It was a very hot day. Captain Lucas Estrada was blazing a trail with his machete under the thick grass stalks, trying to be quiet, and stopping at intervals to listen for any sounds of approaching danger. He could hear nothing besides the very loud buzzing of insects all around him. He was hot, thirsty and uncomfortable.
Just two days ago, he completely lost control of his orbital scramjet, while doing test maneuvers just outside the atmosphere just after dusk. He tried to dodge the purple wobbling whirlpool that suddenly appeared before his aircraft, to no avail. Although there was no sensation of hitting anything, and the plane did not even vibrate, it stalled almost immediately after the cockpit was flooded with the eerie purple glow. The plane started losing altitude immediately afterwards.
He did all he could to restore control, but all systems were utterly dead. As it was very dark, and he had no instruments, he could not know how far he was from ending the tailspin he was in until he nosedived into a mountain. He opted for ejecting out of his very expensive plane, sure he would be court-martialed for destroying the experimental plane in its maiden flight. When he was jettisoned out of the cockpit, the whiplash was so violent that he was sure he would break his neck, but he had managed to pull together and stabilize his fall. The parachute deployed automatically.
He landed in what seemed to be a wood, just after dark. He curled beside a tussock taller than him, wrapped in his thermal blanket, too exhausted to bother unwrapping his emergency rations and fell asleep almost instantly.
Sunlight woke him up quite a few hours later. While he had breakfast, he had the nagging sensation that something was off. He glanced again at his watch and then at the sky. According to his (mechanical) watch it was not nearly 3 am, but what he could see of the sun over the grass stalks above was almost at the zenith. His GPS was not working, and his compass seemed to be magnetized, because it kept spinning and wobbling, never settling.
The vegetation was also off. He grew up in the Brazilian countryside and stayed there for most of his life before joining the Brazilian air force and becoming a test pilot. He also had had ample opportunity to attend several wilderness survival courses in Colombia, Peru, Argentina and of course, Brazil, where he was endlessly drilled on plants that could be edible or used to build makeshift shelters out of, in mountain, savannah or lowland jungle environments. But every plant he could see around him was utterly unknown, with very large, tough leaves and even the grass was taller than he was, with bristling hairs that hurt his skin… he could not be in Africa, could he? Had he fallen THAT far? Also, he felt oddly energetic, light on his feet.
He then unpacked his survival kit, consisting of a few rations, a machete, a small canteen, and the thermal blanket. As the compass was useless, he started walking north, or what he thought it was north; it was as good a direction as any; walking north or south he was bound to find a river or stream, as most rivers in the Amazon (where he thought he was more likely to be) ran west to east.
Less than six hours later, he had to ditch his jumpsuit and kept hiking in the thin sweatpants and undershirt he wore beneath it. The sun was just too damn hot, and the grass reflected quite a bit of heat from below as well. He thought he must look like a dork in his clinging white sweatpants, white short-sleeved t-shirt and brown combat boots. But there was no one around to make fun of him. Indeed, he seemed to be in an endless reed or cane field, similar to bamboo but not as hard. There were no trees in sight and the reed or giant grass stalks were covered with bristles. He wanted to climb so he could see far ahead for any clue on any landmark or river he could follow to get to a settlement but the unwelcoming stubble growing on the stalks precluded any such efforts.
After sixteen hours of walking, the sun had still not set, but he was so tired he was stumbling. Finishing his last ration, he again curled up against a stalk and went to sleep without waiting for the darkness. It was a little after 9 PM on his watch. He woke several times during the night, but because his flashlight did not work, he could not check the time. It surely felt like more than twelve hours of darkness… the night was very warm, so he did not feel the need for a fire. At least there were no mosquitoes. He had seen fist-sized beetles, inch-long ants and quite a few meter-long centipedes, though.
