Humanity had achieved an era of prosperity. Violence around the world, on all scales and fronts, gradually quelled across generations of peace, an ongoing pride that could only have manifested with the breakthrough success of dimensional technology. It had been discovered and then developed upon, the science of creating tears in the very fabric of reality so that other realms could be reached; in these radically barren worlds, there were plentiful material resources to mine from, without an existing population of any kind to be taken from. Thus were the otherwise endless tensions over materials largely dismissed between the strongest nations, ushering an advanced age that reprioritized the needs of the people above military might.

These portals were inexpensive to create, permanent where they were made with only marginal upkeep costs. What any one portal could do for its community far outweighed any burden it placed upon it; more and more cities were eager to have portals nearby of their own, these huge holes of electric energy that could be seen from a mile away. Citizens looked forward to what world would be discovered and exploited next, what resources they would gather and how it would vitalize their economy.

That hope was at its peak as the latest portal was prepared to be opened. The gate, as it was referred to, was built in the hilly terrain found a few miles north of a major city, and surrounding its wide base were the machinations that would keep the expedition functioning. Warehouses and processing plants were built in advance outside the gate, and other facilities were established for housing the faculty that would manage the site. Long stretches of solar panels were linked together in the open, deforested plains, and with the sun beaming down on them with the heat of noon, it was the ideal time to activate the portal and proceed into a new, unexplored realm of reality.

Midnight -- plainly quiet, more so than usual. Another uneventful evening had gone by, and Rachel found herself awake only because she was not yet tired enough to retire to bed. She had lounged in her den and scrolled through social media for the past hour, comfortable in her sleep shorts and lengthy t-shirt, but ever anxious without something exciting to do. Her boyfriend was asleep upstairs, and no friends were online to keep her interest either. Idle where she sat doing nothing more than sipping ice water, she mused the idea of forcing herself to bed, fingers fidgeting at the tie that kept her dark hair back in a ponytail.

But before she could unwind any more than she was, a wicked snap of sound startled her into a gasp that splashed water onto her bare legs. Rachel looked over the couch and towards the door to the garage, from where she heard that distinct and sudden noise; at the same time, what few household lights were on began to flicker, if only for a second. Afterwards, the scene was as ordinary as before, but Rachel was still stiff in the corner of the couch, clutching the chest of her shirt while glaring at the door. In the air, she felt something resonating, akin to static clinging to her skin, and she swore that there was a low droning stemming from the garage -- something had obviously occurred.

Rachel waited a minute where she was, expecting her boyfriend to have been awoken, but he did not appear. Without him there, it was on her to investigate, which she took on with a skeptical sigh. She assumed that it was related to the circuit breaker, something more mundane than what her imagination came up with. Hesitantly opening the door, she remarked under her breath, “I better not get electrocuted from this…”

She had been prepared to see the inside of her garage cast in shadows like normal, with her vehicle in its corner, the walls edged with old belongings in cardboard boxes. What instantly took her off-guard was what glowed opposite of her, bright enough to make her squint as she hung by the doorframe. Shaped like a circle that hovered an inch off the ground, it appeared like a window in the air itself, its rim shaped nebulously with spikes of electrical currents occasionally surging around the outline. Whatever was on the other side -- a concept Rachel was still grappling with -- appeared distorted and dotty like an oil painting. Her eyes sparkled with wonder, worry, but most of all, curiosity.

“This is some sci-fi-type of stuff,” Rachel joked, gravitating up to the phenomenon. Her bare soles shivered on the concrete floor as she approached cautiously one step at a time. Initially, she ignored the grit of texture her feet laid upon, believing it to be dust or dirt brought in from outside, but larger, denser chunks popping beneath her could not go overlooked. After a noticeable crack was heard, Rachel reflexively lifted the offending foot and glared at the shadow-covered floor. “C’mon,” she groaned impatiently, “what even is this…?”

The ordinary that she expected to observe was once again absent. When Rachel turned her sole upwards thinking she would be brushing away a pebble or some trash, she instead saw three shard-like pieces pressed into the skin, stuck there like the actual grains and hairs were. Rachel scoffed, “Toys…?” It was her best deduction in the dark, that these were toy trucks she had accidentally stepped on. She grimaced, “So weak, though…”

Before she could lose her balance on the one leg, Rachel peeled apart one of the trucks, lowering her foot to the ground as to shake away the others. Pinched in two fingers was the flattened scrap of a vehicle; windows were shattered, tires were dislodged except for one hanging by a thread, and rising from the mess was a vapor. The realism was enough to stall Rachel as she looked it over, but there was something else to be found in the wreckage, a movement that bobbed weakly from the covered load of the truck. Rachel’s eyes widened as the crumpled doors were unwedged apart, revealing a diminutive human that strained itself to crawl out and onto the precarious cliff of a finger -- it was a survivor, a true living person barely left alive on the pad of her thumb.

In disbelief, Rachel neared her baffled expression close to her finger. The uniformed and injured figure shuddered beneath her stare, shuffling close to the totaled truck with nowhere else to flee. It appeared to dawn on him the exact predicament he was caught in, that he was pinched up by this behemoth of a person and lifted eerily close to her lake-sized eyes of green. She studied his frightened responses, how he was in shambles trying to balance himself atop the roundness of her thumb. When she blinked, the man flinched and cowered from her lashes, earning her a laugh she kept restrained -- for now.

That amused energy within Rachel inspired her to look back down at her feet. Her toes curled with excitement and a scoffed laugh was able to escape her lips, for surrounding her where she stood was a swarm of similarly-sized insects; multitudes of various vehicles, operated by dozens of tiny men and women outfitted all the same. In their panicked response to her arrival, the numerous crews of expeditioners had scattered away near-blindly across the garage, hurrying to make any distance away from her meteoric footfalls. Now spread all around her, Rachel could twist in any direction and see dots of them together in crowds, their speedy retreat translated to her as a sluggish attempt of getting away.

Lost in the confusion, a particular trio of trucks rushed between Rachel’s legs, passing under her body as though it were a sky-reaching arch. Others nearby would be caught along with them when Rachel cut off their paths with her wall-like soles, giggling as she awkwardly corralled teams into one cluster of vehicles and the expeditioners managing them. Surrounded by her feet, the belittled workers abandoned their vehicles and gawked upwards, straining to perceive the skyscraper legs for what they truly were.

The left foot was held high over their heads, taunting them with toes that twisted with excitement. Rachel bit her lip harshly; though she said nothing at the time, her mind raced with images of fantasy, all so vivid and colorful. Losing grip of her impulses, Rachel brought her foot down, moaning before it even made contact. Crunch -- the defeat of several trucks and their cargo, as well as the souls between them, sounded similarly to a crisp leaf crackling underfoot. From her bare sole ran a shiver of pleasure straight up her spine, causing her to gasp and smile wide as she looked down at the results. She had to muffle her laughter when she slid her foot back, revealing a skid of mangled metal and remains.

Not everyone had succumbed to that spontaneous destruction. Some had rushed away and dodged the footfall successfully, though even they were staggered by Rachel’s step and the tremor it produced. Tauntingly, that devil of a foot began twisting side to side, grinding what was under the toes into the flattest form it could be. These survivors despaired or fled desperately, but none had escaped Rachel’s notice nor her intent with them.

