- Text Size +

THE MILLER’S DAUGHTER

______________________________________________________________________

 

“Belinda! Stand still, you silly beastie - yeowch!”

 

Abe Miller stuck his bleeding thumb in his mouth. Belinda, the Miller family’s fat white nanny goat, screeched and clacked her teeth at him. She was in no mood for a milking, and she was letting him know. Abe inspected the bite. It was the second time in as many days Belinda had nipped him. Something was bothering her. Abe hoped Little Standish wasn’t in for another thunderstorm, he knew animals were sensitive to these things sometimes. Barns and roofs around the village had been badly damaged by the last storm, and the deluge had turned his pasture into a muddy mess. Abe had been forced to dip into the ever dwindling supply of last harvest’s hay - one wrong step in the mud for one of his cows could mean a broken leg, or worse. Abe knew he couldn’t afford any accidents. Jane was pregnant again. Soon there would be another mouth to feed.    

 

Abe righted the milk bucket and fished some cornmeal out of his pocket to soothe the cranky she-goat. But just as he managed to settle her down enough to reach for an udder, an abrupt tremor shook the ground, startling both man and goat.

 

“Belinda!”

 

Abe cursed and wiped his hands on the front of his shirt as Belinda trotted away indignantly. It was no use. She was simply too ornery today. The ground trembled again, but of course this did not surprise Abe. In fact, he was glad - he could use a rinse after wrestling with Belinda and her sisters all morning. He stepped outside the barn and looked past the homestead down the dirt road into the forest which led to Little Standish proper. He scanned the horizon, squinting in the bright sunshine. It was nearly noon - she was late.

 

Thoom.

 

Thoom.

 

Thoom.

 

A dark shape crested the treeline on the horizon. A flock of crows, disturbed by the movement, flew cawing from their perches. As the rhythmic thuds grew stronger and closer, Abe watched his daughter’s smiling face come into view above the trees.

 

Anna Miller had been born in the winter of 1635, the coldest winter anyone in the colony of Little Standish could remember. After half a day’s heavy labor, Jane and Abe welcomed red-faced Anna to the world, fists clenched and hollering like a catamount. The young couple was astonished to see their new baby was nearly twice as long and heavy as their firstborn, Isaac. Old Rebecca, the village midwife, swore on her rosary that in all her life she had never seen a baby as big as Anna. The swaddling clothes they had prepared were not nearly big enough to cover her, so Jane had to make do with her spare tablecloth. Jane soon found that no matter how much she nursed Anna cried for more. That night Abe braved the cold and snow to borrow a pitcher of milk from the Alderman down the road to feed his hungry daughter.

 

The next morning they awoke to see Anna had grown nearly half a hand-span during the night. Over the next few days she nearly doubled her size, emptying the pantry and keeping them up all hours with her crying. In three weeks Anna had completely outgrown her crib, and Isaac had been forced to share his cot with his super-sized baby sister, much to his consternation. By the time she was a year old, Anna was the same size as her eight year old brother and sleeping in a bed of her own.

 

At first the Miller’s had feared it to be witchcraft. But the girl didn’t recoil from the Bible, as one possessed would do, and showed no special aversion to hearing the Lord’s Prayer. In fact, so sweet were the baby’s smiles that all thoughts of witchcraft were quickly banished. Anna’s remarkable growth continued, sometimes steadily, mostly in fits and spurts. On her sixth birthday she was tall enough to look her father in the eyes. By ten, he was craning his neck to look in hers. She outgrew their log house, and on her fifteenth birthday Abe and a few other men raised a four-story barn in the corner of Abe’s pasture for her to sleep in. Anna, thirty feet tall at the time, had helped to haul and erect the lumber, easily doing the work of ten men.

 

Now, at nineteen years of age, the young woman walking down the dirt road towards the Miller homestead stood over two hundred feet tall. She towered over the trees, the tallest of which could barely scrape the tops of her shins. The centuries old New England forest was like a field of knee high grass to her. Her long hair was blowing in the breeze, framing her youthful, carefree face. She was wearing a simple dress made of dark navy blue fabric with a billowing white apron made of sailcloth tied around her waist. The gargantuan outfit, which had been sewn together by five village women (under Jane’s careful direction), contained enough material for hundreds of normal-sized dresses.

 

As more of Anna slowly came into view, Abe’s eyes inadvertently glanced at his daughter’s bosom. It couldn’t be helped - Anna’s chest was impossible not to notice. Had she been normal-sized, Anna’s breasts would have been considered huge, the size of ripe pumpkins. At nineteen she had the largest bosoms Abe had ever seen on any woman, ever. Bigger than her mother’s, bigger than any of the women in Little Standish. At her present height however, they were monumental, jutting thirty feet from her chest - each breast dwarfing the Miller’s cabin in size. Abe figured each breast must weigh more than his entire herd of dairy cows combined. Although her dress covered them completely, there was no way to hide their colossal bulk. Under the dress, Abe could clearly see the twin globes slosh and wobble and shake with every step. Details of her erect nipples were visible beneath the fabric. Areola with a circumference greater than his outstretched body, capped with barrel-sized nubs which could have easily supported a man astride them.  

 

Abe watched her approach from under the barn eaves, feeling the earth shiver beneath each thudding step of her tremendous feet. She had made it to the edge of the pasture and was scanning the ground around her feet, peering awkwardly around the massive swell of her bust. Looking for him most likely. Abe cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to his daughter. No response. She was too far away to hear him; a frequent and somewhat frustrating consequence of her immense size. From her vantage point he was smaller than a churchmouse, and his voice little more than a faint squeak. He walked out into the pasture.

