A putrid taste of dried seawater was the very first thing Penelope noticed when she woke up. It was as if she had dunked her head into a barrel of rotting fish outside of a particularly disgusting pub with her mouth wide open. The fact that her tongue was smothered with sand only served to make her mouth very dry, so she could not wash out the taste with salivation.
The next thing the young Englishwoman noted was how much pain she was in. Her entire body ached, and any attempts to get up only sent spasms throughout her muscular system.
Penelope felt like passing out once more on the shore, and very well might have if not for a rather large wave sweeping over her, spraying her with salt water. While it was unpleasant, the warm water washing over her face was enough to rouse her. Groaning as she powered through her aching body, Penelope managed to raise herself so she was on her knees.
Taking a deep breath, she looked around her.
Indeed, she had washed ashore from the shipwreck on some form of tropical coast. The tree line comprised of vibrant green palm trees and other fauna began in front of her, perhaps sixty or seventy meters. The jungle was densely packed with vegetation, which meant two things. One, there was a reliable source of fresh water nearby. Two, this was no tiny island in the middle of nowhere to house plants of that magnitude.
Looking to her left, she noted that the beach continued for what appeared to be miles. She briefly entertained the idea of walking that way, but a sudden noise caused her to turn her attention to her right. She was ever grateful this happened, as she saw the source of the noise.
To the right, a hundred meters or so along the beach were several men. The other survivors of the shipwreck. From the looks of it, they were also getting their bearings on this strange new patch of land. Standing on wobbly legs, Penelope began to walk towards the group.
Her progress was impeded somewhat from her choice in attire; consisting of a dress and corset. Whilst this was very atypical clothing for an Englishwoman, it was extremely impractical considering the circumstances. The dress was soaked thoroughly with water, and sand that had gathered on the fabric itched her skin incessantly. The dampness caused the dress to cling to her skin, irritating it.
Her corset was in slightly better shape because of the sturdier material it was made of. She made a mental note to find some dry clothes that would enable her to walk more freely when she had the chance.
As Penelope approached the group of survivors, she heard them speaking. Many were thankful to have survived the storm, and went about making the best of the situation. Not all were as optimistic however, and cursed their misfortune to have been stranded on a land so far from home with no help for hundreds of miles.
Few men took note of her, but one or two did steal a glance at her slender bodice, which was revealed by the wetness of her clothes. Self-consciously, Penelope folded her arms over her bosom, shooting a disapproving glare at a member of the crew who thought it funny to whistle at her.
Standing a little farther up the beach, facing the jungle stood a man clad in a red coat, with a black tricorn hat adorned with a feather. His hair was greasy and thin, tied into a simple pony tail behind his head.
He stood a good head over the rest of the crew, including her. However despite his height he was lean, almost gangly. His clothes did aide in making him appear to have some width, but his shallow cheeks and gaunt eyes betrayed a man who didn't eat enough.
"Captain Smith." Penelope said, her voice hoarse. She coughed up a bit of sand, realizing how dry her mouth really was.
The captain of the ruined vessel ignored her. He intently stared into the jungle, his hands folded behind his back. Penelope decided to avoid another confrontation with the captain. Back on his ship, he had made it abundantly clear he disapproved of allowing a 'mere woman' on his vessel.
Penelope, like most women back home were used to this attitude. Men in both the aristocracy and amongst the impoverished looked on them as little more than dogs. Some considered them less than that even. However, that was back home, when should she tire of discrimination she could retreat into her home, where she could speak with other women or more progressive men. But on Captain Smith's ship, that was impossible due to the fact that the ship didn't allow for anything other than close proximity to each other at all times. That meant Penelope had to endure his constant ire.
At a guess, he probably blamed her for dooming his ship to crash. It was bad luck to have a woman aboard he had told her. Penelope's lips creased into a smile at a the thought that she may have indeed cursed Captain Smith's most prized possession; his ship. Utter nonsense and superstition, yet the thought still gave her a modicum of pleasure.
Looking around her for a place to sit, she found a crate that the men had managed to drag ashore. She sat on it, and began the slow process of removing her dress from its hem, creating a makeshift skirt.
Captain Smith had been a Captain in the Royal Navy for almost thirty years. In that time he had brought honor to both himself, and to the King with unquestionable loyalty, and determination. He was a man of valor, a man whose sole purpose in life was to spread the glory of the British Empire to every nook and cranny of the world.
In those thirty years however, never had Captain Smith brought a woman with him. He was no fool, he knew bringing a woman aboard was a curse. He had fought adamantly to have her stay back in England, in a house serving her husband. Of course, his pompous superiors and rival captains overrode him. They wished to see the great Captain Smith disappear, lost forever.
