I think most people have their “one that got away” story, right? That person you always thought you should have made more of an effort with? The person you liked, and thought liked you back, but you were simply too scared or too insecure to do anything about? The person you let go of too easily. You know the person. Usually people say things like “plenty more fish in the sea”, or “you’ll find someone else”… Well rubbish, I say. Let me tell you about my one that got away, Alma. Because I can assure you right now, there are certainly no other fish like her.

So, a bit about me first of all. My name’s Aristhenia. Yes, that’s my real name. No, it’s not a proper girl’s name, and no, I don’t know how you’re supposed to pronounce it. My parents were kinda weird. Hippies, I guess would be the word. Maybe wackos, if you were feeling less generous. In fact, all the parents of the kids at my school were a little out there.

I was sent to an all-girls boarding school from the ages of 9 to 18. It wasn't a religious school or anything like that. More sort of an off-the-grid school. One that anti-establishment nut-jobs like my parents send their kids to if they want them far away from the prying hands of the government, or god-forbid, child protective services. My parents were fairly typical clients for that school, and although I never properly met them, so were Alma’s I guessed.

So, if it wasn’t obvious already from context, I’m into girls. You may think that’s unsurprising, seeing as for most of my upbringing I lived in an all-girls school, surrounded by exclusively female teachers and female staff (yes, really, not a dude in sight for nearly 10 years of education, if you can believe that). But the idea that all of that was what made me gay? That's a cliche. There were pretty much zero other lesbians in my whole graduating class, as far as I know. Not ones out of the closet anyway. Sure, maybe that’s unfair, I didn’t exactly broadcast much of this myself when I was there. But who knows.

Anyway, it sounds like we’re getting to the central tragedy of this story, right? Was Alma a lesbian too, I hear you ask. Well, I am sad to say that I cannot even answer that question, because to this day, I still don’t know. Yep, if you’re expecting some steamy teenage romance, then you may as well stop reading now. This is a tale of pathetic adolescent yearning and unrequited love. And before you switch off, just hold on a second. Because this story isn’t really about me at all. The best is yet to come. I haven’t even introduced you to Alma yet.

I joined the school at the age of 9, and Alma was in the same class as me from the beginning. There was only one class per year group at my school, so we were told very early on that we'd better get along, us twenty or so girls, because we would be each other's constants for the rest of our school careers.

During most of those early years, from the ages of 9 to 12, you couldn’t really call Alma and me anything more than classmates. Neither of us was in the crowd of popular rich girls who quickly discovered each other, but neither were we in the background either. We kept to our close-knit circles and would occasionally chat if we ended up together during some group assignment. During that time, I can remember just thinking that this quiet half-Spanish girl with long wavy black hair and deep olive-coloured skin was just another student. A bit shy and reserved, sort of how we all were in those early days, but certainly a nice girl nonetheless.

As the years went on, I tried to get a couple of friendships with other girls off the ground, but I struggled to make any of them stick. I don’t know what it was, but something about me always seemed to become distasteful to people after a while. Gradually I fell down the popularity ladder until, by the age of 12, it’s fair to say I had turned into a bit of an outcast. Someone who neither had friends, nor really wanted them.

Now don’t bother pitying me; I was not miserable in the slightest. I was always a bit of a misanthrope, a girl who had enough fun in her own company to not really want for anyone else's company. It was certainly better than engaging in mindless chit-chat, I used to tell myself, the sort of rolling school gossip that all the popular cliques seemed to obsess over. Funnily enough, that was one of the things that struck me first about Alma. Although we were never close, I always thought she seemed a little like me in her disregard for the opinions of others. Like me, she had no patience for thoughtless chatter: either have something interesting to say, or shut your mouth.

I’m approaching our teenage years now, and you may be able to guess what comes next. Big surprise, it’s puberty. I get that puberty is probably a big deal in mixed-education schools---what with all the hormonal boys and girls running around spreading their cooties---but believe me, it’s a big deal in an all-girls school too, just for different reasons. First came that age-old competition of who got their period first. Then the next week it would be comparing body hair, and the next seeing whose hips were widening the most. But none of those contests were as crucial as the championship bout: boobs. People often ask me how I first realised I was gay. And I don’t know if living with twenty girls all sprouting boobies at the same time does it for other ladies, but it certainly did it for me. You could say I had quite a hard time concentrating during those years as I slowly became conscious of not just my sexuality, but probably more importantly, a worrying penchant for boobies.