Rachel ducked down and giddily plucked up the remaining expeditioners, her marginal sense of care for them drastically dwindling into nothing. She carried them all in the grip of that same fist, maintaining the pinch-hold of a truck with her other hand; in moments, she had collected everyone of her interest, for then disregarding the masses that had spread deeper into the garage. Rachel had enough to satiate her, but the portal in her garage called for her, promising much more of what she had already taken.

She looked at her hands, her eyes welling up with the most pity she would ever shed for them. “You unfortunate little things,” she cooed into her palm, opening it so that the survivors could be seen. There was no organization in how they tumbled across the palm, the only unity among them being their overwhelming fear of their captor. After having demonstrated a sample of her raw strength, the survivors dreaded what she would do next, and Rachel was tickled to proceed. It was her decision that they deserved to know: “All of you have no idea how much I’ve wished for this.”

A smirk broke proudly between her flushed cheeks, her stare melting into a sultry expression. With the group innately captivated by that who held them, they watched as Rachel brought that pinch of fingers into view; they recognized the crushed truck as their own, as well as the paralyzed driver. It was made certain that they acknowledged him, just before he and his vehicle were consumed by a bite of lips. Rachel’s fingers slipped into her mouth, smoothly being removed to reveal her cleaned fingertips. There was no man, not even the truck; all eyes bent towards the motion of Rachel’s mouth as it clearly played with its food, making a show of it being gulped down. The survivors were paled by the horror they witnessed, sickened when the giant’s giggle rang like a bell to complete the tragedy.

Rachel admittedly felt silly for her act, but she had also never felt stronger. She breathed in, cherishing this absolute empowerment as she tread up to the portal. Ranks of expeditioners were broken apart as careless footsteps marched through the otherwise short distance, their destruction only serving as a bubble of entertainment in the back of the woman’s mind. She would not forget them, but she was driven to enter that portal, eager to discover the land from which these diminutive people herald from.

Without warning, Rachel dragged her tongue up her palm and between two fingers. Survivors in that hand were whipped into dodging the massive muscle as it bulldozed their lonely platform, easily picking up those caught in its path. They vanished, less than a snack that Rachel enjoyed as she stepped into the weird warmth of the portal.

“Sorry,” she said in an abrupt giggle. It was worth the apology, though she would not elaborate it to the people beneath her -- it was kept to herself, the terrible fact that she was a size fetishist invading upon a tiny realm.

A warm afternoon wind welcomed Rachel as she entered into a different world, paused by the miracle it was to have warped to somewhere so much different than her humble garage. It frightened her, truly, to no longer be surrounded by walls and instead be in the middle of an open field, a featureless and dry plain, except for the technology that encircled her. It took several moments and blinks for Rachel to move again, overcoming some teleportation-sickness before really delving into the details of this miniaturized landscape -- that which was beneath her went almost ignored, until a jostled step forward immediately crunched into something metal, but fragile. Breaking apart under the balls of her sole was a vehicle, so she realized after gripping the mangled thing into her toes and lifting it off the ground. Flattened like it was, Rachel could only assume it had been a truck, as many others similar to it were arranged around her, aided by heavier vehicles and tools. She balanced herself on the one leg as her stare of wonder was cast upon the setup; an excavation facility, fully-equipped for traversing dimensions and gathering mountains of resources.

But that grand mission was beneath Rachel, as all things in this world appeared to be. Her smile proudly heralded her obliviousness to their purpose; she saw only her fantasies painted in vivid reality. In the moments following her arrival, panic blew out from the expedition teams that had been awaiting departure. The crews behind the maintenance and operation of the portal reported a full-breakdown of procedure, imposed upon by a situation never before conceived -- they struggled to describe the event, stuttering over the fact that it was a woman, improbably huge and reeking havoc in just a set of pajamas. So many of the units stood by their posts in awe of Rachel’s baffling existence, but just as many took initiative to flee while they could, perhaps sensing the darkness behind the giant woman’s expression.

Rachel giggled in excitement, confirming where she would put her foot back down. A square plot of mining trucks was irresistible to her, earning the misfortune of her next step forward. With the initial truck still minced in her toes, she dropped her foot down on her target, crunching down on the vehicles and those too perplexed to dodge. The sensation tickled her sole, like bumps of sand flattening underfoot; the pleasure shivered up the bareness of her leg and up her spine, a ping of energy that absolutely encouraged her.

“Holy shit,” Rachel remarked, her fists clenching in anticipation. Laughter bounced in her chest, awkwardly difficult to contain -- she had rarely felt so hyped over anything. She took another joyful step forward, practically skipping into the next square of trucks, and then another. It became a march of destruction, each footfall harder and faster as she allowed her playfulness to take over unabashedly. It made no difference what horror she put upon the lives below, deaf and blind to their perspectives as they scurried through the designs of their own excavation plans, suddenly stormed upon by the thunder of a giant’s stomping spree. Before long, the main docking area of the portal site had been dashed through by a trail of specifically-shaped craters, left behind by Rachel as she happily continued outward.

It was unmissable: down a stretch of highway was the skyline of a wide metropolis, the high-populous city that the portal was intended to energize with its income of resources. To Rachel, it was a stroll away, and she was eager to reach it as soon as possible, dreaming ahead of what fun it would be to stand head-to-roof with so many skyscrapers. It made the portal site seem boring by comparison, an appetizer that she was already done with; she thought to terrorize the teams more, observing how they retreated into a grid of solar panels and the narrow pathways between them. When trying to count their heads, she quit with a laugh, realizing how little their lives meant, and thus she continued with as much haste as before. Her feet launched onto the power grid, carving her way through the generators regardless of how many were trapped in her trajectory.

The thundering of her approach resonated through the many residences in front of Rachel. The lone road from the portal bent into a highway that she followed into the rings of a flourishing community, the landscape cultivated around a colorful suburbia. Winding roads and cul-de-sacs made for peaceful imagery, but everything shuddered as Rachel rose around their horizon of trees and rooftops. The giant, just as she was described in the emergency broadcasts, was upon them sooner than any family could prepare; Rachel’s feet crashed into blocks of homes at a time, like a pattern of bombs dropped from the sky. She was fond of the flatness that instantly developed under one such step, satisfied enough to kick forward and wriggle the debris through her toes as if it were sand. A row of homes was no more, and the few survivors were noticed between her toes, completely blindsided by the bombardment of a woman’s foot. Deeming them insignificant, Rachel flexed her toes dismissively and jogged onwards into the city proper.

The unease that plagued the population had been calm and controllable; so many citizens crowded about in disbelief and uncertainty, some yet unsure if the reports could be trusted. It was a hilarious idea that their planet’s prosperity would be upended by one girl, out of control and loose from a dimension magnitudes larger than them. But when the quakes reached their buildings, when they could hear the booms of her footfall, when they finally saw the brunette’s tallness parading up the streets, all doubt was washed away. Everyone fell into the same panic, an uproar of screams that activated only when her image was revealed to them.