Well he would not have it. He would not allow a meager, pathetic woman to hold him or his crew back. He would survive this island, and then he would conquer it in the name of the king.
Looking behind him, he ignored the woman, who was ripping off parts of her dress. Instead he looked at his crew, which had taken to looking at her reveal the flesh of her legs. He spoke in a commanding, baritone voice.
"Lads!" He bellowed, to the two dozen or so men who awaited his orders. "We make for higher ground, to get our bearings on this place."
The crew shook their heads, and murmured in debate. Some agreed with him, simply because he was the captain. Others agreed because they thought finding high ground to be the wisest course of action. However, a few, the woman included disagreed.
To Captain Smith's disgust, the woman decided to voice her ignorant views on the matter. As if it mattered what she thought.
"If I may, remaining on the beach for the time being seems to be the wiser option." She piped up. "We have precious few supplies. Is it not smarter to remain here, retrieve what we can for the wreckage and treat the wounded before we begin heading to some mountain somewhere?"
The crew murmured amongst themselves. Some of the older veterans were not exactly happy to admit it, but they agreed with the woman. Several of the crew were injured, and the rest very tired. As Penelope had said, they had very little in the form of supplies. It seemed the wiser course of action would be to establish a camp here, temporarily before setting off. After all, who knew who else was yet to wash ashore?
Captain Smith spat.
"I was issuing an order to my crew. Not asking for your bloody opinion." Captain Smith affirmed. Penelope rolled her eyes, and returned to fixing her clothes. "Unless you'd like to stay here all by yourself?"
Penelope glared daggers at Captain Smith. She did not doubt for a second that he would be perfectly willing to abandon her alone on the beach, where all by her lonesome she would undoubtedly die. Of course, any member of the crew would suffer the same fate alone. Not that this made any difference to Captain Smith, who indicated for the crew to gather what gunpowder and weapons they could.
Penelope sighed, and simply followed the group as they entered the jungle, deciding she had little choice but to stick with them. Just before they past the threshold of the tree line, Penelope looked behind her, admiring the beautiful vista that was the sea.
She wondered what kind of exotic animals she could study if given the opportunity. At the very least, this foolish voyage would give her the chance to document more wildlife. Perhaps, if she was lucky she might uncover a new species of animal or plant. Hopefully it would be something big. People were always impressed by bigger species than they were of tiny ones.
The denseness of the jungle began to take its toll on the large group after an hour or so of walking. The sailors who had been wounded during the wreck were working on fumes. Blisters were quick to form on their feet, and flesh consuming insects fell upon them without mercy.
Penelope suggested they apply mud to their skin to ward off the insects. A few men, desperate to be rid of the itching did as she said. To their surprise, the mosquitoes stopped their assault. More of the group would have followed suit had Captain Smith not ordered that no more mud was to be used, as he thought it would spread disease.
A big man, with broad shoulders and a bald head strode next to Penelope, who was struggling along. He spoke with a deep, raspy voice with an unusual accent. He carried a blunderbuss, which he had salvaged from the wreck.
"The Captain does not like you." He said. He spoke simply, and from his vernacular Penelope imagined English was not his first language.
"I'm not looking for any trouble, sir." She said, not wanting to make enemies of men who she doubted she could trust. To her surprise, he shook his head.
"I think you are very smart." He affirmed. "More smarter than Captain Smith."
"I-I thank you, sir." Penelope said. It was the first time someone had ever called her 'smart'. That is, without the phrase 'for a woman' following suit.
The two walked in silence for a short period of time, before she asked him a question.
"If I may ask, what is your name?" She asked her new friend.
"My name is Otto." He said. "I am from Prussia."
Penelope nodded. She knew he must have been some kind of mainland European, and that accent certainly was neither French nor Spanish.
"What brought you to England as a sailor?" Penelope asked.
"I leave Prussia because I marry Englishwoman." Otto said, his voice dripped with sadness. "Now I live in England, work as sailor for Captain Smith." He ran his hand over a locket around his neck. "I want to see her again. I want to go home."
Penelope bit her lip. She did not have the heart to tell Otto that with the way Captain Smith was leading the crew, his odds of seeing his wife once more were greatly diminished. However, something told her that he was very much aware of this. Every step he took was forced, he wanted to go back to the beach and try signaling a ship.
"Why you here?" Otto asked. "You are not sailor."
Penelope shook her head with a little smile.
"No, I am not. I am trying..." Penelope trailed off. "I am trying to prove something to someone who doubted me."