So where am I going with all this? Well, let’s get back to Alma, as she is the only important person in this story. Right, so you know how in every class, there is always that one girl who develops waaay before everyone else? Well, in our school, that girl was Alma. She had already gotten a reputation as an early-bloomer years earlier after enjoying a pre-pubescent growth spurt well before the rest of us. But that was in no way the end of it.

I still remember the morning it all changed. Alma rocks up to our first lesson of the day, no fear, no hesitation whatsoever, with a couple of handful-sized lumps sprouted as if by magic on her chest. The class was rightly intrigued by these overnight developments, but noone more than me. I was captivated the moment I saw them. Who knew what I was supposedly being taught the rest of that day, because Alma’s new additions didn’t leave my sight for a second. You know, I cringe now at the thought of what a creep I was at first. But please believe me, I did eventually figure out how to be more subtle. Alma, for her part, bless her, never said a word about it. Not about my staring, not about the ogling and gossiping of the rest of the girls either. It was obvious she wasn’t ashamed of her boobs, but it didn’t really seem like she was especially proud of them either. They were just there. As was already her character by that age, Alma had this sort of blasé attitude when it came to her body. She gave the impression that she didn't regard herself in one way or the other, that whatever happened to her, happened.

Anyway, Alma’s chest was a popular talking point at the school for well over a year before the rest of us started to catch up. Naturally, as time went on, all of the girls in my class started to develop. A few of them started piling on pounds, some got ugly, some pretty, some of them shot up like rockets into the air, and the unlucky few, like yours truly, stayed a miserable five-foot runt for the rest of their lives. As for my boobs? Well, there was never, and still isn’t, much to talk about in that department, so back to Alma.

Over this time, as the rest of us slowly became women, Alma continued to benefit from that little head start. In the months after the first appearance of her boobs, she traversed cup size to cup size. The girl was growing before our eyes at an alarming rate. A common situation Alma would endure during those early months was the popular crowd cornering her in the mornings to get updates on her bra size. It must have driven her mad, but Alma, to her credit, would always answer straightforwardly and honestly. I was glad for her candour, because those updates enthralled me more than anything I was learning in class.

Alma reached a D cup before most of the class had even put on their first training bra, and though you’ll think I’m exaggerating now, believe me when I say that things only got more rapid from there. Only months after filling up what we all thought was the unthinkably huge size of a D cup, Alma was claiming letters like H, I and J. By the time my little bee stings came through, Alma was already well beyond the largest bra our school had spare in its wardrobe. Then one morning, Alma responded frankly to the girls, that the school was now arranging to have her bras ordered in from outside.

So how did I react to all of this? Well, as you can probably guess, it drove me absolutely wild. I mean, to my 13-year-old eyes, those things were huge. And in reality, they were! Alma was a very slender, quite athletic young woman. A girl who loved the outdoors and was by all accounts very active. A slim young girl like that with knockers the size of her head does not go unnoticed. Especially not by me, a budding lesbian with a now unmistakable fetish for huge breasts. I hope I’m getting across just how drastically this girl was altering my impressionable young brain.

I think everyone at that school assumed that Alma’s maturity into womanhood would probably come to an end pretty soon. Early-bloomers exist, but sooner or later everyone ends up at the same place, right? Well... that’s not quite what happened. Oh no, Alma’s body was far from done.

Soon, clothes started to become a more pressing issue for her. The constant need for a new bra was one thing, but it was the school uniform that caused Alma the most problems on a day to day basis. Our uniform was the one you would imagine it to be: white button-down blouse, thigh-high chequered skirt, and black socks; a tie too if you were in that sort of mood. The code was not strictly enforced beyond that, but open buttons around the chest, or god forbid, cleavage, was certainly not allowed. Unfortunately, double K-cup jugs and a button-down blouse do not mix well. As a result, Alma was by far the most frequent violator of the school uniform code.

