Pacho was startled out of his voyeuristic episode by a veritable pandemonium. As the giant girl was purring her post-orgasmic bliss, all of a sudden, three loud, high-pitched notes were heard from somewhere in the building. Immediately, the giantess sat up and straightened her back, in a posture clearly signaling alarm.
After three seconds, the whistle piped three times, again, followed by a sound like a storm at sea as dozens of giant female voices cried in several degrees of alarm and panic, doors were open, furniture was moved, and even more dozens of enormous feet clomped about, as the whistle repeated itself every three seconds, and Pacho’s naked soles could feel the building rumble as giant females fled the premises. It was clearly an alarm signal, possibly fire.
Tloche! Thought Pacho, before realizing that she was a doctor in the making and surely more trained for emergencies than he was… in any case, he had to get out, too! He had zero chances of surviving a fire, more so being naked and helpless as he was.
The giant Mal-Jabloki rose from her stupor, and Pacho managed to peek from his hiding spot as enormous feet stomped around and the woman managed to slip into a yellow shift, open the room’s door and storm off, leaving it ajar.
Seizing his chance, Pacho ran for the exit, feeling like an idiot as he was running naked with his still half-hard dick flopping all over the place, and he crossed the room, the threshold and the small living room of the apartment. The entrance was already open and as Pacho looked back to Tloche’s room, he saw it was still closed. He saw a few giant females run past the door at what had to be 50 miles per hour or more. The din of the fire alarm and the people yelling, and running was incredible.
Standing just before the apartment’s door, near the doorframe as to avoid being seen or stepped on by passersby, he stopped in hesitation, as there was nothing his paltry strength could do to knock on Tloche’s door to wake her up, if all this commotion had not managed it. He also did not want to worry her and make her lose valuable time looking for him when she should be evacuating the building like everyone else… and if he stepped outside the girls’ dwelling he was going to be either spotted and captured or stepped on to die a bug’s meaningless death under the foot of a stomping hundred-tonne-plus random girl running in a panic.
As he dithered worrying uselessly on what to do, the decision was taken from him. He cringed as two giants, evidently males by their sheer bulk and height compared with the females he was acquainted with, walked in, the ground trembling under their weight. They were terrifyingly huge, especially with their red, loosely fitting uniforms of very thick cloth, clearly designed to protect the wearer and be highly visible and strange-looking helmet-masks of one piece of what looked like matte-black wood, heavy boots and black, weighty gloves. Firemen? First response workers? What worried him more was that one of them was practically dragging by the arm a wide eyed Jablo, who walked like a zombie, offering no resistance.
He was doubly worried as he looked on to see the other male drawing out from somewhere a wicked-looking truncheon made of a shiny red material, with even more wicked studs all over. The man tapped it ominously against the side of his leg, apparently aching to use it. Jablo saw the cudgel and she paled visibly. These are no firemen… thought Pacho, as he saw the men walk around with the swagger common to thugs everywhere
Then a tall, slender figure entered the room at a leisurely pace, with the graceful gait of a woman; she was dressed like the two males. A powerful woman, as the two men immediately, wordlessly made way for her in a clearly deferential attitude. Two more men entered behind her, spreading into the room. Pacho managed to see the woman look around and then she made an almost imperceptible signal towards the only door left closed in the apartment… Tloche’s.
The man with the club, the largest one by the way, walked to Tloche’s door and, quite casually, kicked it in and entered the room. Cantlutloche’s girlish yelp of startlement coming from inside the room brought Pacho to the chilling realization that all of this was for him and of his utter helplessness to do something for Tloche or to save himself. They are looking for me! They were probably spooks or policemen, and now his benefactress, the woman he had fallen in love with was in deep trouble because of him. From the conversations Tloche and he had have he knew if they found him it would go very badly for Tloche, and of course, for Pacho.
Realizing that there would be no case against his giant friend if no extraterrestrial geophysicist was found, but feeling like a piece of shit by deserting her, Pacho slipped out unnoticed, and started running down the hall, more or less blindly, thinking of getting to a corner where he could hide, feeling horribly exposed in the colossal and now empty corridor, just to be stopped in his tracks as a titanic woman came running up the hall with her shoes in her hand.
The woman, dressed in a short and tight mini-skirt, black hose to match and a white bodice-like blouse, spotted Pacho and jogged to a stop until she was looming over him. She had fiery red hair in a longish pixie cut, and her blue eyes regarded him flatly over the great swell of her prominent bust. She was clearly not happy to see him. He looked around for a way out but realized it was futile. As he looked back at her, his stomach dropped as he saw the woman quickly lift her right foot and the ominous shadow of a huge sole approached him from above, giving him no escape. The foot descended.