A wave ran through Rachel as she debuted into an outer district, an energy that nearly overwhelmed her. Countless perspectives from every direction were pointed onto her, and Rachel felt it, the sheer power of the population’s reaction. She had marched confidently into the metropolis, but upon entering one of the wider streets, her pace slowed and her arms curled inwards. The multi-lane road below was jammed with traffic, clusters of cars stopping and swerving in response to where her feet were decidedly placed; everything she did had a consequence, from how her heels shifted in the pavement, to how glass windows cracked against her lightest touch. The tiny world revolved around her, a daunting dynamic, but one that she had deeply dreamed about before.

Speechlessly, Rachel followed the flutter of her heart, which pulled her in the direction of a city bus stalled in the traffic. It started and stopped as the driver made sense of the chaos around him and his passengers -- a delectable target to begin with. Two strides forward, and Rachel’s heel slammed into the back of the bus, crunching the segment like one end of a soda can. Appropriately, the uncrushed-half popped upwards, an incline that spun the panicked passengers towards that exact collapse, but before they could leak out the doors or windows, the rest of the vehicle was caving in towards them. Rachel gradually laid flat the rest of her foot, the middle of her sole grinding the bus flatter and flatter, leaving only the frontward exit for escape. Even those that managed that far would only stumble into a hopeless shadow, unable to prevent the ceiling of a wrinkled sole from planting itself over top of them.

“Ohh,” Rachel gasped, covering her mouth -- a slither of embarrassment, emphasized by the widening of her eyes. She lifted her foot almost as slowly, bending it out of the way so she could see the results. The crowds nearby screamed at the horrific scene, but Rachel saw a wonderful painting of her own creation; in the footprint she made was the crumpled remains of a bus and the red color of its travelers. “Yes,” she pumped, “perfect…! Oh my god,” she laughed, glaring down at another bus farther up, “you’re next~”

The subsequent vehicle had only the time of one step to act. Rather than try to speed forward through the traffic, the driver abandoned the bus entirely, charging out the door much like his passengers. After having witnessed that example of her power, nearly all drivers on the road were leaving their vehicles and fleeing on foot, but the street was far too congested, and Rachel was far too big to escape from. Swifter than before, she stomped down on the bus, crushing it flat alongside the cars adjacent to it. A deeper crater was formed by the placement of her foot, a pit that caved into the underground subway systems, leaving behind broken shreds of the metal and pavement that had been there. Rachel admired her results, a content smile contrasting the horror held below, but so soon was she continuing her parade downtown, happily picking out targets with every footfall...

The architecture of the metropolis guided Rachel as much as it entertained her, providing her a sense of direction as well as fascinating obstacles to trample through. Ankle-high overpasses were either stepped over entirely, or crumbled under her weight; electrical wires and utilities snagged on her body, ripped apart from wherever they were connected. Rachel especially enjoyed the buildings, the only structures of this world that could rival her height or even surpass it. Her huge eyes glossed over the skyscrapers and their walls of windows, her interest perking at those with unique shapes -- but one nearby building, cube-like in its design, had earned her attention above the others.

Rachel’s hips bounced to the rhythm of her excitement as she followed the curved road to the front of a luxury hotel. The hundreds of guests within were made well aware of her arrival, with many marveling at the giant from their balconies. Cutting a corner by crossing through part of the parking lot, Rachel took position with her legs spread above the entrance. The allure of the building in particular was its rooftop courtyard, a square-shaped plaza sunken into the taller walls of the hotel with pools and bars for the guests -- but what Rachel saw in the design was a place for her to sit.

With her shadow spilled over the crowds, it was immediate that the rooftop occupants popped into a craze. Some clogged the doorways back inside, while others took to hiding behind pavilions or under tables. Rachel cherished the hectic scene as she turned around, her neck twisted with intrigue as her butt took aim. The round shape of her spandex-clad rear was on display for everyone to dread, suspended there with such effect that many stopped to stare in bewilderment. Rachel’s fingers gripped at her thighs enticingly, her lip was bitten, and in one thrust of movement backwards--

Crunch! Her ass was upon the roof, a tingle of satisfaction racing up her spine from where she had planted herself. Her legs visibly shivered with pleasure as she dwelled on the joy of feeling so much be flattened underneath her ass, this unavoidable demise for those that had been trapped there. As she nestled her butt into a relaxing position, she further grinded away the features of the plaza, her immenseness steadily breaking through the roof until it gave way with an exciting pop of demolition; the next floor, and the next below that, caved in under the relentless pressure. Sprinklers sprayed and emergency alarms wailed; hotel guests ran through hallways of flickering lights; destruction leaked down the many levels of the building, all for the sake of Rachel’s comfort.

“This has to be a dumb dream,” she sighed, reclining into the walls and resting her arms atop the higher rooftop around her. Her movements impacted those that were with her in the courtyard, the survivors along the sides that had avoided being sat on, but had no means to escape. They were trapped with her, so she realized. “I bet you guys wish it were… What do you think? Is this a dream?” The musings made to herself were nonetheless a warning to the people, invoked the most onto those her sultry stare pinned down. A swimsuit-clad woman tried to make a run from her thigh to an exit, but she was effortlessly pinched into the air, her limbs flailing like wheels. With her other hand, Rachel denied a similar escape to a trio of guests, walling them off into the bar they had hidden in. Yet another straggler was found between her legs, stuck in a swimming pool and simply awestruck by the supersized crotch in front of her.

Rachel brought the woman up to her eyes, closely inspecting her and the bikini she wore as though she were an object. The woman, someone at least a generation older than Rachel herself, was in a panic as she strained between the pads of her fingers, simultaneously trying to keep her top from coming undone. Rachel quite enjoyed the show, but the emotion that it stirred inspired other ways to make use of her newfound toy.

When the tiny woman, breathless and exhausted, resorted to bargaining hopelessly for her life, she was decidedly dismissed -- pocketed into the front of Rachel’s spandex. A scream for help was muffled behind the fabric and additionally smothered by the giant’s touch. A moan leaked from Rachel, who had hurriedly forced the woman into her pants on impulse, seemingly affected by the shame of her action. It did not stop her, however, from caressing her captive into the lips of her cunt, gently and gradually urging her into the pink within. The hotel guest squealed and squirmed, truly becoming consumed by the cunt no differently than if she were being eaten alive.

It was, in fact, substantially more humiliating to be used as a masturbatory toy, an inspiration that would spread onto the others at Rachel’s disposal. A lazy and steamed expression spiked into a grin as she decided to make use of the bar-goers, her slender fingers claiming the three regardless of how they dodged her. Two men and a hostess between them were examined once, then given purpose: dropped down the collar of her shirt, where the slope of her chest scattered them across her bosom. Rachel flinched into tickled laughter, feeling the minuscule hands and feet itching along her skin -- most credit went to the server, who found herself plunged legs-up in the giant’s cleavage. The men were bounced by the jiggling of her breasts, intentionally coaxed by the movements towards the nipples. Getting them close was well enough for Rachel, who sank into the sensation, digging her butt another floor deeper into the hotel as her knees quivered restlessly over the rooftop’s ledge.