Otto said nothing, but the look in his eye informed her that he understood what she meant. Furthermore he would not pry into her personal affairs. Penelope felt some weight fall off of her shoulders, now that she had made friends with at least one person in the crew. If nothing else, that was something that had gone well on this voyage. Now if only-
The crowd of sailors making their way up a path leading to a large mountain on the island all stopped in confusion when they felt a tremor in the ground. At first, only a few felt it. Those who were tired and just wanted to press on so they could take a break did not even notice anything. After a few moments, Captain Smith demanded the group move forward once more.
The sailors and Penelope had taken less than four more steps before another, much stronger tremor shook the earth and tress. This time, there was no denying it from anybody.
"What is that?" Some asked, in a whisper. The whole group was silent as a graveyard however, so his meager voice was heard by the whole party. The tremors got louder and louder, and more frequent over time. Slowly, the trees began to shake from a set of trees to the group's left.
They swayed back and forth, but their thickness and proximity to each other shielded whatever was making the sound from view. However, Captain Smith now had a general idea of where to direct his men. He called out for anybody with a firearm to aim towards the rustling trees.
Only four men were able to do so, Otto included with his blunderbuss. Captain Smith took aim with his finely crafted flintlock pistol. The rest drew cutlasses and dirks, their only form of protection from whatever was coming. Penelope was completely unarmed, so she got behind Otto, who willingly shielded her with his much larger body.
The tremors, Penelope noted, were rhythmic. Like footsteps. Impossible, no animal she had ever studied was large enough to make such tremors with its mere walking. Maybe some breed of elephant she had never seen before? If so, she vowed to name it after herself. Assuming Captain Smith did not kill it before she could study it.
Suddenly, a silence fell over the jungle. The birds stopped chirping, the frogs stopped ribbiting and the insects stopped buzzing and biting. This horrified the men, who silently prayed to whatever gods they believed in.
After almost thirty seconds of tension, Captain Smith broke the silence.
"Twas nothing. Let us-" Before the captain could finish his sentence, all hell broke loose.
From the trees emerged a massive figure. Its sudden appearance and lightning fast movements were enough to baffle the sailors for several moments. Only Penelope and Captain Smith were able to comprehend what they were seeing.
Contrary to the colossal pachyderm Penelope had envisioned to be the source of the noise, a woman stepped into view. Unlike Penelope however, who was a little over five feet and six inches, this woman stood at well over a hundred feet. The trees no longer obscured her, and Penelope could see her perfectly now.
Despite her massive size, the woman appeared to be very much human.
Her skin was a light tan, complementing her jet-black hair, which was in a rather primitive braid. Her entire outfit spoke of a primitive, actually. What appeared to be the skins of several animals were wrapped around her proportionately large breasts, and a loincloth made of the same materials covered her neither regions.
Unlike any women Penelope or the men had ever seen in their lives, she was rather muscular. Not to the point of losing any femininity, as she had curves that would have been the envy of any noblewoman in all of Europe. Her eyes were large and hazel, which stared curiously at the sailors.
Overall, she was incredibly beautiful. However, her size made her appear more monstrous to the sailors.
A silence hung over the two groups for several shocked moments, before the earsplitting blast of a gun being fired erupted into the air. This startled the sailors, who realized that one of the few-armed men had shot, out of either fear or incompetence. This also frightened the giantess, who covered her ears. Clearly, she had never heard such a thing before. The bullet itself had missed her, considering its user may or not have been attempting to shoot.
Her sudden movement spurred Captain Smith into action, and he made a decision on what must be done.
"Charge lads! Kill it!" The captain hollered. With a cry, he charged the giantess. It took a few moments for anybody to follow, but eventually, the loyalty that had been drilled into the crew kicked in, and they charged at the woman.
Otto turned to Penelope, his voice and face full of fear.
"Stay behind me!" He ordered, leading Penelope away. Rather than charge with the other sailors, Otto lead her up the path, shoving his way through the men.
Between the shouts and cries from the sailors, Penelope was amazed she could maintain her balance. Otto dragged her along, trying to get around the men, who were in the midst of the worst mistake of their lives.
The giantess for her part seemed scared at first of the strange creatures, until she got over the fact that she had never seen them before. Realizing they posed a threat to her and were actively attacking, she responded in kind with such ferocity even Captain Smith quivered in his trousers.
With a mighty, guttural roar that struck fear into the hearts of every single one of her assailants, the giantess attacked. Raising a single barefoot into the air, she brought it down on a trio of men wielding swords. The last thing any of them saw before they were turned into paste was the sole of her right foot blocking out the sky. Her skin proved dense enough to ward off their blunted weapons.