Now, don't get the wrong impression. Our school was not one of hard-knocks. It was a new-age school for hippies remember, people who didn't believe in grades, or exams. Still, there were rules to follow. And those uniforms were a way to distinguish the students from the teachers more than anything else. Perhaps in another school, such flagrant wardrobe violations like Alma's would have been dealt with more harshly. But as it was, she received not much more than a slap on the wrist. The rest of the girls complained of unequal treatment at the time, but in hindsight I can see why they never really punished her. The teachers recognised early on Alma’s clear physical disadvantage compared to the rest of us, and as a consequence, they quite rightly decided not to give her too hard a time for it.

So, I probably ought to pause here to let you know where this is going. At this point, you probably just think that this is the story of me developing a crush on my classmate with the big boobs. I guess coming next ought to be the story of how I admired her from afar until school was over, before eventually turning her into a masturbatory fantasy to enjoy in the shower as an adult, right? Well sure, there’s a bit of that, I’ll admit it. But there is much more to describe when it comes to Alma. As it turned out, she would become known for much more than a pair of breasts.

What usually happens now, and it certainly did for me and my peers, was that the worst of puberty would come and go. A few years of discomfort and worry and we would have blossomed into young women, for better or worse. However, puberty was not quite done with Alma yet. What started as just a precocious bustiness, and a few extra inches of height, became much more. Following quickly in the wake of her growing bosom was the rest of her body. In what felt like a matter of weeks, Alma grew from a slightly above-average teenager, to being by far the tallest in our class. Then a few weeks later, she was even taller than most people in the school, including the teachers. By the age of 15, she had topped 6 feet in height, and with no signs of stopping.

As you could imagine, the girl with the biggest boobs in school becoming by far the tallest girl in school at the very same time was, shall we say, noteworthy. Indeed, Alma was the topic of the moment. The constant reporting on her height became a joint headline each week to go along with the growing size of her breasts. It was all a bit too much really. How on Earth Alma managed to keep her cool through all of this constant examination by her peers, teachers and nurses alike, I have no idea. Yet she remained as focused and collected as ever. Whenever she was asked, no matter how innapropriately, “how tall are you?” or “what size are your tits now?”, she would always respond without hesitation “Oh, I’m 6’7’’ last I measured”, “they’re an M cup now, a new bra came in the mail this morning”, as if it was nothing.

So this is all moving pretty fast, and believe me, that’s what it felt like too. Alma’s growth from that point on seemed like a constant, ceaseless, unstoppable force. Far from the intermittent growth spurts the rest of us sat around waiting patiently for, Alma’s growth was apparent almost on a day-to-day basis. Every morning her tights looked a little bit shorter on her legs, her blouse fitting a little worse around the chest. New pockets of squishy boob flesh sprouted all around the seams of her clothing as she outgrew one bra after the other. Alma also began to need to stoop with increasing frequency. I began to gauge her height, not by where her head lay with respect to our classroom’s door frame, but by how much she would have to crane her neck to even get through it.

It must have been only a few weeks after that that Alma reached 7 feet in height. In fact, the morning she told us was an event I remember well. That was the day I got my first real insight into what must have been going on inside her head while all of this bewildering growth was taking place.

That morning, Alma was ambushed by the usual gaggle of classmates who had made it a habit to marvel at the poor girl’s growing proportions every chance they got. Somewhat shamefully, I always used to try to listen in on these conversations. I was far too terrified to converse with her myself, so these opportunities were the closest I could get to hearing Alma talk about herself. It was always slightly infuriating, though. I would easily pick up on the mean-spirited undertone in the way that those girls would interrogate her. Usually some insult, poorly veiled as a compliment, like “Oh wow Alma, you’re so big, I would never want to be that tall, how could I ever get a boyfriend?”, or “Do you ever feel like your boobs could be too big?”. Yet even this wasn’t enough to break Alma’s cool. Every time without fail, she would reply calmly in her characteristic matter-of-fact voice, as if she were totally impervious to any sort of attack on her person. Nevertheless, the questions and comments rained over her daily anyway.

