birds singing in the trees. Their base was Chicago, or at least it's ruins. The Windy City, just rubble. His sister, California, had gone on business with a different gang, GTS Exterm. Their assistance could prove useful, and besides, she had said, they won't hurt another gang with the same purpose, would they? They all conceded.
They didn't know how much they'd regret the decision.
Four days later, a large Galactic Cruiser floated above Chicago. The headquarters of the GA Militia was top-secret; only a select few new it. Chicago was so different, even natives of the city who were blindfolded before the Incursion and un blindfolded to its ruins wouldn't recognize it. So, when the cruiser landed, everyone was speechless. Six Galactic Troops demounted the ship, and as soon as they walked past the barrier system, shots rang out from auto machine guns. Four tanks rolled out from behind a building. An ancient M4 Sherman Jumbo, and 3 smaller M4 tank variants. Red was in one of those variants, taking the position of Assistant Driver and Forwards sub-machine gunner.
Guns, he had learned, were near useless against these giantesses. More often than not, the bullets ricocheted of their skin, and shooting at one was treason of Martial Law. What was the point, he had thought, of shooting at one and being arrested and plagued, especially if it were in futility?
But the giantesses showed no mercy. Gangs would not be allowed to grow. They'd come to eradicate the GA Militia. But this gang would not go down easily. In less than ten seconds, two giantess troops were dead. The Sherman Jumbo was the executioner. The other smaller tanks shells could only hurt them as much as an eraser chunked at a person from within a few feet; sure, it hurt like hell. But no permanent damage was being done by the smaller tanks.
As soon as that was realized, the giantesses knew which tank to take down first. The other tanks had begun to retreat, including Red's. Through his lookout piece, he saw the Jumbo overwhelmed by troops from a nearby Galactic Outpost, which location was a secret. Then, his own tank began to rumble. When he popped his hatch open, attempting to make a break for it, a hand flew in and snatched him. It turned out to be Janet, his tormentor for the next two years.
Rather than take him to the Detroit base, she kept him because of his impeccable gentlemanliness, even though it took him almost six months before he could even talk to her. Her language was similar to English, but it was not easy to understand. Now, he was nearing fluency.
She also kept him because of his astounding looks. Eyes so light brown, they almost seemed to be a fiery orange. Perfect white teeth, thick brown hair, and a nice 5'10" stature. Though his muscles were nothing to brag about, he could carry his fair share of a burden. Never once did he call her by her name. Instead, he called her madam, which was forcibly changed to goddess. A perfect specimen, she'd thought, to use as a toy.
At first, she was gentle. Benevolent. But one day, she came back seething. She said she'd been demoted for some "piece of crap" who couldn't even beat her at size or stature. When she spit out her name, Red felt like crumbling down. California, he had thought, California. What have you done, he screamed in his thoughts. From that day on, he declared she'd never be his sister again. When Janet noticed his despair, she realized was her chance to break him was imminent. She knew he was strong mentally, and a smart man was never a good man, according to her world's customs and traditions.
The next day, she was transferred to the Dallas base, as there was a lack of concentration of troops located there because of the huge area they covered.
She took him out on patrol with her on her first day. She decided her breast pocket would be the best place for that moment. Good proximity to myself, she had thought.
When she was on patrol, she found the crumbling AT&T stadium. Since no one lived within a good 15 miles, she decided that this would be her chance to break him. She slowly undressed, feet first to head. She placed him on a fading blue star in the middle of the field. She took her pants then shirt off, revealing a white lace bra, and matching panties. Still in shock, he forgot to call her goddess. But she didn't care. He would be broken soon enough anyways. He came out completely scarred that day. His left arm dislocated, his fibula fractured. To this day, he walked with a limp, though not as restraining as before. And, since that day, he could not speak.
Eventually, they were discovered. She was forced to give him up, where they gave him a worn down house in exchange he let the members of the 201st Company do as they please each night they wanted, besides maiming or killing him. Better a man alive that's useful than a man who's just another body to burn, they had said.
And use him they did. Every so often, they'd arrive. They'd rape him in ways previously unknown to man. Janet, though, was the worst. Once, she left him in her mouth overnight. The next night, in her panties: ass first then her womanhood.
He had scars all over. On his face, he had a fading one, over his right eye. Down his left arm, a scar that had just scarred over. Both were caused by Janet's sudden rages, either from her nails as she plunged him deep inside her, claiming she could keep him safe from harm. Physically, perhaps, but with each ground-shattering orgasm she had, the more she shattered his mind. Others were caused by the day she held him in her mouth; her teeth would scratch him badly.
But he got through it all.
Giantess World
Chapter End Notes:
Quite a doozy, this one. But it was necessary. Tied up some loose ends. Constructive Criticism is always appreciated!