Rachel was immersed in her comfort, but the sharpness of the sirens and the constant noise from the cars below kept her grounded in reality -- a reality that had plenty to offer. Red-cheeked and sweating, she chose to edge her arousal, to carry that energy elsewhere in the city. She exhaled committedly, then cradled forward to exit the seat she had made out of the hotel. Her arms crunched into the armrest-like roofs, used as support to barrel her bigness back onto the road. The rear of her spandex was stained with pool water and wreckage, but it was easily dusted off as she trailed away, leaving behind an ass-shaped impression that burrowed halfway down the crumbling building.

In tow with Rachel were her tiny passengers -- the people she had hidden under her pajamas. They were nearly forgotten like the playthings they were as she strode onwards into a denser part of the city, but they were fondly noted, keeping her warm and electrified wherever she went. Rachel thought little of anyone besides the bikini-clad woman struggling in her underwear; she imagined that perspective between her own thundering legs, the sweltering heat of her arousal, the viscous wetness she had produced and how every step worsened her situation. Meanwhile, the others were challenged worse by her walk, bounced between her breasts towards an inevitable fall, or otherwise destined to delve deeper into her cleavage, without so much as a bra to catch themselves onto. Their efforts, for however long they lasted, kept Rachel entertained while she lost herself in the city streets.

The dumb-grinning giant had stepped into a stage of attention: an expansive four-way intersection, loomed over by skyscrapers that were only heads taller than the invader. The clogs of traffic made for crunchy footsteps, her blissful wandering forcing the citizens to crowd the sides in a fever to escape her trajectory, if that were possible. The numerous businesses became bunkers, with their extravagant light-up signs and advertisements acting like beacons for those seeking shelter; the entire block popped with similarly flashy features that blinked light onto the giant, but what Rachel found herself captivated by -- striking her into stopping -- were the various jumbo-screens some buildings adorned, and the reflection of herself, the live feed of her own rampage.

Initially leery of this third-person perspective, Rachel rapidly warmed to the attention. She shuddered into herself, watchful of how the live feed was delayed and how amplified every detail of herself was. She touched up on where she thought her shorts were riding up and adjusted the frizzes around her ponytail, giggling to herself, “I’m such a mess right now…”

But her attention soon turned backwards, sharpened to where she calculated an aerial point of view to be coming from. Her smile flashed wider, her eyes beaming onto a yellow-colored news helicopter -- and after that delay, so too did the jumbo-screens showcase the giant staring straight at the viewers. The lower-angles of live feeds were shaken when their subject bounced back into movement, suddenly making a reach for the hovering vehicle with both hands. One news station was cut to static, its final stream that of a sole sweeping towards them, while surviving channels all shared focus on Rachel’s next intention.

“Don’t play so hard to get~” Rachel teased as she approached the helicopter, which had flown too close for too good of a shot. It reared back, but the wind was against the news crew, the lot of them screaming in unison as the shadow of a grasp enwrapped them. “Gotcha!” Rachel laughed, having successfully nabbed the chopper out of the sky and into a ball of both fists. The propeller grazed the skin of her hands, but with an upwards gesture, it was pathetically popped off, resisting no worse than a bottle cap. Rachel’s knees buckled in anticipation, eager to utilize the crew for her personal use.

Returning to the intersection, Rachel rose the helicopter up above herself, the cockpit directed at her how she would manage a camera for a selfie. Appropriately, her well-angled image was broadcast across the city -- and the wider world -- with the surrounding jumbo-screens offering a playback for herself. Nervous habits happened beneath her iconic smile; fingers traveled around her hair, her cheeks blushed and shied away, yet she hoped to highlight her best features, fixing her shirt to emphasize her chest, and raising her shoulders for a bolder stature.

“Hm-hm~ What do you think?” Rachel asked, her question prodding the news crew scrambling within the helicopter. “You were so interested in me earlier, so you must have an opinion, huh?” She chuckled as she brought the vehicle near to her eye so that she could see their reactions; huddled inwards for safety, Rachel had to twist and tilt the helicopter to shock them into movement, revealing the three-man crew from hiding. The slightest pinch in her grip was just the right pressure to break open a door, letting loose a passenger soon afterwards: a blue-dressed news anchor, barely hanging onto the exit from which she was ejected. She shrieked for help from her crew, but was saved unexpectedly -- relieved from the helicopter, but taken into the fingers of the giant.

Rachel’s stare bullied the tiny woman she now possessed, her fingertips sensitive to how she squirmed, then settled, realizing the fatal fall was still a factor. The process amused Rachel as she swayed idly in the streets, dizzying into immersion once more as she focused on the little life at her disposal. Her weight then leaned against one of the taller towers, an office complex full of workers that were ambushed by her mass pressing into the building’s corner. The windowed walls were shattered where her body broke inside, her hips proving especially destructive as they burst deep into four different floors. Executives and employees alike fled while her hugeness rested into the carnage, the shivers of her energy shared onto the structure.

The proud office building was just background noise to Rachel. She was fascinated more by the news anchor, of which she had complete control over between the pads of her fingers. She was especially interested in the tiny woman’s body, carefully feeling the shape of her features as she was spun around in the one hand. “You’re pretty hot,” Rachel admitted like a conclusion to her curiosity. “Lovely dress… and such cute tits, heh~” Fingertips weaved under the news anchor’s arms and openly groped her chest, a delicate pinch that was no less resisted by the captive but unable to be refused. Just as playfully did Rachel’s touch stroke down the lady’s sides, massaging her waistline and legs like a miniature doll.

“Yeah… You’ll get to live,” Rachel said -- an announcement that chilled her audience. Her persistent smile struck the news anchor into stillness. “Ready? Watch this, babe.” In a huff of confidence, Rachel brought the helicopter back into play, ensuring it first had the little woman’s attention. It was a scene observed by viewers around the world, the first-person perspective of the remaining crew being lowered to the level of her waist, then lower still, until they were positioned at her thighs. Those two pillars split apart to make a nook of an opening just under her crotch, and with nothing to be said, the helicopter was driven into place. There was a confused response from the crew as the walls of flesh consumed them on either side, casting them into darkness; their footage showed the fat gradually enveloping them, tight enough to keep the vehicle wedged in between.

The news anchor witnessed the performance in suspense, yet uncertain what the titan had planned, but certain enough that it would come at the cost of her crew. Rachel drew out the experience for a savory additional seconds, massaging her skin around the helicopter, settling it so that its roof was pleasantly against her perineum. Her back melted down the skyscraper a relative few inches, her weight shifting for one foot to cross over the opposite ankle, ever careful that her thighs never detached.

Then, to the tempo of a wink at her captive-- crack! A dense boom of smashed machinery, muffled behind pillowy handfuls of skin. Rachel withheld her moan, but the news anchor bellowed a howl of horror; like a toy, the helicopter had been crushed between her thighs. Biting her lip, Rachel continued to grind the remains between her legs, feeling the debris trickle down as everything twisted into scrap. Dazed by her own delight, Rachel reared her head back into the building and closed her eyes, allowing her thumb over the news anchor to stroke and stress her as it pleased.

Without warning, the giant brought her captive to her lips and assaulted her with a kiss greater than her entire body. The news anchor flinched into kicks against the affection, smothered not only by skin, but a spill of saliva that dotted her front. Rachel’s other hand resigned into her spandex, curling naturally into place; another kiss, messier than before, intentionally swamping the tiny woman with overbearing love and giggles. Another kiss, except when her hand was moved away, she no longer had the news anchor -- not between her fingers, but her lips, her black-stocking legs exposed and whirling around in a fluster. Rachel laughed at her struggle, and then with the tip of her finger against her rump, she popped her fully inside her mouth. Her tongue took over in wrestling the bite-sized body, washing it several times over in salivation, inspired by every scream and spasm -- and then, a conclusive swallow, finishing the woman’s significance off on an impulse.

