One Night Stand

It was the roar of the crowd that drew her in. Boos and yells, cheers and chants, a mass of small sounds melded into one surge of noise as though it came from the maw of some gigantic entity. Ironic indeed, since that was what exactly what it attracted.

It was incredible that a being so vast had managed to creep up unnoticed, yet somehow she did it, and in mid play, the vast bowl of the stadium rocked from some unseen impact. The shudder ran through the stands, standing people staggered, and the tightly packed crowd almost  instantly fell silent.

Not one person wasn't watching, horrified, a fingers emerged from one end, huge fingers, each wider than a man was tall. They rose far into air, curled over the lip of the bowl, and slammed down, one by one, over metal struts with a series of trembling thuds. The knuckles whitened, the rim sinking from the unexpected weight, and a head lifted over the horizon.

It was a feminine face, framed by coppery hair, a few stray strands lifted on the wind and carried across her face. Two gleaming green eyes frowned down at the miniscule populace, first with a thoughtfulness, and gradually changing to an expression more akin to glee.

The tens of thousands of spectators didn't share her apparent enthusiasm. After the initial shock, panic erupted on the fringes nearest to her, or in infectious isolated pockets of hysteria in a fear stilled multitude.

Beyond a hungry gaze, the colossus ignored the crowds trying to flood away from her, instead,  she merely pulled herself to her feet, exposing more of herself as she rose higher and higher over the stands. She was completely naked, her body a seemingly endless wall of living, breathing flesh. And she simply stood there, gazing down over the gently heaving curve of her breasts into a packed multitude, watching the boiling patches of panic swell to consume the entire crowd.

Her lips moved, framing a word that was barely a whisper, yet nonetheless caught the attention of every last fear-struck soul. A number, the meaning lost on all but a very few sharper individuals.

“Ninety thousand…”

For just a moment in time, the awe in her voice reflected that of her spectators, their game completely forgotten as they waited to become part of a new one. One in which only she knew the rules.

The woman dropped partly out of sight as she made a leisurely circuit around the structure, dragging her fingers carelessly over the rim of the stadium. She smirked as she swept her gigantic feet through crowds, cars and tarmac, methodically piling them up against every entrance, blocking them and trapping her prey inside inside the bowl. 

There were thousands of them. Tens of thousands. All trapped to await whatever fate this monstrous apparition had planned for them. Then, and only then, when satisfied they were well and truly ensnared, did she carefully lift her foot, hovering it over one wall, her toes flexing to release a barrage of dust and mangled bloodless bodies.

Then it sank down, over the crowd, the stands, the flimsy wall, breaking it down on one side to form a vast gaping hole in the shape of a “V” the broken sides dropping stray debris over her shifting foot. Sparing a wink for her playthings, apparently pleased with her handiwork, she swept a finger along the bloodied edge of her crowd, mopping up stragglers, bringing them to her cavernous maw and smearing their bodies as she delicately lapped them free

Again, the titan lifted her leg, long and lithe, muscles tensing under the smooth skin to guide the impossible limb over the lip of the bowl, her shadow casting a stripe of ominous darkness over the masses. People tried to clear a path when they realised what was happening: her flexing toes coming straight down regardless of the miniature lives scrambling under her. They clawed over each other, dragging others down, screeching in animal panic until her sole came down into their midst.

They found themselves pressed between walls of unyielding flesh, her sole already dirtied by whatever she had stepped on while making her way there to enjoy this latest toy. Some were briefly confronted with the faintest red splotches on the wrinkled skin, yelling wildly. It didn't take a genius to work out what they were, especially when that same foot was bearing down on them too.

Clambering down over the rows of seats, the massive form moved, bringing her weight down over her trapped bodies, pressing the first few squishy spectators flat against the flimsy plastic seats. The ponderous weight sent cracks racing through the stands, crimson gore speckling out from under her foot, long, horrifying rivulets running downwards. And then she lifted her other leg and planted it firmly atop the grass of the pitch too.

The immense figure sank down, the perfect imprint of her massive toes dimpling the soft turf as she brings the very tips of her fingers to rest over the ground. Tipping her head back, she sniffed, scenting the air, sensing the palatable tang of fear from her prey. She couldn't help giving a little shudder of delight as she turned her face to gaze hungrily down at the panicked crowds. 

Up until that instant, beyond those caught under the indifferent motion of her body, she had shown no explicit aggression. But now, she made her intent all too clear, twisting her body to snap her teeth playfully in the direction of a group of players scurrying past her toes. They yelped in fear, their reaction plastering a toothy grin over her face.