The impact of her foot with the earth was enough to create a small crater, and knocked most of the attackers off balance. The others with guns ended either up shooting by complete accident in the wrong direction, or dropping their firearms as they fell. Each gun took a while to reload, and with the damp mud soaking them thoroughly, there was little chance they'd be a threat to her anytime soon.
Not giving her quarry any chance to recover their loud, threatening weapons, the giantess brought an open palm down on more men, smashing several. Blood and guts oozed between her fingers, and gore rose from between her toes where she had stomped on the trio earlier.
She looked at the palm of her hand bringing it up to her face for inspection. One man was still partially alive, stuck to her palm in a sea of the blood of his comrades. She now knew that her opponents could die, and more importantly, very easily.
She looked at the remaining ones, who were beginning to falter in their conviction to kill her.
She raised her foot once more, bringing it down on a man who was just getting to his feet. Her toes wrapped around his body, crushing him like a grape before throwing the corpse several dozen meters across the jungle.
Realizing that she was more efficient on her hands and knees, the giantess got on all fours and began to systematically kill ever single sailor that had dared to challenge her, ensuring they would never be a threat ever again. She reached for one man who was desperately crawling away, and pinched him by his ankle, crushing the lower half of his leg with ease. He cried out in agony as she raised him into the air.
She noticed that he looked similar to her, in terms of how he walked and where his hair was. However, his chest was flat and his hips lacked any flare. What's more, he had very unusual materials covering most of his body. Nothing like the furs and pelts she had crafted for herself. Deciding to see if they made for a potential meal, the giantess opened her mouth.
The man in her clutches, realizing what she had in mind, screamed bloody murder as she slowly lowered him into her maw. Her tongue darted out to taste him, licking the salty seawater off of him. His comrades at her feet desperately tried to save him, striking at her feet with their cutlasses.
Just like before, their weapons had no effect on her flesh. The sailors could only watch in horror as the giantess dropped the sailor into her mouth. To their anguish, all heard the crunching of bones and squirt of blood as she crunched him between her powerful molars.
The giantess cocked her head, considering the taste. She found it refreshing to taste something that was much less tough than her usual prey, but it was barely a snack. Not exactly suitable for a prime source of food. However, in numbers they might make for a decent afternoon lunch.
Turning her attention back to the sailors, she plucked them up, one by one. She did not eat all of them, preferring instead to break some of them in half between her fingers.
Captain Smith watched his men as they were massacred before his eyes. He had not been injured, and he could try to help, but to do so would be meaningless. He could not hope to stand against this monster by himself.
"Retreat!" He cried, before running back in the direction of the beach. A few sailors saw him run, and followed suit. The rest scattered into the jungle, trying to escape the unstoppable power that was a giant woman laying waste to their crewmates.
Upon finishing up with her most recent victim, the giantess noted the fleeing creatures. Her predatory instincts kicked in, and she gave chase. Her long, powerful legs carried her farther in a single step than they could hope to achieve in fifty. She casually stepped on a fleeing couple as she pursued a small group.
Penelope looked at the dead body in front of her.
Otto had been unfortunate enough to have been squished like an ant as the giantess began hunting down any who ran. She was currently having fun squeezing a sailor to death about fifty meters away from her.
Looking at Otto's body, she thought quickly.
Part of her wanted to run, to flee and never look back. But she could not bring herself to just leave Otto's body like this. He had wanted to see his wife. Thinking quickly, Penelope snatched the locket from the puddle that was her friend. She would see it returned to England, assuming she managed to survive of course.
She was just about to turn and try to escape when she heard rustling behind her. Turning, Penelope was mortified to see the giantess looking in her direction. It took a moment or two, but eventually her hazel eyes found Penelope's tiny, defenseless form.
The giant took intimidating strides forward.
Penelope thought of running, but realized she had no chance of outrunning or outpacing the much larger woman. Looking back at Otto, she saw his discarded blunderbuss lying next to the indent that was the giantess' footprint.
As the giantess neared, she extended her hand towards Penelope with the intention of grasping the tiny woman. The appendage was darkened with blood, yet still distinctly feminine. She imagined herself as little more than a stain on this beasts hand, or perhaps a bit of nourishment for her, assuming she found herself in it's stomach.
She imagined the satisfaction that would give Captain Smith, who she had seen flee the battle. If one could call this slaughter a battle. Penelope refused to die like that, and lunged for the blunderbuss. Not hesitating, the Englishwoman cocked the weapon, and fired into the giantesses open palm, blindly.
The force of the blunderbuss firing was enough to knock Penelope off her feet, and she landed painfully on her back. She had never fired a gun before, and she was completely unprepared for the massive recoil. The gun itself flew from her grasp, clattering away, out of reach.
