Pacho woke up groggy and disoriented, and in almost total darkness. At first, he did not know where he was, and he could only feel a vague sense of unease. He lay there for a while, trying to order his thoughts. The air was stale, smelling of wood, paper and other things related to stationery. Closer, there was a also a strange, flowery smell all over him and in the mattress he was lying on top of. His eyes were gummy, and he felt also uncomfortably gummy behind his ears, between his fingers and other crevices of his body. He craved a warm, long bath. His ribs hurt. His left shoulder throbbed. His leg itched.
The next thing he noticed was his total nakedness, which was not unusual for him, as he used to sleep like that when the nights were warm, and it was warm, almost uncomfortably so. Slowly the images of giant women and all that had transpired in the last day started to come to the front of his mind, and he fully acknowledged that, as ludicrous at it seemed, it was not a dream.
His quest for understanding stratospheric phenomena like red sprites had payed off beyond his wildest imaginations. He had always suspected that there were magnetic phenomena associated with sprites and now he knew first hand that these phenomena did occur. He managed to model when they would take place. But never would he have thought that one of the consequences of these anomalies could be translocation to other realities. Because that is what had to have happened to him… the plane he was in, and the crew. Giant people, talking in unknown tongues and with unrecognizable script, judging by the magazine he had been shown.
I cannot go back. The realization hit him like a kick to the teeth. He was in a world that was very similar to 20th century’s Earth. There were cars around, but rather rustic personal electric appliances. He did not remember if there were light bulbs or switches around, but they probably were. The girls that caught him had no cell phones, or other personal electronics like cameras or such, besides the radio. He also saw no phone, but as the blonde giantess Peteh had gone outside the apartment to call the police, there probably were similar devices in a common room or public ones outside the building.
But here, there were likely not space flights yet, and even if they were, getting into one would be next to impossible, not to mention doing that at the right time and then steering it towards a vortex like the one he came here through, on his own. Even if he could somehow work the controls, and he doubted he could even climb to the cockpit seat or the dashboard, he was a physicist, not a pilot. He would have to convince someone to help him. And even if he did, how could he know if going through the anomaly again from this side would get him back where he came from? He could land just about anywhere, including in deep, deep space, or a barren, uninhabitable planet, to starve or suffocate. Even worse, should he be certain he would be back on Earth like that, should he inform a planet of powerful, giant beings, where to find a planet of tiny midgets, probably relatively easy to conquer?
On another note, the sanitary facilities he had glimpsed were unfamiliar, vaguely similar to Eastern-type toilets he had seen when studying abroad in India, little more than a kind of trench in the floor with running water, trench you straddled to do your business.
The ethnicities were mixed-up, as evidenced by Peteh odd-colored skin and eerily, ‘unnatural’ (probably quite natural in this world, though) yellow eyes, and the blue-eyed redhead Soprano, as on Earth, his Earth anyway, redheads usually had green eyes, or maybe brown, but he had never, ever, seen a blue-eyed one.
And there was Cantutloche, or Tloche, as the other girls called her. Maybe he found her more attractive because she was the most ‘normal’ of the three, at least on the outside; she was not just pretty, but truly stunning. But she was also not a conventional woman, as first demonstrated when she had found him with her penetrating gaze. Most people did not look up; he doubted the other two women would have discovered him.
Tloche was incredibly brave, resourceful and kind. She had protected him, even if in a very unusual plan that she came up with quickly. And he had seen her in all her glory. Up close and personal, from her own volition. From the beginning she took charge of the situation and of him, going against her friends: she even put aside modesty to shield him, though clearly embarrassed, and quickly invented a diversion to prevent a more thorough search of her person.
And therein lied the problem. She was smart, powerful, strong-willed. There is no escaping her. I am now the pet, the toy of a giant woman. He could not deny the intensity of her eyes when she looked at him. There was compassion in those big, black, bottomless eyes, deep pools of resolve indeed. But there was also an undeniable possessiveness there, a fixation. She clearly had no intention of letting him go. And indeed, escape where?
That little incident with the local constabulary had proven he was not likely to be warmly received by just any giant. He could be stepped on, even inadvertently, very easily by anyone, as he was mostly stuck being at ankle-level. The police dog he had seen was as big as many elephants. If he was caught by just about any animal, he was unlikely to survive. Naked and weaponless as he was, even a rat or a bird could bite or peck him to death without breaking a sweat, not to speak of wasps, bees or who knew what else that this accursed world had evolved.
He shuddered at the thought of being found and grasped by a giant, naked man, lumbering and coarse, instead of being caught by a dazzling, nude Cantlutloche. Indeed, it could have been A LOT worse, as it likely had been for those others that were in the plane with him… he did not want to think about them, as there was nothing he could do. Trying to dispel these thoughts, he stood up and started groping around, finding a few things, unrecognizable in the dark. There were long paper things, probably envelopes, thick, heavy glass vials that smelled of ink and other unrecognizable scents, metal blocks, long, thin cylinders wrapped in cord. These things, and the thin slice of light above, made him deduce she had stuck him in a desk drawer.
The sliver of light was interrupted in the middle, which indicated a locking tab was in place. Probably locked for other giants, as even if unlocked, he had no hope of sliding open the hundreds of kilos of heavy timbers (plus contents) of the drawer on his own. Whatever the reason, it was but another reminder that he was no longer a free man. How long had he been inside here… and how long will I stay inside this drawer, like a trapped mouse?