She spread her fingers, allowing her palms to  press down over the lower portion of the stands, countless spectators vanishing; pressed flat to little more than a red film over her skin and the concrete steps. She spread her arms next, sweeping them outward in a wide, all-encompassing arc. Her gigantic fingers vanishing briefly under a mass of screaming bodies, piling them up in living hillocks constructed of horrified souls. Her hands rise clear of the living mass, huge digits rearing over them, pouring dozens aside, then curling over to smear them like so much dead meat underneath her grip.

She slowly brings her whole, impossibly vast, body to rest, wiggling herself to shear through more of the stands. Twisting her form against the electric tingle of tiny lives scrabbling desperately against the mountain of living, breathing Goddess bearing down on them. Her hips shred the stands beside her, most people broken apart between warm skin and cracking concrete, some luckier people ending up spilled over the rolling plain of her back.

Coppery hair catches the light, sweeping over her shoulder as she looks down to observe the delightful crunching and squirming under her breasts, and a warm wetness that makes her grin. The slightest movement shifts the abused multitude, forcing more to pop and crunch under their awesome weight.

Resting a bloody hand on her cheek, tipping her head cheekily to one side to address her captive audience in a pleasant tone, clearing her throat to send her voice echoing through the broiling stands.
"I have wonderful news,” she crooned politely, as though she hadn't just smeared countless people across her skin “You will be my entertainment for tonight."

The colossal entity gives them a moment’s reflection take in the meaning behind her words, wondering if they even yet know that she is to be their executioner. But then she snorts softly, looking fondly at her bloodied hands, twisting their weight over the shattered remains of people, some trying to drag their savaged bodies free of her.

Of course they knew it, how could they ever think anything else?

Steel struts groan as she shunts aside some of the wreckage, scattering people down across her skin. They grasp whatever hold they can, clinging to the living mountain like parasites. A simple sweep of an arm striping their lives into red streaks with bloody remains tacking down from her sides to the ground.

Her face peeks back over the roof, her eyes fixing on the minute specks outside her bowl shaped world. She winks at the gaping onlookers, all if them ignorant to the events inside the stadium. The carnage that sheer luck has brought down on gridlocked spectators. Her cold gaze moves on, back to her chosen toys, and once more, she dips back down behind the curving rim of the structure. 

Perhaps they thought it couldn't her much worse, but it does. The impossible woman turns, swallowing them first with her shadow, and then her body as she pulled it over them. The pitch forming a bed for her back, her head pillowed by the intact stands, with scores of people entangled in her mass of hair. Hundreds are simply pasted under her vast body, hundreds more wiped out as she lifts one endless leg to hook it over the stand, draping the lengthy limb over the crumbling sides, her foot tapping a rhythm in the air, shaking and rocking the whole thing in sync.

Wiggling to get herself comfortable, her shoulders effortlessly sink through the stands, making a crumbly mess of the concrete steps. She raises a hand, her fingertips brushing lightly over one peaked nipple, done in a such a way to look accidental, or possibly not. They move with a slow, ponderous grace, five shadowy stripes marking the descent of five fingers, heading directly for the living masses.

They glide just over the heads of the crowds, as though selecting a place for the blow to fall,before dropping down. The gigantic fingers sink through the mass of bodies, snapping through bone and mashing flesh and muscle under the very tips of them. Running her hand sideways, she piles them up in a living wave, clustering them all in a seething pile. All the easier to close her digits  around the whole tightly packed mass and lift them over her bare body.

They get to behold her from above, the same view from which a lover might see her, had one existed on such a scale to be capable of pleasing her. The narrow gaps between her fingers letting some spill over her, screeching as they spun down to meet her and staining smooth skin with their deaths. Then her hand drops, hovering mere feet from the red splattered skin, the surface of her palm tilting to sprinkle them down along her body in a long living line.

“I was watching you all on the TV.” She purred softly, her voice dripping with laughter. “This silly game of yours.”

The titan walks her fingers over stragglers, using her fingertips like vengeful, stomping feet to crush people who were fleeing the living stripe, popping them one by one. The masses screaming as a single entity as they watch living souls compressed and broken, spewing guts as they're reduced to nothing but redness over the massive woman's body.