Then that day, when the news arrived that Alma was 7 feet tall, the only thing the girls could ask was: why was this happening? And why indeed. But as Alma explained to them, the cause of her growth was a complete mystery to her. No one in her family was tall—in fact, they were shorter than average. She said that her parents had recently travelled down to visit her and had been shocked to see what had become of her. Alma didn’t dwell much on this quite personal issue, but I can only imagine how unsettling it must have been to see your daughter in-between visits grow 3 feet in height along with two enormous breasts. In any case, Alma said that her parents took her to a series of doctors, but none could determine the cause of her growth.

And that was that. I was just as baffled as everyone else in the group at hearing her story, but Alma herself seemed totally non-plussed. Even our teacher, who had also been slyly listening, broke in to offer her consolations. She remarked that the school would try to do anything they could to help her. Yet Alma brushed off that too and merely replied, “it’s okay, I don’t really mind”.

So there we were. Our school was now home to a gorgeous 7 foot, huge-breasted amazon. And while this fact was the source of constant amazement for everyone around, students and teachers alike, the budding young giantess simply continued her days as usual. As far as Alma’s behaviour went, it seemed like the only real hindrances were the fact that she now had to duck to enter rooms, and that she couldn't wear a blouse without brandishing several inches of deep cleavage to the class.

It probably doesn’t even need saying at this point, but I may as well: I really was starting to fall in love with Alma. She was unlike anyone I had ever seen. Not even the most perverted alcoves of my imagination could compete with this girl. She wasn't just a dream, she was better than a dream. Yet as much as I longed to gain the courage to talk to her, I never could. Remember, I was a 5-foot scrawny little outcast, usually seen with a greasy brown fringe covering most of my face. Even though Alma was generally a gentle girl who kept to herself most of the time, I still felt wholly inadequate even being near her.

Oh, but go near her I did—it shames me to admit, but since I hadn’t made much in the way of friends, I would spend most of my early mornings and late afternoons wandering around the school grounds searching for Alma. If I found her crouched down on an under-sized chair in the library with a book, I would go and find some corner where I could covertly watch her while she read. Or if she was out and about in the hallways, or in the school grounds, I would simply follow her around, keeping a good distance so as not to be seen. To this day I still have no idea if Alma was aware I was stalking her for so long. Truthfully, the prospect of being caught didn’t even cross my mind at the time. I had such a low opinion of myself that I simply assumed that I would be nothing more than an insignificant worm to her eyes.

So, where is all this going? It’s not looking promising for Alma and me, is it? Well, bear with me, we have a lot more to get through first. "Surely not more growing?", I hear you ask. Well, I apologise if you thought I was done describing Alma’s growth, I'm afraid you are sorely mistaken. And sure, I can hear you all reply—"7 feet is already implausibly tall for a 15-year-old girl. You expect us to believe she could possibly grow any taller?" Well, if you’d have asked me that at the time, I would have said the exact same thing. But the real world has a funny way of subverting expectations.

All of the teachers and us assumed, without any good reason, that Alma’s 7-foot milestone would be the end of it. But after a week went by, it was already clear that our assumption was wildly misjudged. Alma was growing, and not slowly at all. Being so incredibly tall already, it was getting harder to really gauge Alma’s growth. She was simply just taller than everyone around. So instead, it became the small things that started to tip me off. For instance, one day, she walked into class barefoot because her size 15 shoes intended for male basketball players were suddenly too small. Then another day, while standing in line for lunch, a loud crash echoed around the hall after Alma smashed her head into a hanging fluorescent light fixture that she apparently hadn’t realised she'd outgrown. I remember a particularly startling incident during a lesson when our teacher was nearly blinded by a stray shirt button whizzing across the room at the speed of a bullet. You see, due to the expanding size of Alma’s chest, she was in a constant battle against those damned blouses. I suppose you probably didn’t think a classroom button-popping incident would actually occur outside of pornography, would you? But believe me, that happened. Apparently, Alma’s growth was so fast and so constant, that her bust would expand even within the space of one lesson.