As soon as dawn broke (1 PM!), he started walking, pretty sure he had covered over 50 kilometers and not sure how much this weird cane field could go before it cleared, or he succumbed from the heat, thirst and hunger… whatever came first, probably thirst, since there were no signs of water anywhere. Hours later he was getting to an area where he had to use his machete more. The ground was wetter, the undergrowth thicker but he thought he could see light ahead.
Before he knew it, and after climbing out of a hollow, he stumbled upon one last tussock beyond which he could see the sky, white with sunlight. Prying the stalks apart, he could see he was in a small sandy rise, and the grass ended abruptly just before him, going down into a shallow sandy hollow. Another rise was just beyond that but to his left he could see, through a gap between that rise and the next, the glint of the sea, or a lake, not so far, it seemed. He was, apparently, in a dune before a beach of sorts. There were scattered grass tussocks about, but it was mostly gray sand all around.
He walked just beyond a tussock on top of the dune and looked ahead. He now saw that the sea extended as far as he could see, just two to three hundred meters ahead of him. There was no one around and nothing around him but the sea and the dunes. Behind him, he could see the plains he came from. Beyond them, the dark line of a faraway forest could be seen. Turning back to the sea, he scanned the horizon with dismay. There was no man-made structure as far as he could see… far away, out to the sea he saw a few birds, probably gulls, flying about.
With a thump, he sat on top of the dune, his mind and body too drained to cope. He just sat there, elbows on knees, and stared at the surf for a while, feeling the unsettling sensation of the walls of the back of his throat starting to stick to each other from thirst, and the creeping weakness and crankiness (and fear) brought off by dehydration. He had another disquieting feeling from looking at the landscape around him… something seemed… off… but he could not really put his finger on what exactly was wrong, but he was sure something was.
He was not sure how long he remained like that. He supposed he must have dozed off under the sun while he was looking at the gray sand between his legs, despondently. Then a noise startled him awake. It sounded like the howl of a large wild animal, and it was LOUD. Wide eyed, he scanned the horizon to his left, where he heard the sound.
At first, he could see nothing, but then he noticed movement at the foot of one of the dunes, and suddenly a slim figure, the unmistakable silhouette of a human walking upright, could be seen walking beyond the dune and towards him. It was a young woman, strolling carefree in the beach, face turned happily towards the sun, with a wide-brimmed hat on one hand, sandals on the other. She had long, brown and straight hair, slender frame, slightly tanned skin and the loose shirt and short skirt she was wearing showed off her athletic legs. Great thighs, he found himself thinking. Her face was also very appealing, frank, happy, with a smooth, carefree brow and big eyes. He could even see her white teeth gleaming.
Due to some atmospheric effect, no doubt the reason he felt something was off, he could not really tell how far she was; oddly, she seemed to be far from him as if through a haze, but she still appeared to be close judging from her apparent size; he had heard such mirage-like phenomena could arise in hot days in deserts. The rise he was on top of was high enough that he was looking down on her, but not by much. The direction she was walking on would bring her close to where he was.
He stood up, shouted and waved, jumped in place to get her attention, but she either chose to ignore him or could not hear him, as her smiling face showed no reaction whatsoever. The surf was not loud enough to drown his cries. He started walking towards her. She kept walking and then stopped, frowning. She still was not looking at him. She put the hat and the sandals on the ground and turned his back to him, looking at the waves.
He noticed that even after two minutes of walking, she seemed to be much at the same distance than before, which was quite odd. She showed no reaction to his cries of help, standing motionless as she was looking at the waves. Was she deaf, perhaps? Just his luck! Then, as he approached a big isolated tussock of reeds taller than him, suddenly, she turned towards him, and started to jog, but she still was not acknowledging his presence. He stopped. And then, the bottom of his stomach dropping, he realized what was wrong, as she picked up pace and started to run towards him.