The giantess also reeled, as the powerful weapon was enough to harm her, at least a little bit. She yelped in pain, recoiling from the unusual creature who had harmed her. Her hand throbbed painfully, with the pain being centered around eight or so small holes in her skin. Opening and closing her fist, the pain subsided after a minute or so.
She was bleeding. Not enough to be life threatening, but she was bleeding nonetheless. The giantess blinked with the realization that this was the first time she had been wounded in several years. Looking down, she noticed the creature that had given her the injury.
Penelope gasped as she noticed the enormous eyes of the giant woman glaring down at her. She was currently laying on her back between the woman's carriage like feet, prone. Penelope gulped, slowly trying to crawl away. She feared greatly for her own life, so much so that she did not notice that the giant's eyes were full of curiosity, rather than malice.
Penelope had to admit, the gargantuan woman was very attractive. With full lips, soft features and dark hair that extended just past her swaying breasts. The giantess got on her haunches for a closer look at the Englishwoman, who was to stricken with fear to move anymore.
This action flexed the giantesses mighty thighs, which bulged with muscle. Penelope had never seen a woman so well endowed with muscle, and power. She did not even know a woman was capable of acquiring a six pack.
The giantess was still very clearly female. A reality that was punctuated by the fact that the colossal woman had her legs spread as she leered over Penelope's helpless body. A light, distinct odor radiated from her crotch. If Penelope didn't know any better, she might think the giantess was aroused. She gulped, trying to shake the various naughty thoughts that ran through her brain.
The giantess for her part found Penelope to be very interesting. Penelope was much more similar to herself in physical appearance than any of the sailors she had killed thus far. There were a few differences, namely Penelope's golden hair and much more slender physique. The tiny woman's eyes were of a bright blue, similar in color to the sea.
After a minute or two of staring each other down, the giant acted. Once more, she reached for Penelope. This time, she did not have a blunderbuss to protect herself. With a high pitched cry, Penelope found herself being lifted into the air. She looked into the giantess' eyes, searching for an intention of some sort.
Fortunately, no indomitable pressure closed around the blonde's waist, and no teeth crushed her to goo. Instead, the giantess began to walk. Each step sent chills down Penelope's spine as she was carried away from the clearing.
"Wait! Where are you taking me?!" Penelope cried, as the surviving sailors became more and more distant. The giantess gave no response as she entered the jungle once more, leaving the survivors to contemplate their losses.
"How many men did we lose?" Captain Smith asked grimly. He currently sat on a log, his cutlass resting beside him. He was in considerably better shape than the rest of his men, who sat around him in a haze of pain and misery.
Nobody said anything for several moments, before a voice finally pipped up.
"We only have six here right now, but several fled in different directions. We don't know if everybody else is dead." The man said.
"Their dead. Half the men were already beat up. Ain't no way they made it far."
"I do know that!"
"Leave him alone Fred."
Captain Smith decided to let his crew bicker amongst themselves. He had no way of assuring them that everything was going to be okay, primarily because he knew it was not. They were tired, wounded, and frustrated. Might as well they get out all of their pent up anger now, rather than take it with them down the line.
"Anybody else see what happened at the end, by any chance?" One sailor, who had been quiet up until this point asked. "The giant... she just left."
"She took the girl." Another man pointed out. "The doctor... or the scientist or whatever."
There was murmuring amongst the crew. True, Penelope was last seen in the clutches of the giant.
"Why do you think that is?" Someone asked. "Why'd she just up and leave with her?"
"Maybe it's because their both... y'know, female."
"You think they can talk to each other? Some kind of ladyfolk banter?"
"We were just attacked by a woman bigger than the building I was born in, I'd say anything can happen!"
"What if she planned this!? The woman must have summoned that thing!"
"My pa said witches haunt the sea, lads..."
"Or maybe the giant is just going to cook her. Woman's flesh is softer, is it not?"
Captain Smith scoffed at his men's superstitions and blind assumptions. He liked to imagine he was of a different class over these plebians, above such nonsense spread by parents to scare disobedient children. However, he was curious about why Penelope had been taken. With any luck, she was dead. A pebble graciously removed from his shoe.
Regardless of her current condition, his mission was clear. Slay the giantess, and conquer this land for the king.
Penelope gulped as the giantess entered a large cave. It was massive by Penelope's standard, yet little more than a makeshift doorway for the colossal woman. At a guess, this was her home. The large pile of sticks in the center of the cave that appeared to be used for a fireplace provided evidence of that much.