Who knows how long it took Alma to reach 8 feet in height, but it couldn’t have been more than a month. Regardless, it was far too fast. We were all still reeling from her last milestone. This time though, the issue of Alma’s growth was discussed in a lot more serious terms. Back at 7 feet tall, the girl was unusually tall, sure, but people do occasionally reach those sorts of statures. Perhaps Alma simply suffered from a similar affliction, we thought. But 8 feet tall?  And then pretty soon after, 9 feet? Well, Alma was heading into uncharted territory now. I remember one day during lunch, a girl looked up who the tallest person who ever lived was, and would you believe it, Alma, at 9 feet and 8 inches, was already taller than him. A rapturous discussion then followed, in which the girls all expressed their excitement about sitting in the same room as the tallest person in recorded history. All of them rushed over to compare their to heights to hers, with none even able to clear the great mounds of boob that she had stuffed inside her blouse. Of course, Alma’s reaction was exactly as anyone could have expected by this point: “Hmm, that’s cool, I guess.”

We were approaching the summer of year 11. Alma, me and the girls in our class, had all had our 16th birthdays by now. Despite it still bewildering us all, Alma’s ascent to a nearly-10 foot tall goddess-like creature was now just one of those everyday things. Looking back on it now, I can't believe how natural it became to have Alma around. Sure, if you'd asked me, I was still madly in love with the girl, but generally speaking, the school was getting used to Alma’s continual growth. Every new development was just like the weather in a way—a constant. But don’t let me play it down. Keep in mind, this is all still totally bonkers. Alma was not simply a preposterously tall teenage girl, her bodily proportions were—for lack of a kinder word—downright freakish. You have to picture it, 10 feet sounds impossible to begin with, but even then, her frame was nowhere close to some skinny elongated beanpole. No, Alma was robust. Sturdy like a tree. Her limbs were thick and firm, her hands and feet in perfect proportion with the rest of her statuesque body. Of course, what I meant about her freakishness was not those body parts, but rather her breasts. The things that started it all. Her cup size was already rounding out the alphabet even before she reached this crazy height, but by the time she topped 10 feet, Alma had transcended beyond brassieres altogether.

You might be wondering how I would even know anything about Alma’s undergarments or lack thereof, but trust me, it wasn’t exactly a secret. I remember that one fateful morning when Alma first clambered through the classroom door without a bra on. Her breasts—each one now the size of a beach ball—swung unsupported to-and-fro like giant pendula suspended from her chest. They were concealed underneath a large blue bedsheet that she had wrapped around her torso for support. This was new. And the sight of her like this caused a chorus of gasps to echo around the classroom. Only one day earlier, Alma had still been valiantly attempting to cram her excessive upper body into the largest bra that the school had been able to source for her via mail. But the decision to release them from that lacy prison, I thought, was a long time coming. The sight of all that flesh bandaged up in some ghastly configuration inside that tiny blouse and bra always made me feel claustrophobic. It was a relief seeing her chest unbound and able to move for the first time.

Unfortunately, not everyone in the class was as thrilled for Alma as me. Many, including our usually easy-going teacher, protested that this was taking it too far. It was obscene for a 16-year-old to be getting around without a bra or proper clothing, she said. I could see her point, to an extent—even though Alma’s modesty was still covered by the sheet, it really left nothing to the imagination. The swollen roundness of each jiggling breast was clearly visible, and you didn't even have to squint to see two long nipples poking out ostentatiously through the fabric. But when first questioned over the sudden decision to forgo proper clothing, Alma simply shrugged and said: “Nothing fits. What else am I supposed to do?”. No one had an answer to that. And indeed, what was she supposed to do? It seemed that the war between Alma’s body and her clothing had been fought, and her body had won.