 

“Anna! Ho, Anna!”

 

At last, she spotted him, grinned, and began walking towards him. Years of experience navigating the tiny world at her feet had made her a careful and deliberate walker, always scanning the ground in front of her before putting a foot down. Despite her efforts, each step still caused a mini-earthquake for Abe. He was used to being around Anna however, and easily maintained his balance. He watched her enormous bare foot sink into the ground, her toes spreading slightly to bear the weight. The momentum of her step traveled up her body, causing tremors in her bountiful chest, the signature downbeat-and-wobble of heavy natural breasts in motion. The dress was clearly too tight for her around the bust. Abe groaned internally at the thought of having to pay for another half-acre of fabric to have the garment altered.

 

Now that she was only about a hundred yards away Abe had to crane his neck up to keep track of his daughter’s face. In one step she halved the distance between them, and his line of sight was obscured by the zeppelin-like shadow of her twin mountains. A moment later her face reappeared, cresting the horizon of her bosom as she leaned over to peer down at him.   

 

Looking forward he gulped. Maybe he should've been used to the view by now, after all she was his daughter, but the size difference was just too overwhelming sometimes. Right in front of him rested her house sized right foot. The big toe was nearly as tall as he was. To his right he saw her other foot, building sized as well, with toes like a row of massive boulders. The feet had sunk into the ground under her enormous weight and the displaced earth had welled up around them. He craned his neck to look up. Her legs were obscured from the ankle up by her dress, which rose like a sheer cliff face. The twin mountains of her breasts looked even more impressive from below. Jane had a special undergarment she’d bought from a French trader, a lace brassiere made in Europe. Abe couldn’t imagine the miracles of engineering that would be necessary to construct a brassiere for Anna, but such a garment would have been easily roomy enough to scoop up every man, woman, and child in Little Standish into its vast cups, with room to spare. Over the swell of her breasts Anna looked down on him, sweet features, wild hair, young and alive and as well as big and powerful.   



    “Good morrow Father!”

   

He felt her powerful voice reverberate in his body. Despite her size, Anna’s voice still carried a girlish lilt, only blown up to massive proportions. She stooped over, causing her massive breasts to wobble pendulously in front of her. Abe watched the ponderous teats swaying above him. He trusted Anna completely, but if he ever found himself trapped under one of those monsters he was fairly certain she wouldn’t even notice him until it was too late. She was simply too big, and even her tiniest inadvertent movements could be deadly for the tiny people around her.    

 

Abe braced himself as his daughter’s hand descended from the sky. She held her palm face up in front of him about a foot off the ground. He clambered aboard and was gently lifted into the sky as Anna brought him towards her face. Her fingers, as thick and tall as oak trees, curled protectively over him. Abe could feel the heat of her skin even through his boots.

 

Anna lifted him over her bosom. Her fingers relaxed as her hand stopped and he beheld her gigantic face looking down at him. At this distance, she dominated his field of vision like a billboard.

 

“Dawdling again? You know better Anna” Abe chided.

 

He addressed his daughter in a loud, clear voice out of habit, but at close range like this Anna had no trouble hearing regular speech. Her giant lips parted and she spoke.

 

"I’m sorry father, I know I’m late - truth be told I overslept."

 

The deep bass of his daughter’s voice shook his body. Abe could feel her hot breath wash over  him and could see two rows of glistening white teeth behind her pillowy lips. Each tooth was almost large as he was. He could see the tip of her giant pink tongue forming each of her words as she spoke down to him. Truth be told, he felt a little ridiculous rebuking her. If she took a mind to it she could trample him underfoot like an ant, or swat him like a fly with the same tender hand she held him with now. He was her father, but there was no question who held the real control in the relationship. If she chose to do something, what could he possibly do to stop her? Truth be told, what could anyone do? It was fortunate for the people of Little Standish that Anna possessed a sweet, even temperament. She possessed a remarkable level of self-control for a young woman the size of a skyscraper.

 

“You know better than to lie-about my dear. Now run along, you’ve a job to do. You wouldn’t want the dockmaster to be cross now would you?”

 

Anna shook her head. The breeze whipped up by the motion ruffled Abe’s hair.

 

“It won’t happen again father, I promise.”

“Good. Now set me down by the cow barn - and be sure to be home by sundown.”

 

“Yes father!”

 

Abe braced himself as Anna bent over again to set him down. He watched her body woosh past, her face obscured again by the titanic domes of her breasts. She reached over and set him down by the cow barn, as he had asked. He watched her stand back up to her full height. Speaking to Anna face to face like that always gave him the sense that they were on equal terms. But that illusion was shattered as soon as she returned him to the ground and he beheld the full scope of her size again. She smiled down at him and carefully stepped over the barn. He watched her tremendous foot soar overhead, blotting out the sun for a moment and casting a deep shadow over himself and the entire barn. A gentle rain of dirt and grass pelted the roof as debris dislodged from her bare soles. The cows mooed nervously at the sudden darkness. Her foot impacted the ground on the other side, and the whole barn shook from the resulting tremor. As her other foot rose into the air for the next step Abe cupped his hands and shouted at his daugher:

 

“Anna go around!”

 

But it was no use - she was already too far away. The rhythmic rumbling of Anna’s footsteps faded into the distance, as did the massive silhouette of her body.  

 

Abe shook his head. How many times did he have to remind her not to do that?

You must login (register) to review.