Fingertips pinch one lone mote of a person, whorled walls elevating him above his fellows in a way he would never had anticipated. Her grip demonstrating the awesome power in that vast hand, should she have chosen to use it. She observes his tiny figure with mild interest, rotating him to get a view of him from every side. But the goddess seemed unamused by the creature, rolling him roughly between those fingertips, snapping limb and bone and finally reducing his insignificant l life to a red stain.

Wails rise anew from her captives and the vast eyes blink, grinning happily down at the appreciation of her work. Sliding her foot outwards, her toes sheer through anyone stupid enough to make a break for the gash she made in the stadium wall. She draws the limb in an effortless arc, a long streak of glistening, mangled remains marking its lazy passage, trapping the hopeful escapees between a towering walls of living flesh.

Green eyes flick down to regard her own body and all those tiny motes cowering over her bare skin, flicking from crowd to horrified crowd “I couldn't resist such an offering.” She intones softly “You should all be honoured to die for my pleasure"

Hands the size of fields move, stroking immense digits over the the soft curvature of her breasts to cup them together. She can't help groaning softly as she feels the the mass of warm flesh rise up over her helpless victims, burying them alive them in a narrowing chasm across her chest. Her heartbeat makes a steady drumming beneath their feet, their refuge heating with the encroaching feminine mountains on either side.

Many foolishly try to fight her, their tiny fists beating against her sensitive skin, others are numb, seemingly accepting of this cruel fate. Still more pray, whether to the deity before them or some other gods, it's impossible to discern. But the vast majority scream at her, begging and pleading for her not to do this to them, to grant them the small mercy of their lives.

It's a prayer that falls on deaf ears, her breasts coming together regardless of their every frantic effort to stave off this act. They writhe, climb over each other, their bodies scrabbling frantically in the tightening space. They're pressed into a narrower chasm, their minute bodies forced into a more intimate embrace with each other, the space a dark claustrophobic hell of heat at writhing limbs. Every last soul screeching in pain and terror before they burst, and spread a bloody warmth through her cleavage.

She dabs at the sticky mess dragging red whorls over the vast expanse of her body. Four fading lines running after the gliding fingertips, tainting her skin with irrefutable evidence of her misdeeds. And the giantess revelled in it.

There was no stopping her now, her whole vast body aches for some form of release, and the survivors in the stands can only wait and cower as her greedy fingers hunt them down, seeking every living mass of bodies she can find to add to her game.

They rip through seats and stands like immense living creatures in their own right, each hand a multi-headed monster seeking out fresh prey. The tips smearing dozens with every movement, trapping people under mountains of cruel flesh. She lifts each handful like cupping liquid, raising them triumphantly over her and rolling their living bodies over her warm skin.

They're given a respite as she gathers more and more, sweeping them over herself to cluster and cower amongst their own tiny kind. The look she gives them is a sinister one, as if they needed any more confirmation of her ill-intent, and her hands rise, moving differently, this time carefully dragging living people to scarlet stains all over her skin.

The playful goddess chuckles at the way their delicate limbs tickle her, miniscule thrashing limbs acting a sweet caress over the endless curving plains of skin. Wails rise as they’re abused, squeezed tight between finger and body, cracking bone, flesh splitting. Then one last howl of sheer agony and they crunch with just the slightest pressure.

The earth shudders as her mighty limbs move lazily, almost gently, clutching at the flimsy rim and, with a terrible rending, roar of destruction, tearing down another section of the bowl. People who had hoped to clamber upwards beyond her reach are now stranded in a whirling world of shifting floors and tumbling debris. Cracks snap across the stands, swallowing people whole, whipping across like living tendrils to snatch at her prey.

The section tips with a screech and roar of a tortured structure, it's people clinging like fleas to the disintegrating stands, slamming into those below with sickening crunches when they loose their grip. Hundreds spill against her, peppering her skin, raining down beside her to add their blood to the cast on her body when she moves, burying them all between rubble and herself.
 
Her inevitable arousal is obvious, a deep growling moan of pleasure reverberating around the ruined bowl, the very air throbbing with the sound of impossibly immense lust. Not to mention the glistening wetness seeping out between her thighs

The captives found themselves being moved irresistibly downward, piled up over each other in a peak of contorted forms, mounded and interlocked, each individual struggling to keep afloat of the wiggling mass. Further down, tiny bodies moved through her curling hairs, entangled amongst the course curling wires, tasting her growing scent on the air, as they were brought in closer and closer to her waiting sex.