Rachel gasped, suddenly feeling for her neck, that lump that traveled down her throat. Her hand quivered by her collarbone, as if making a regretful reach inwards to prevent the little human from disappearing. It was already too late, and after that second of emotion, the physical feeling was gone, melted somewhere inside her stomach, no more trackable than anything else she had ever eaten. Some part of Rachel missed kissing the news anchor, but so much of her was deeply fulfilled – and yearning for much, much more.

Returning to the present, Rachel’s hearing was rekindled to the cacophony in the building behind her. The noise of people was rocked louder when she finally undug herself from the structure, exposing the dent-like gash her weight had made. She turned to the damages, almost apologetically, but the masses intrigued her, their plights made viewable by the tear down the tower’s corner. So many dramatic scenes flickered like sparks from a fire in front of her eyes, but what mattered most to Rachel was quantity and convenience. She leaned closer, her hungry grin facing a pantry of choices.

“Don’t be shy~ I’m just taking you on a little trip,” Rachel teased as her hands grabbed either side of the fracture – pulling apart, she made the gap of destruction wider, and thus flushed the various colors of suits and collars out from hiding. Delicate fingers were precise in picking out victims from the cubicles and hallways, claiming a dozen at a time into the scoop of her palm; “All work has been canceled today~ Instead, everyone gets to leave early and have some fun with me~ Trust me, heh, okay?”

Rachel packed herself with people, unloading the first handful of her collection down her shirt, and shoving the second bunch down the front of her shorts. Greedily, she heaped more from the building onto herself, even as she was itching from all the different perspectives panicking across her body, all the ways they clung to her skin or drizzled down her form. She wanted more, but with the little amount her shaking hand then fetched, she chose to instead toss them into her mouth, downing them like pills she was hurrying to take and allowing them that much time to realize their fate. Rachel gulped, panted, and stared down the interior of the building – so quickly had the floors emptied out in the steam of her fun.

There was enough to satiate this craving Rachel had developed, and so was she drawn to the busiest location closest to her. She had noticed evacuees funneling into a strip mall, that which was divided by a long plaza for weaving through and between the various deluxe stores and the apartment buildings atop them. The road was crammed with people as traffic from multiple directions crossed into the walkway, presented to Rachel like a lively buffet.

The giant’s arrival had split the crowds into those that continued to rush forward with the greater mob, and those that diverted into the stores – if any had the space. Rachel was fast upon them, crawling into the narrow road as if it were a bed, and then appropriately rolling down onto her side, cratering the pavement with the giggling bounce of hopping on a mattress. The buildings closeby consequently shook, proving that none were safe if they were in her radius of shamelessness. Her hips rocked into the walls as she shimmied into comfort, her body twisting around atop those she had placed herself upon, adding them into the mayhem that she had strewn over her. A deep sigh vented from her as one leg stretched far down the strip, the other crooked over rooftops, a generous spread that made easy-access for filling her shorts with whatever citizens she was soon to grab.

“Y-Yes… M-Make yourselves useful…~” Rachel moaned, her tone becoming tense. Surrounded by the cries of hundreds, she was inspired to masturbate, every shiver of her pleasure inflicted upon the buildings and those hiding inside them. Blindly, she utilized the shoppers and salespeople, deciding on whims whether to dispense them tactfully over her wanting body, or to feed them to that very form, to feel them sprawl around her tongue and cheeks before tunneling them into her stomach. Enough had been taken that both hands were eventually free from the chore of caressing herself, her cunt dutifully attended by those she had sentenced there.

Sheer numbers, however, were not proving satisfactory – though nonetheless was Rachel fast approaching her conclusion. The grim fates she spelled for so many did not matter to her, but she still sought passion, a pang to feel deviously powerful, and the opportunity had then presented itself. Her fingers had netted a couple in love, a man and woman huddled into each other, keeping hope through kisses and strokes now that they were trapped in the giant’s palm together. Rachel’s arousal was breathed over them like a fortune, a hazy stare dreaming up an outcome for them.

“Y-You two… are kinda cute,” Rachel huffed, vocalizing for her own sake. She watched as they stumbled in her possession, falling over from the constant jostling of the greater, larger body. She chuckled, “It’s even cuter when you’re scared… Terrified of what I’ll do, e-everything I could do…~” Amusement tickled her almost as much as the endless skittering underneath her clothes, finding humor in how daunting every aspect of herself was, flaunted over an innocent couple. The pair was lured closer to her bitten lip, the tongue gradually exposed like some curious creature – the husband stood forward, shielding his wife boldly, then disappeared. Before the woman’s eyes, he was licked away, stuck to the wetness of the tongue and slipped between her lips.

But Rachel intended for more, devoting her attention to that thread of romance between her two captives. Hearing the woman’s shriek of horror, the bargaining to have him back, a laugh leaked from Rachel as she decided to play on that despair. She offered a slither of the man from her lips, her tongue controlling his position so that he was posed outward like a candy being suckled – it was very much happening to him, driving him into a wail. The wife, flushed by the development, reached out to retrieve her husband, straining herself in the giant’s palm in a vain effort to free him from lips that playfully prevented that. It was direct to Rachel’s pleasure that she felt that struggle between life and death occurring at the edge of her lips, an attempt made humiliating by how simple it was for her to end the drama. She pinched the wife, and with the slightest tug, broke apart their joined hands – another high-pitched shriek to please Rachel’s ears.

A show was made of the husband’s fate as he was visibly thrashed from cheek to cheek, made apparent so that the wife could see every detail. Behind Rachel’s smile was a nightmare playing out to its dreaded conclusion, and as the tormentor she was, she included the woman on that journey. As she swallowed the latest of her treats, Rachel pressed her captive against her throat, pinning her against the middle as her beloved traveled down the other side. The wife’s hands shivered madly along the skin, slapping it, scratching it – only to earn a hearty, satisfied, “Hahhh…~” exhaled from right above.

Having devoured something so valuable with a flip of her tongue had unleashed the fullness of what Rachel had hyped within herself. In a pulse from her core, Rachel twisted and kicked; she gasped into a long moan that blasted into an apartment wall like concert amplifiers, then barreling her orgasmic expression into that same building, gracelessly displaying herself in front of horrified onlookers. The rotation of her massive form sprawling out in sexual bliss caused the strip mall to be widened, her hips and knees bulldozing into businesses as a result of her tickled conclusion. Her countless victims, dotted around her sweaty skin like accessories, then endured the aftershocks of her climax, how her legs rose and clenched tight to a fading rhythm.

Rachel gasped again, rewarded with an enlightening looseness. As her huge and heavy breathing began to stabilize, she circled that traumatized wife around a nipple that stood firmly through the fabric of her shirt. The motion kept her spirit aflame, her thoughts drifting in and out of the fantasies she had lived out, and those which she still dreamed of doing. Warm in her own afterglow, she nestled around the ruined architecture of the strip mall, happily resting while survivors struggled beneath her. “Awesome~” she sighed, “now… what next, huh…?”