The giantess took a seat, leaning against the wall of the cavern, which was lit by the external light bouncing off of the rock, shining through a hole in the roof.
The woman placed Penelope on her lap, and looked down at her.
For several moments, there was an awkward silence, as neither party knew exactly what to do. The giantess simply stared at Penelope in curiosity and what could be interpreted as expectancy. Penelope got to her feet, wobbly.
She looked up at the giant, trying to figure out what she wanted.
She thought to herself, remembering the lessons she had taken regarding making first contact with an indigenous species. Taking a deep breath, she first attempted to establish a means of communication.
"Hello?" Penelope said. The giantess cocked her head, considering the word. Evidently, she spoke no English. "Hola?" Penelope tried again, noting the tan skin of the giantess. Perhaps she spoke a Romance language?
"Bonjour? Ciao?" Penelope pressed. Still, no flicker of recognition sparked in the giantess' eyes. She seemed to possess some form of intelligence, to construct clothes and build a shelter like this. Her hair was braided, implying she knew at least some form of self expression. Furthermore, she clearly bathed.
Trying something a bit simpler, Penelope raised her hand. This confused the giantess, who looked at her strangely. Penelope waved her hand. As far as she knew, this was a relatively universal greeting.
To Penelope's delight, the giantess mimicked her. Raising her hand, and waving it back and forth. It was clearly a motion she was unaccustomed to. Perhaps she didn't interact with any of her own kind?
"Hello? Um... my name is Penelope. Penelope Cartwright." The blonde stated. "What is your name?"
As would be expected, the giantess still appeared confused. She was still waving her hand, and only put it down when Penelope did not respond.
Penelope pointed at herself, and said her name aloud, clearly.
The giantess nodded, seeming to understand.
"Punelly... Ponellallee." She stopped, struggling with the word. She looked down to the blonde, as if asking her to repeat the name.
"Penelope." The blonde said, pointing at her chest.
The giantess tried again, with little success.
Penelope shook her head, but could not keep the amused smile off of her face. She found the whole thing endearing.
"You know what? Just call me Penny."
She pointed at her chest again.
The giantess seemed confused by the sudden name change, but tried to say the much simpler name.
"Pennn.... Penni? Penny!" She said, finally getting the name correct. The giantess laughed, clearly happy with the accomplishment. To Penny, it was a rather proud moment for her as well. It was an interesting sound, the giantess laughing. Far more pleasant a sound that the roaring she had heard earlier.
So she had a heart... and emotions as well.
Penny pressed on. She pointed at the giantess' chest.
"So, what is your name?"
The giant looked at her funny, before noticing Penny was raising her hand to point. She mimicked the motion, pointing directly at Penny, who shook her head.
"No, your name." She jabbed her finger as she pointed, indicating she was referring the giant rather than herself. It took the woman a few moments to get it, but eventually, she stopped pointing at Penny and pointed to herself, nervously.
When Penelope shook her head up and down, and not side to side, she knew she was doing something correct. She then realized she was doing the same pose that Penny had been doing when she announced what she was called.
"Okara?" Penny asked. It was the giantess' turn to shake her head in amusement at the mistake.
"Kara." She said again.
"Kara?" Penny asked. The giantess- Kara shook her head several times in approval. "Your name is Kara?"
"Well Kara, I'm very happy to make your acquaintance. I am equally happy that you did not eat me back there." Penny said. Kara had absolutely no clue as to what she was saying, but it did not matter, she could pick up on her happier tone.
Penny carefully sat down on Kara's powerful thigh, figuring she was going to be here for a while.
"So Kara... let's see if I can get you to talk about yourself."
The next two weeks passed by at a snails pace for Captain Smith and his tiny squad of survivors. They were bruised, tired, and most of all, hungry.
What little food they could scavenge came in the form of small animals they found, or the occasional fish they managed to scrounge up at a small pond. However, being so close to the water meant mosquitoes. Lots of them. Every sailor was covered in the bites, and to make matters worse, Captain Smith refused to allow them to cover themselves with mud to ward of the vile creatures.
He explained that any advice they had received from 'that bitch' was designed to lure them to their deaths. The crew wondered if he was still sane. Like them, he had had precious little to eat or drink, but unlike them he was pushing himself physically.
Smith wanted to be the first in everything. The first to climb a tree to try spotting something useful, the first to wade through quicksand, the first to eat. It was as if he was trying to ensure his autobiography would be chock full of stories of his valor and courage.
The men wondered what kept him going. Captain Smith had lost a lot of weight, due to a combination of both malnutrition and dehydration, coupled with a healthy dose of diarrhea. It should surprise none that it was his determination to kill the giantess that kept him going. As if he could, with his rusty cutlass.