They were scattered across the curving ridges of her womanhood, forced to endure the unmistakable tang on the air, their every motion serving to stimulate her, willingly or not. Some cling to her curling hairs, legs pattering lightly over the tender skin, tempting a soft moan from giant lips. The rest are lightly pinned in place, trapped between mighty fingers and the burning heat of her arousal, throbbing with her moans as they flutter in panic over her.

Her digits maneuver the tiny little insects, dabbing them over her aching sex and stranding them where they feel the best. She drags twitching bodies along each fold, over  the bump of her clit, and they claw at the air, trying to free themselves from copious globs of glistening nectar. She piles a line of humanity across her slot, easing them between dual folds, stroking and teasing them, before groaning deeply and guiding them inside.

Vast, powerful muscles grip them playfully,   drawing them into a boiling embrace. Her legs move methodically, straightening, arching, straightening again, each shift furrowing the ground, slipping over fleeing people, mowing them down and spreading guts and viscera over the riven scars she made.

They didn't stand a chance, her sex feeding off their tiny tickling struggles as their little limbs attempted to stave off her crushing weight. It's a hellish scene: a hot, dank darkness, filled with the overwhelming presence of her lust. Slippery smooth walls shifted and tensed around her prizes, her oozing nectar a deadly flytrap to the lives she owned completely. There was nothing they could do to stop this uncaring monster: she was going to fuck them, no matter what.

Soon they have friends, more hapless fans fed from riven stands to sate her aching sex. Many perish under the brutal thrust of her fingers, unable to withstand the touch of a Goddess and adding their shattered bodies to the churning soup of sex and death.

Survivors blindly clawed their way across the slick surface, some clutching loved ones, seeking air free of the hot musk of her body. Others simply curled into foetal balls and waited for death to claim them. Some prayed, sinking to their knees and kissing her walls, their wills broken completely, still more fought, kicking and punching her, screaming their throats in rage at such an ignoble end. And some, overwhelmed by pheromones, yelled curses as they tried to fuck her back, thrusting microscopic bodies against hers as though they had any chance of this averting their fate.

It was less than useless, her lust was the great leveller, her hand returning for her toys, and, as one they screeched as they were effortlessly swirled in her wetness, crushed over soft silken heat inside her. They howl as they meet her fingers, the ruthless digits drawing over them, breaking and buffeting them, to make them writhe in helpless torment.

They struggle wonderfully and she growls back at them, demanding in a deep, throaty purr for them keep fighting against her, simply because all this murder feels so delicious. Her fingers work mercilessly over them, toying, clawing, torturing, filling her body with earth shattering pleasure, a thrumming growl building in her throat as she feeds herself the helpless lives of tiny people.

The intense feeling grows and grows, her hips rising in powerful thrusts to meet her hands, shaking the partly demolished stands. Already decrepit parts of the structure crumble more, cracks widening as her motions create an incessant earthquake. Survivors try to crawl away from her on a shifting surface, stumbling and yelling. And, all the while, she keeps groaning, giving voice to the imminent release of pent up furious pleasure.

Her toys cry out as her wetness floods over them, filling the space not filled with thrusting digits. It claims them, owns them, smothers their puny bodies in her lust. Their screams bubble up through her thick nectar, suffocating them en mass, replacing their soured air with sticky girl cum.

They get to feel the thundering vibration of her burgeoning cry before they feel it, her inner muscles contort with a sudden violence. Every flicker and ripple a savage force that splinters bone and shatters their tiny minds. Her second cry hits like an explosion of sound, filling the tiny world with her voice, thrusting inside to crush every last one of them to death. All the helpless little playthings dying en mass simply for the sordid lust of a giantess..

For a while she lay amongst her crimes, the sun warming her body, her energy momentarily expelled. Gigantic limbs swept across in lazy arcs, the goddess stroking one finger in a fiery line along her sex. Through the shattered bowl, she watched the distant buildings, her mind drifting to more thoughts of pleasure and violence.

Bits of twisted metal were shunted aside with apparent ease, the giantess lifting her body up over the broken structure, pausing to admire her handiwork. She licked her finger, drawing it over the flattened field that cradled her body, concentrating on carving out her message in the sodden turf. Eleven numbers, seemingly at random, signed with a blood red heart.

“Well that was fun,” She crooned in a lilting voice, the smile broadening on her face, finding amusement in the naughty thoughts only she could see. Satisfied with her message, she rose to her full, colossal height, the wind playing through her hair as she lifted thumb and pinkie to her cheek, and muttered: “Call me.”

And then, only then, leaving her phone number scored over the carnage, did she turn to leave, only the softest musical giggle floating back on the breeze.