While cherishing the disastrous ambience she lay within, Rachel took notice of the wife again, hearing her whimper from being continually dragged up and down her tit. It was an electric memory, splitting the loving couple apart by devouring one in front of the other – she giggled, thinking of her own partner back home, an entire dimension away. A chill of loneliness bit at her; she had selfishly jumped headfirst into that portal, enraptured by the world she entered. She buried the wife into her bosom, a gesture of both guilt and longing which smothered the little woman as an afterthought. More importantly did Rachel think of Dylan and how to introduce him to this world – or rather, how to introduce this world to Dylan...

He was struck speechless when he entered the garage and saw it there in the corner, some glowing phenomenon that crackled with an electrical energy, a hole of distorted light that he dared not approach. He stood by the door, using it halfway as a shield while he contemplated how to proceed, yet unsure just how dangerous it could be. Rachel was the more forward one of their relationship, but Dylan was without her – he had been looking for her, realizing she had not yet joined him in bed, when he stumbled upon that surreal scene.

Dylan stepped into the garage slowly, his skin chilled by the concrete floor and the suspense of what he stared into – wearing boxers and a t-shirt, he was especially anxious by whatever the spectacle could be. Then, before he could get within reach, it rippled; Dylan blinked and backed away, expecting a surge of power to lash out and harm him. It was more baffling than what he imagined, that from the other side of the portal appeared a human – his girlfriend, exiting the strange circle of light without distress nor confusion, but a bubbly smile, a joy that spilled down onto that which she carried in both hands against her torso. Rachel looked her happiest, so zoned into her emotion that she had not yet noticed her partner was there to greet her.

“Rachel! Wh-What are– What is that?!” Dylan asked, his voice surprising Rachel into a gasp. He thought to pull her away from the portal, but her calm demeanor eased the worst of his worries. He approached her nonetheless with a hurry to know more, his shudder of skepticism accentuating his shortness under her, but all the same was his concern commendable. “Wait– did you come out of that?! Wh-Where have you been?! I-I’ve been looking– are you, um, eating something…?”

Rachel was guilty of exactly that, caught in the midst of swallowing something – and seemingly struggling to do so, tickled by amusement. “Dylan, oh my god,” she giggled over herself, stumbling over words when she finally had the chance to speak. She looked not to her partner’s eyes, but down at his feet, clearly interested in something but not yet saying what aloud. “Dylan, you’re never gonna believe– just look!”

Though there was a growing queue of questions, Dylan played along with Rachel’s direction. In the dimness of the garage, he could not make-out whatever it was at his feet, but his toes were sensitive to bits that they bumped into – like pebbles or chips, Dylan was initially thinking he would have to sweep, until he picked one foot up into his hand to inspect more closely. Having curled his toes around some of those bits, he then pinched one in particular to examine even closer, unprepared to conceptualize what he had obtained was an especially small model of some sort of vehicle.

Dylan wrestled that lackluster answer with a sense of humor. “Okay. That’s cute,” he chuckled, and motioned to what Rachel held: a line of train cars, also designed at that same miniature scale. It was impressive, if spontaneous; the two certainly had their interest in size-based fantasies, but of all moments to be presenting model toys– “Wh-Why, though? Rachel, can you just tell me what happened?”

But she insisted on playing, her heart skipping too much to simply explain. Rachel bit her lip, managing the train in her possession so that she had one car pinched between two fingers, which she then snapped off from the rest, claiming it alone in her giddy grasp. She looked into the windows, her smile blossomed, and she ushered it onto Dylan, making him hold it in his own hands. “Look! Do you see them…?”

Dylan would have complained under his breath, but when he did as he was told and brought the little train car up to his eyes, the doubt visibly fleeted from his expression. What he saw was a scene of real panic, pinched between his fingertips; tiny people, packed into a capsule-like train car, genuinely disturbed and horrified by their circumstance. He awed them just as they awed at him, though their many belittled perspectives were more volatile in their reactions, grappling with the extreme reality that their lives bordered on the whims of a man’s fingers. They hid themselves behind seats and under the windows, as if ducking away from that massive eye would help them. Their only sanctuary was their captor’s hesitation and wonder, that he was so astonished by what was given to him, he refrained from moving at all.

“This isn’t… real, right?” Dylan muttered, fearful of the warmth he felt inside himself. He chuckled, “R-Rachel–” But he was interrupted by her, his proximity invaded by his taller partner leaning in for a forceful kiss, an affection that mostly nuzzled his cheek than his lip. He stood his ground, allowing Rachel to move closer and use one arm to make an embrace. She spellbound him with a firmer kiss, holding him steady with his train car held between them – she locked his hand there, ensuring it would be submerged between their chests as they closed together. It disappeared for as long as they kissed; though safe behind the steel material of the train, the passengers inside were swamped by a hot darkness, haunted by two different heartbeats that drummed with growing intensity. Similarly was Rachel’s string of cars held loosely at their waists, likewise squished between their crotches as the couple connected, like some ordinary item idly held aside. Dylan remained solidified, absorbed into those tiny, unfortunate perspectives and the effect their helplessness had on him.

Rachel separated and gasped, still more activated than her boyfriend, but ever eager to share that excitement with him. She had gifted him a treat during their kiss, her tongue having passed along something Dylan only then recognized in his mouth, something writhing and alive. Shakily, he poked into his mouth and sought out the rice-sized soul; he felt the person plastered against his cheek, and then peeled them onto his fingertip along with an inevitable glob of saliva. It was a woman, dressed in black business attire, but turned graceless and drenched by the spit of two lovers. She struggled to hold her position on the finger, dizzied by her experience of being swapped between mouths, and further demoralized by those very titans towering above her with their judgements.

Before Dylan could speak, Rachel pounced – her lips lunged down at the finger, suckling the digit down to its base quickly, but making a slow, delicious performance out of how she rose back to the tip. Her grip was like iron around Dylan’s wrist, holding him as she left her own trail of saliva on the finger; that was all she allowed to be left behind. The business woman was gone, but Dylan found her when he glanced up at Rachel, her tongue exposed playfully with her victim seen sunken into the redness. If she had any life left within her, it was just a flinch of movement before being devoured, dramatically gulped so that Dylan was certain of her descent.

Rachel giggled late after feeling the woman fully drop, her train-holding hand used to rub her belly contentedly. That same hand, and those same people, then drifted to the plaid boxers Dylan had worn to bed, specifically the tent pitched out of the fabric. Dylan shuddered when touched, snapped out of a trance and lulled into a gentle embrace; a moan hissed from his lips as he became enamored with the train massaging his groin, how Rachel delicately utilized the several cars and its passengers as a toy of temptation.

The gap between them was closed again, but rather then seal a kiss onto Dylan, Rachel’s lips hovered to his ear. She whispered a plain question: “Upstairs?”

Dylan stuttered, then nodded.

The unknown was torture, and the ill-fated passengers of the train had only inklings of understanding as to where they were, and what they would be used for. Among the broken and bruised, the least-injured shakingly approached the windows of their car and scanned the outside world; they hoped to find a resource to rescue themselves, a path of escape, but what they saw was alien – a massive bedroom, as wide as a city district, decorated with proportionally gigantic things. They had been dragged from their regular commutes and into a different dimension, a reality where they were nothing more but playthings, and the playing was itching to start.