Long minutes passed. Then dozens of minutes. With nothing to do, getting increasingly afraid, thirsty, hungry, angry and uncertain, he found himself going over his giant warden on his mind. She stuffed me in her vagina. He kept recalling the disconcerting situation he would not have imagined ever to be in, not in a million years.
The bewildering perspective of looking up, which was really down, at her dainty feet, so far below, his face being surrounded by the fleshy, musky flaps of her labia and her pubic hair one handspan long all around, her juices flowing all over him, all these things enveloping him in the smell of woman…
How deep she was… how she pushed him out. He did not remember how they had made it back to her room.
Pacho remembered how he had lied in her hand as she cleaned him afterwards, him barely conscious, seeing giant, nimble and beautiful, womanly fingers run all over his body, and holding his head, her eyes intent above, her hair cascading around her face, almost reaching him, how she frowned impatiently and tucked strands that got in the way behind her lovely ears as she cleaned him. He found himself wanting to see her naked again, at leisure, having time to scrutinize her as he had been examined atop the table. To touch her and be touched. Thinking this, at some point he fell asleep atop the towel
He awoke startled as light flooded in. Cool, giant pale fingers scooped him up unceremoniously, all five pressing softly all around his torso from over his head and lifting him, to be deposited carefully atop the table. He stood there, covering his crotch with both hands, as he looked up at a wet-haired Tloche looking him over keenly. Is she going to keep me naked all the time? She smelled rather strongly of soap, clearly just out of her bath. She practically irradiated freshness.
After a brief scrutiny, noticing he was uncomfortable, she blushed and reached behind him on the table. Pacho tried not to stare at the 6-meter-wide hips of Cantlutloche, her thighs and especially at her crotch right in front of him, or a giant breast looming closer as she extended his arm above him. She was dressed in short white pants and a tight-fitting white off-shoulders top, with no cleavage. Nevertheless, her perfectly shaped torso and very protruding breasts were equally difficult to keep his eyes off.
Tloche produced from behind him and delivered a small bundle of purple, velvet-like fabric into his hands. Puzzled, he unfolded it. It was a small pouch, of the type used to put in small jewels and like stuff, like earrings, complete with matching string around the mouth to close it. Tloche had cut two holes on the sides of the bag. Pants? He tried them on, slipping a leg on each side hole. They more or less fit, although of course the color and the look were less than manly, and the fabric was comparatively too thick, but at least it was not coarse. He looked up to see the giant woman cover a smirk under one shapely hand, eyes sparkling. He was tempted to frown and sulk, but as he looked into those big, innocent eyes, he just could not do it, so he simply threw his hands up in defeat. Booming laughter ensued. When she calmed herself, she indicated, behind him, a small dish with berries, some unfamiliar pieces of pastries and some minced vegetables, complete with water in a bottle cap.
****
Cantlutloche ate and watched in quiet amusement as Paah-tshoh fed himself with his little hands, eating with an appetite that belied his size, sitting beside his dish and taking enormous (relative) bites out of everything, like a tiny caveman. Despite her apparent calm, Tloche was very worried. While on the kitchen and on the way to the library, she encountered several women of her boarding house who intercepted her to ask about the patroller raid. Fortunately, not one of them had the slightest inkling of the reason for said raid, but surely the University’s dean had already been informed.
She would have to come up with a plan to hide Paah-tshoh somewhere. Classes would start soon, and the weekend was also over. Tomorrow she had to go to her job in the library, and she could not let the little man locked in a drawer all day, entirely on his own. She had been worried sick for the hour or so that it took her to shower, go to the library and back, to the kitchen and back at her room, time in which her protégé was all alone in the dark, probably terrified. He will have to be with me at all times from here on… she pondered. No other way. It’s just not safe for him to be in my room alone, and that is the safest place I can think of. Outside, even a stray cat could end him.
She winced as another cramp stabbed her. Annoyed, she realized her period was coming, confirming what her loose and gassy bowels had hinted at earlier, before getting into the shower. She had kind of lied to Jablo about having her period when she invited her to a double date a few weeks ago, so she left her alone, because Tloche was not in the mood to go anywhere. Having her period and being gassy was not exactly a winning combination when being forced to be in a narrow room with a man one fancies. And I do fancy Paah-tshoh, she realized, baffled.
The little man was definitely a looker, fit and oddly confident. He seemed to take his definitely unusual and disadvantageous situation in stride. He did not sulk nor cower. And he trusts me, despite… She decided she would be worthy of that trust from now on, as before she had acted on impulse… rather selfish impulse, claiming the intriguing Paah-tshoh as her own, gawking at his nakedness, fondling him as he lay helpless… and going so far as to use him to kind of get off…
She was not entirely sure her plan to hide Paah-tshoh inside her was not a subconscious way of fulfilling long-forgotten fantasies. It probably was, since she had definitely enjoyed making him touch her, and right now she was craving for a repeat performance. Just thinking about having Paah-tshoh warm, firm body rubbing… Stop! Let’s just be thankful he did not seem to take it against you… no way that’s gonna happen again. But even as she thought this, another part of her mind was plotting to cajole and seduce him so next time, and soon, he would be going where she wanted him to be… where he had already been so welcome… and she hoped he did so not only willingly, but begging to be let in.