The men had been considering mutiny, and were perfectly ready to murder the captain for their own sakes, when the most glorious scent wafted through the jungle.
Every sailor found their mouths watering and their stomachs growling as they took in the incredible smell of roasting meat. The odor permeated through the jungle, driving them into a frenzy.
"Forward lads! To a meal!" Captain Smith bellowed. They needed no instruction, as the six men were already using what little energy they had left to sprint through the jungle towards the source of the smell. They cared not to imagine what could be cooking such a meal. Even if they had, they might not have cared. They had eaten naught for two weeks.
Crashing through the forest, Captain Smith found himself at the head of the pack. He was the first one to hear it. Laughter. A mirthful sound that had become so alien, such a thing of the past that he didn't recognize the sound at first. What's more, the laughter belonged to a woman.
He had precious little time to consider this, as he burst from the tree line.
Before him, was the entrance to a cave. Enormous in scope, bigger than the masts of most ships in the glorious Royal Navy he pledged allegiance to. Within, was a fire.
An inferno that radiated comforting heat even at this distance. His skin, clothes and hair was soggy, soaked through with mud and water. He felt his strength creeping back as the fire soothed him. Like a moth to a flame, he approached.
The smell of cooking meat became even more intoxicating as he entered the cave alone. His men had fallen behind, and he had no intention of waiting for them. He was cold, wet, hungry and tired.
Furthermore, as he approached a figure standing close to the fire, prodding an enormous animal that was on a pit over the fire with a long stick, he felt fury.
Penny was alerted to his presence through the snapping of sticks and twigs behind her.
"Kara?" She asked aloud, turning. Kara liked to sneak up on her some times as a joke, but she had never been this quiet.
To Penny's shock, a man stood there. She scarcely recognized him. She might have assumed him to be a totally different person had it not been for the tricorn hat over the greasy ponytail.
"C-Captain Smith?! My god, what has-?" Penny began, only to be cut off when she noticed that he was holding his cutlass.
The sword had seen better days. It's once gleaming steel blade was rusty, and chipped in several places. The beautiful encrusted hilt was now unrecognizable. But it was still a sword, and a sword wielded by a man who appeared to be insane.
Captain Smith had dark bags under his eyes, and his piercing gaze was made even more intimidating by the bloodshot nature of the eyes themselves. His lips were pursed, barely concealing the rage within him.
"You're alive." Smith said hoarsely. Penny nodded, backing away slowly. Smith slowly stepped forward, inching closer, sword in hand.
"Captain... I thought you were dead." She said, genuinely.
"Not yet." He shot back.
"I-I'm happy you're okay... is anybody else alive?" She asked. She pointed to the large, unfamiliar animal that was roasting behind her. "We've enough for everybody."
Smith had a malicious smirk on his face, one that spoke volumes.
"My men are glutton for that thing. But I want something else." He seethed. "Where have you been?"
"I've... been here."
"No." Penny said. "With-"
"The giant savage who killed all my men." Captain Smith said, his voice almost at a yell.
"Her name is Kara." Penny said, surprised at how quickly she defended her friend. "And she only killed your men because you told them to attack her!"
Smith did not respond, he simply muttered under his breath. Penny found herself unable to back up anymore. Any further and she would fall into the small ditch surrounding the fireplace. The ditch was filled with burning coals and embers.
Smith noted her current attire. Comprised of pelts and fur, just like the giantess. Her feet were wrapped with some kind of moccasin. Evidently Penny's feet were nowhere near as thick as Kara's.
Smith smiled evilly.
"For the past two weeks... I have thought of nothing but killing her." He said. "My men have said its impossible... she's too big."
"Your men are right. She's a very nice person!" Penny said. "Please, put down the sword. She can feed you all, and-"
"However, if I cannot kill her... perhaps I can hurt her in other ways?" Smith said. Penny stopped cold. "Tell me, whore. How much does she love you?"
Penny began shaking. She glanced around, looking for an escape from this madman. She espied a stick that Kara had intended to use as kindling.
Smith was walking forward, when she quickly ran for the stick. It was large and unwieldy, but it was all Penny had to defend herself. She held it up threateningly.
"Stay back Smith!" She said, hoping he would be cowed by her. She had some advantage. Smith was malnourished and tired, plus his blade was little more than a piece of rusty metal at this point. On the other hand, she had buffed up over the past two weeks in Kara's care, and some muscle was toned on her body.
However, she had never been in a fight before. Smith on the other hand was still a captain in the Royal Navy, trained to use a weapon. Plus, he was determined to see her dead. She had never killed someone in her life.