It began with a rhythm of metallic snaps, a steady pattern of train cars being ripped apart from one another. For each break, the passengers inside each car gasped into roars of fear, flung into panic all over again, but as Rachel did the dividing, it was as noteworthy a task as any mundane chore, easily picking apart the train until all ten segments were separated. One at a time, she took a train car and dotted it somewhere on the bedspread, leaving it and its pack of passengers in a sea of blue fabric. Each placement was strategic, at least according to Rachel’s racing imaginations, how she envisioned the chaos to soon unfold.

“Take those off,” Rachel commanded her partner behind her. Leaned over the bed like she was, she used her butt as a gesture for his attention; unlike how proactive she was, Dylan had been passive at the doorframe, waiting for a direction exactly like that. Rachel huffed, “Hurry! They’re starting to come out~” She shivered back with a widening grin, impatiently undressing herself down to complete nudity – she then stepped forward, back where she had been, empowered by the scatter of tiny people that were surely admiring her humongous, naked image.

Dylan was not so bold in his approach, nor as quick as his girlfriend. He felt too forward from the onset, his erection noticeable through his boxers and only growing harder – it was his fetish, too, but to actually be watching his girlfriend disrobe above dozens of tiny people on their bed was stunningly surreal. Where he hesitated, Rachel pushed, turning around and quickly pulling down on Dylan’s boxers, eager to expose him to that awestruck audience. Playful and steamy, they were nonetheless mountains in front of their captives, appropriately gawked at by crowds that trembled away from them, pitifully taking to hiding in the wrinkles of the sheets if they had the will and strength to act at all.

Intimidating was just their nude presentation, but far more impactful was the first of their movements onto the bed. Rachel’s cool fingers slyly took the sides of her partner and suggested him to the bed, overriding Dylan’s nervousness with a push that he was too loyal to disobey. He crawled onto the bedside, one knee rocking down and bending the plain to his weight, casting consequences to all despite his consideration to not directly step on them. While passengers were bounced off their feet amidst rolling train cars, Dylan continued over top of them, his shadow encompassing the sprawl of distress as he stood suspended on all-fours.

Once again did Rachel intervene, driven to ignite the fun to be had. Her hands slithered onto Dylan’s hips, one reaching around to his crotch in which to gently fondle. She gripped the firmness with a circle of fingers, a sensual stroke from the base to its head– then, without warning, she added herself to the bed, climbing over the edge and shoving her boyfriend down in the process. Whereas Dylan’s hugeness was slow and stoic, a lug of a behemoth that could be outmaneuvered for the moment, Rachel was radically active, her debut onto the mattress instantly stirring mayhem as she recklessly took a proud position. On her knees, she overlooked everything, including her own lover; she smiled at him lovingly, but her focus was unapologetically oriented onto those little people straggling around his body.

“Oh my god, they’re stuck–” Rachel began, interrupted by own amusement. She pointed down to Dylan’s crotch, a corner of his vision he barely had access to in his vulpine state. “They’re stuck under your balls,” she explained in a giggle, describing the simple struggles she saw. Indeed, some speck-sized individuals were unfortunate enough to be lodged under her boyfriend’s sack, with efforts being made by others to pry them loose from the giant genitals. Rachel nearly broke down in laughter, deciding to increase the humor; she gently fondled Dylan’s cock, precise in how she lifted his testicles and then lowered them back onto the people nearby, their squeals smothered under the heap of skin.

Initially, Dylan expected the sensation of tiny people under his balls to be itchy or bothersome, but rather quickly did he discover just how small they all were, their strained attempts of moving underneath him thwarted by his sheer weight. While dwelling on their awkward defeat, he was ambushed by an offering – something slipped into his lips by his girlfriend. Trusting Rachel, he allowed the object to reside there, concluding it to be one of the train cars. He could infer from her fascination that it was surely loaded with passengers, but the car itself was exhilarating to bite with his lips, that he knew with a pinch of force, he could crumple the vehicle.

Rachel sought something of that nature, leaning in close over her partner in a display that was especially striking to the dozens surrounding them. She exhaled over Dylan’s mouth, swamping the train car with an aroused breath that was intoxicating to her lover’s senses. Inside the capsule-like vehicle, passengers swarmed from one side to the other, fearful of both the giant that held them in his mouth, and the giant which had selected them, targeted specifically because they hid for too long. Either direction was hopeless, as the fate of their lives had already been decided.

For the meantime, they were teased to be left there between Dylan’s lips, an ornament to return to later. Rachel was more energized than ever, clawing up handfuls of people as she could while she positioned herself atop her boyfriend. Those that she netted were given only a glance of observation before given purpose; some were spread across Dylan’s chest and tangled into his hairs, others were drizzled over her breasts, and an unfortunate few were outright eaten like snacks. Between the inclines of their bodies, many of these tinies were fumbled where she otherwise wanted them, down onto Dylan’s lap – just as her own was prepared to crash upon it.

Rachel held her breath as she sank onto Dylan’s dick, drawing out the sensation of that beginning pump. She supported herself on her boyfriend’s shoulders, blissfully unaware of how much weight she pushed onto him, lost in the constant swirling of her thoughts. Sensitive to their situations, Rachel cherished the scatter of perspectives, smiling down at the various scenes responding to her claim over Dylan. His erection was undoubtedly impressive with its house-like height, but to witness it be absorbed into an equally gigantic pussy – a pink, oozing hole that descended from the sky – was to behold one goliath consume another. Emotions of disgust and anger towards the meeting of genitals all led to despair and humiliation, that they were just toy-like additions to enhance the sex of two uncaring giants, and worse yet were they threatened to be crushed between their embrace, a wave of their pubic musk forewarning that conclusion.

That introductory mount had already proven perilous, but Rachel shivered in a desire for much more. The prelude was over, and so Rachel bounced into motion, small moans pushed out from her as she developed a satisfying, accelerating rhythm. Dylan was rocked into her method, but the bouncing effect was tremendous to their plentiful additions; both partners watched as they stumbled and fell in the land of skin and sheets, sharing amusement over their dismay. They became mired in sweat, or worse for those swamped in their pubic hair, the wetness of their performance soaked into the countless threads and creating an inescapable obstacle for those knotted in their bushes. Any that took to hiding in the tipped-over train cars were setting themselves up to be handpicked, inevitably taken into Rachel’s possession and either dispensed onto a giant, or devoured in a rush of a swallow.

It was after crushing one such train car, having emptied its occupants into her gluttonous mood, that Rachel remembered that which she had set aside between Dylan’s lips. The shuttle was still suspended there, kept there as Dylan had been instructed; deserving of an update, Rachel slowed herself and peered into the train. Though having been largely uninvolved, the passengers within were no less harassed and ridiculed, enduring unreal conditions ranging from the ceaseless shaking to the overbearing humidity brought by Dylan’s heated seething. His tongue had broken through one of the exits, flooding the back-half of the shuttle with saliva and threatening to submerge any that slipped his way – a fate they thought they could avoid, bunkered in the rows of seats, until that fate was tempted with a touch against the opposite side.