She was huge! Although human-looking, she had to be at least twenty meters tall. He had thought she was 500 meters away, but, she was about two kilometers from him, and closing the distance fast with her huge strides. He noticed her size because of the unmistakable shape of the tussocks scattered all over the beach, the same tussocks he had seen for days. They barely cleared her ankles. Soon, he could feel the ground tremble under her giant, stomping feet. Now he did NOT want to be seen. Looking around wildly, he dived in the tussock near him, crouching to make himself smaller, pulling the stalks about him to take cover as much as he could.
With some relief, he soon realized she was not running exactly towards him but was going to run past him if she kept her course. Apparently, she had not seen him. But then, as his luck would have it, she slowed down and stopped, looming over about 20 meters to his right.
She had an oddly cute frown on her beautiful face as she stood there, hands akimbo, seeming to be considering something as she looked at her feet, pensively. She remained like that for a bit, giving him time to admire her striking features, made even more attractive by the breeze tossing her light brown hair about. the white blouse and matching skirt only covered her body slightly. Her skin had the firm toning of youth and health, and her bosom, held by a black bikini top peeking from the blouse, protruded promisingly from her chest. His low angle allowed him a near-upskirt view of her powerful but slender calves and thighs, muscles rippling under her skin, giving her legs decidedly eye-catching curves in all the right places. As he involuntarily stretched his neck to catch a glimpse of her still unseen crotch, he desisted and shook his head, dispelling the lecherous thoughts bubbling up unbidden in his head. She was, quite literally, out of his league, and also as big as to be monstrous. Who could know what such a being would do to him, if she saw him?
Then his heart stopped as her head swiveled towards his tussock and first she looked directly at him, and then she started to stride, ominously and deliberately towards him, the sand crunching noisily under her undoubtedly titanic weight as she sashayed closer. She stood just in front of the tussock, legs slightly spread to each side of it, nailing him to the ground with her hazel gaze, with a blank, unreadable look in her angelic face while she loomed over Lucas.
Suddenly, she gave a slight half-step to her side, and to his utter shock, he saw her look around her as if to check she was alone, and then her enormous, long fingered hands were sliding under her skirt, pulling her black bikini bottom off her legs, stepping out of her panties in a quick, supple motion, and bunching them up in one hand. Lucas’s gaze flew immediately, involuntarily, to between her thighs, where the dark cushion of her vulva could barely be seen under the shade of her skirt. Then the shade was dispelled as she bunched up her skirt around her waist, and, shockingly and unexpectedly, squatted directly over him on her tiptoes.
This action treated him to the hypnotizing sight of shapely, if enormous female thighs spreading and a beautiful young pussy descending from the sky towards him, its folds peeling from each other slightly as he stared, downright uncomprehending of her actions, at the colossal genital mound in front and above him, a strong female musk of sex and not unpleasant womanly sweat washing over him.
He had the sense to look farther up, where he could see again her blank look as she looked directly at him, but, he realized, without discovering him hidden under the grass leaves. She averted her eyes, and he could only see the underside of her chin and her nostrils as she looked again around her checking nobody (of her size) was around. As he directed his gaze back to her crotch, he noticed, mesmerized, her taint and the ridges of her anus pulsing ominously. He realized what was going to happen and stood up, looking frantically around him for a way out. He found none, the stalks around him were just too close together and thick to be able to jump away. Her hand snaked down towards her crotch and he was treated to her fingers spreading her cunt folds with practiced ease to make the impending process less messy, no doubt. He found himself looking in disbelief at the two pink, gaping holes in front of him and the slightly hairy cushions of flesh surrounding them. Lucas could barely glimpse at the slightly pyramidal junction of her labia over her pussy, forming the hood under which her clit was covered.
She was going to pee. On him.
That was the last thought his addled brain was able to squeeze through his dazed consciousness as the smaller of her pink holes suddenly dilated and, with a hiss, a thick stream of liquid came gushing out with undeniable force, hitting him square on the side of his head, which he barely managed to turn away. Head over heels, he fell like an ox, stunned and senseless, over the stalks.