Smith was about to pounce when an enormous thud was heard in the distance. Smith looked behind him.
From the trees from which he had come, Kara stood. She appeared livid. Blood dripped from her hands and feet. At a guess, the sailors that had fallen behind Smith. She looked directly at Smith, realizing what he intended. She took off in a full sprint towards the pair.
"Well Penelope. Looks like I'll have to kill you quickly-" Smith was cut off by Penny hitting him as hard as she possibly could in the back of the head with the stick she had been holding. He cried out in pain, and dropped his cutlass as he fell to the ground.
Acting quickly, Penelope lunged for the sword, and picked it up, holding it to Smith's neck.
"Don't move!" She ordered. When Smith ignored her, and reached for the blade dumbly, she grasped his hand. To her shock, Penny was far stronger than he was. The fact that she had been eating well and also been much more physically active saw to that. If she wanted, she could crush his wrist.
Smith tried to wrench his hand away, only to find her knee smacking into his nose, breaking it. He grunted as the force knocked him onto his back. He coughed, struggling to breathe through his fresh wound.
"I said-" Penny stopped her foot on Smith's prone chest, holding the blade to his throat, so that any movement he made would see it cut. "don't move."
Smith, realizing he was beaten, obeyed. The footsteps of Kara, who was now standing over the two pounded his throbbing head. The beautiful giantess looked down at Smith, who was at the mercy of the two women.
"Are you okay, Penny?" Kara asked. Her English had improved drastically, with Penny's help. She still spoke very slowly, and with an accent. However, asking Penny if she was alright was a pretty common question she had found herself asking.
"I'm fine, thank you."
Kara nodded, grateful her only friend was okay. She then turned her attention to Smith, who looked up at her with hatred.
Kara folded her hands into fists. She had seen Smith about to hurt her friend, and she wanted nothing more than to swallow him whole.
"What happens now? Huh? You pair of whores are going to kill me?" Smith seethed.
"Captain... me and you had our differences, but I didn't want this." Penny lamented. Now that Kara was here, she stepped off Smith, who did not budge.
"I was being sincere when I offered food and shelter." Penny said.
"Your giant friend... she killed my men, just now." Smith said hatefully.
"They attack me!" Kara said suddenly. "I was returning from jungle, and men see me. They talk very big-"
"They talked very loudly." Penny corrected. "Or, they yelled."
"They yelled. I raise my hands, like you say to. But they attack me with um..." Kara could not think of the word, and simply pointed at the cutlass in Penny's hand.
Penny looked back at Smith.
"She only attacked them because they attacked her. I told her weeks ago that if she ever encountered anybody from the crew, she was to put her hands up and slowly back away to show she's not going to hurt them." Penny said.
Smith scoffed. Penny sighed.
"I'm sorry Captain."
They trio remained silent, until Smith spoke.
"So what happens now? You kill me?" He asked.
"If we let you go, you'll die." Penny said. "If we keep you here, you'll kill me. If we try sending you back to England, you'll bring an army to try killing Kara." Penny lamented.
"So you are going to kill me." Smith said.
"She is not." Kara said. Reaching down, she grasped Smith between her fingers, and held him up to her face. "I am."
Kara looked at Penny.
"Leave us." She said. Penny gave Smith one final look. She desperately wanted to see some shred of humanity within his eyes. To her disappointment, she received none. She nodded.
"Goodbye, Captain Smith."
After Penny left Captain Smith found himself alone with the giantess, who had vengeance in her eyes. Placing him on the ground, Kara took a seat. Lifting her legs, she placed her feet atop Smith's hapless body.
Smith groaned as her thick, powerful toes that had a very earthy scent to them wrapped around his body. He could do nothing to stop her as scrunched her toes around him, squeezing him several times experimentally. Each squeeze was harder than the last, and on the last one she nearly crushed him.
Smith mewled as she decided to hold him like this, body ready to pop like a grape for several seconds. He had trouble breathing, both because of how tight she was squeezing him and because his mouth was blocked by a wall of toe flesh.
When she decided he had had enough, she dropped him unceremoniously to the dirt floor of her cave. He landed face first in the mud, and struggled to get up. Not giving him a moment of respite, she continued her assault, using her toes to wrap around his upper body. His head was sandwiched between her big and second toe, as she raised him into the air, putting immense pressure on his neck.
"You hurt Penny." Kara said spitefully. Smith could not hear her, but she did not care that he did. As long as she felt everything she planned she was fine with it. "So I hurt you."
She flung Smith several yards, where he landed in a heap. He twitched, and had trouble standing this time. She stood over him, kneeling above him.
She reached for him once more, for a final time.