“Eat up~” Rachel hummed, though strict enough to still be an order. A soft but quivering finger delicately lifted the train car from the side pointed at her, inclining its passengers towards Dylan’s throat. “They’re delicious~ God, heh, I-I’ve had so many… Y-You just can’t stop…!”

Rachel’s management had successfully sunk one person out of the car and into Dylan’s mouth, as signaled by his brightened expression of surprise. She giggled at her boyfriend’s reaction, twisting the train playfully between his lips and stroking a finger down his neck encouragingly. Dylan choked slightly, but committed, swallowing hard on an unfortunate soul. He gasped, and the train fumbled from his mouth; it crashed into his collarbone, then continued down his chest, careening into tinies that had been fleeing in that direction. Stragglers still trapped in his mouth were then subject to pursuits of the tongue, sought out like crumbs caught between his teeth – and then the trouble multiplied, added onto by another tongue, his girlfriend’s that was just as hungry. Between the two monsters was no chance of survival; people were wrestled between the tongues and divided between the couple, their maddening cries overpowered by a competition of moans.

“Right? Right?” Rachel laughed and nodded, her fingers fast with loving touches over her partner, rewarding him for his devouring. “Addicting, huh?” Her forehead was rested onto his, their bodies stopped for the moment, intentionally allowing their glory to glow – for their collection of people to stabilize wherever they were, and gawk at their terrain-like form, how their hips connected in a spine-chilling presentation. They were a young couple thrust into sex, but they knew they were so much more, that they were mountains among mortals, free from consequence, blessed with a divine privilege to use these people as they craved.

She was not alone, seeped into that fantasy. Dylan, too, was now enamored with his giant status, his attention drawn to the first victim he could find. It was a tan-suited man glazed on top of his girlfriend’s nipple, clinging ferociously to the skin that was angled against him, kicking at the tit in desperation. Rachel had hardly noticed him, but Dylan focused on the speck with a glare of passion; he repositioned on the bed, leveling himself with his partner, and groped her breast so that the individual was surrounded. Terror ran through that diminutive body, suddenly realizing that he was a target. He scrambled to get away, racing up towards Rachel’s neck as if that were any salvation– a useless attempt when Dylan’s mouth abducted him. A soft nibble of a bite, a ticklish end to the scene Rachel enjoyed watching, followed by a gulp that was just as satisfying to hear.

Rachel meant to comment, but Dylan rushed her backwards, quickly claiming a top position. A wildfire had been ignited in him, the likes of which Rachel had no comparison to. He was spontaneously fierce, confidently aligning their waists and admiring their writhing additions; he laughed at those pitifully impressed into his girlfriend’s skin, the sweat of their romance plastering them in beautiful locations.

It empowered him to have this audience witness his drop into his partner, his pillar-sized shaft starting a sequence of earthquake-like shivers all over her landscape body. A moan bellowed from Rachel as she reached around Dylan’s shoulders, grasping him in a tightness that kept his rhythm compact and deep. Lustful hands grabbed not only at each other, but at the tinies decorating their bed and bodies, greedily applied with only enough tenderness to keep them alive. They were poked into mouths, smothered under breasts, or directly fed to their crotches, sacrificed to behemoth body parts that were swelling soon to a climax.

“Hah, s-slow down… a second…~” Rachel whimpered, discovering just how breathless their engagement had made her. Dylan obeyed and restrained himself, gladly giving all control to his girlfriend as she shifted out from under him. She fingered herself, an act that still drew out terrified reactions from those tangled in her pubic hair; they were ignored as she searched within her wetness for something– someone particular. Their body had been excellently placed to please her, kicking spiritedly to her amusement. Rachel had a suspicion, and it was confirmed when her fingers retrieved the drenched mess of a bikini-clad woman – a character she had stolen from the luxury hotel, recognized immediately for that mature, bountiful body.

“H-Huh? Wh-What’s with her?” Dylan asked, still catching his breath, reddened with anticipation and impatience. He could still joke, “That a friend?”

“Sort of,” Rachel giggled. She dangled the woman between them by a leg, her whole body hung with limpness, but notably still squirming. “God, she’s been through a lot~ How has that itty-bitty swimsuit stayed on this long, huh? Hehe~” She jostled the woman into flailing and shouting, a pathetic scene that pushed the edges her and Dylan had left themselves on. “She’s cute, right? Here, you can have her~” The woman was then draped upon the head of Dylan’s cock, tapped and stuck into a trickle of precum. Dylan’s hugeness shuddered from the sensation, already at the precipice of release, an approach made more imminent when Rachel leaned close to his dick.

Rachel prodded the little body delicately, less concerned for her health than she was of making Dylan comfortable. She poked the woman’s ass with enough force to massage her body against the tip, swirling her in that viscous juice that continued to leak. Opening her mouth, she audibly released a breath over the cock and its rider, providing a provocative warmth down the sensitive shaft. It had the desired effect as Dylan jittered, a hand catching her by the shoulder as a means of support, preparing for that inevitable break–

“Ggh– Haah!” Dylan grunted with his head reared back, his hips propelled forward aggressively, a posture controlled by the impulse of his release. Rachel received his orgasm, her mouth catching the load as it kissed into the head as though it were a spout she were sealing off. Her laughter buzzed into Dylan’s core, the last spurts of his seed suckled out from him by the devious dance of her tongue. Rachel licked and swallowed the gushing flavor, but she was careful of what she ate, making sure to locate that lump of life that was the bikini-clad woman and pinning her somewhere to be stored.

Both partners collapsed rightwise into bed, shivering under the chills of their sweat and itched by the crowds their bodies continuously rolled over. Overwhelmed, Dylan stared upwards in a trance, recollecting everything that had occurred, finally in the mindset to try and process the reality Rachel had introduced him to. He felt the deep pit of his own actions, struck with the sickening responsibility that he had been feasting on innocent people from some other world, forcing them into becoming highlights of their graceless sex–

He looked to his girlfriend, wondering if she were plagued by similar worries, but found her giggling and quivering where she was nestled beside him. Rachel was continuing to torment that bikini-clad woman, binding her victim in some demeaning game; she was held by a precise bite of front teeth, her lower-body harassed by a monster of a tongue. The muscle was blind, but eerily precise, manipulating the little legs into allowing it entry between them. The woman shouted in unreal gasps, squirming painfully between the edges of teeth, resisting the perverted intentions – until she could no longer, pressed into an otherworldly orgasm that hung her weak and exhausted. In the peak she was rushed into, she remembered the endurance of ordeals, how her vacation was obscenely interrupted and warped to where it was.

Rachel, too, thought of that journey as she masturbated furiously to that very misery. Then, synchronized with her own chilling orgasm, her lips closed – as did her teeth. A petite crunch -- Dylan flinched, thinking he imagined the scene, but Rachel was indeed chewing her victim, for as minimally much she could be chewed for. Rachel melted where she lay, her spasms of euphoria felt by all those still lingering along her body and the bedsheets, dwelling deep on how far she took that unfortunate woman. Gone forever, there was an ounce of regret, but it was a whimper against the roar of her fantasies, the awareness that she had a wide world of replacements waiting for her return.