Soon after I had my 16th birthday, it was time to round off our classes for the year and get ready to enjoy a few months off from school work. Around half the girls in the school would be collected by their parents and be whisked off to some swanky destination for a vacation. But the rest of us who stuck around, myself and Alma included, apparently all belonged to parents too busy to entertain children all summer. We were generally left to do whatever we wanted with that time, provided we stayed within the grounds, or the surrounding countryside. Summers at school were my favourite times of all. No classes, no chores, no schedule whatsoever—we were free to roam the grounds, explore the nearby forest, play games in the fields, or, as I typically did, spend all of the time sitting under the sun reading books. Until this summer, that is. As I have described, that year had been quite a remarkable one for Alma and her growing body, and I was obsessing over her badly. So my list of plans that summer consisted of one item, and one item only: talk to Alma. I made a pact with myself: this pathetic crush of mine had gone on long enough. Sure, the girl was so far out of my league it wasn’t even funny, but how could I live with myself if I went through the entirety of school without even exchanging words with her?

So what about Alma then? Well, if you thought that her body would let her take the summer off, guess again. If anything, the fact that she no longer had to stoop around in the hallways to get from class to class meant that her body finally had the room it always seemed to desire. As for me though, if I wanted to keep track of this growth for myself, I needed a new strategy. Without the usual daily updates from Alma during our morning classes to rely on, I would have to be much sneakier. I knew that one of the popular girls could always be counted on to ask Alma how tall she was, the only thing I would need to do was ensure that I could eavesdrop on some of their conversations.

One morning I spotted them doing just that. Alma and one of the girls were talking beside the tennis court. The girl looked little more than a small child in the shadow of Alma standing up at her full height, and from the her perspective, Alma's chest almost fully blocked her face from view. As I walked slowly past them, pretending not to listen in, I overheard Alma remark disinterestedly that she was now 12 feet and 7 inches the last time the nurse measured her. As it was little more than a week into our summer break, I was quite taken aback by this discovery. The last measurement I had heard her clock in was at the 10-foot mark. Alma was now over twice the height of an adult man.

You'll be surprised to learn that I had seldom seen Alma standing at her full height so far. Usually she was either crammed underneath one of the tiny desks in our classroom, or awkwardly hunched over as she walked through the hallways. That day, walking past the tennis courts, I got as close to Alma as I dared so I could take note of her height for myself. The top of my head was now well below her waist and much closer to her mid-thigh. I mean, can you believe that? A single one of this girl's legs was now bigger than my entire body. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the power she must have been capable of wielding. It’s difficult to visualise I know, but Alma's enormous and misshapen body was in no way an encumbrance to her. She always carried herself deftly and purposefully, fully in control of her body despite its size. She possessed a grace that should have been impossible for someone that tall, let alone someone with a pair of breasts totally out of proportion with her frame. Yet incredibly, she seemed capable of doing just about anything a normal girl would, as long as she had the space to do it in.

Sometime during those first few weeks of summer arrived the very final day that Alma would ever wear shoes. I remember that morning, gathering in a small crowd of students after a huge package arrived at the school. The whisper going around was that Alma’s new shoes had arrived. We all watched in anticipation as she opened the package to reveal a pair of smart black slip-ons that the school had ordered custom made for her. Some of the girls demanded that they see the shoes for themselves, so Alma handed them to the crowd to inspect. They were the biggest pair anyone had ever seen, three feet in length and about as wide as my torso. Alma kicked off the make-shift flip-flops she had been wearing temporarily and slipped the new shoes on. What an anticlimax. Everyone in the crowd was promptly let down when it turned out that even these specially made shoes were too small for Alma. In fact, she couldn’t even cram her feet inside them without several inches of heel sticking out the end.

Now, I have to give my school credit. Up until this point, they had really bent over backwards finding clothes for Alma. It was a resourceful and very accommodating institution for its students, especially when it came to Alma. I think they appreciated that none of this was her fault, especially since her parents apparently couldn't be relied upon for anything beyond the school fees. So every time Alma outgrew a skirt, or a blouse, or even for a while her blazers, they would always send off for new, ever freakishly large garments. They went as far as sourcing her bras for a while, until, as I mentioned, her breasts grew past even the concept of the bra itself. However, as I watched the horror in my teacher’s face as Alma tossed her expensive custom-made giant's shoes aside, I knew then and there that their patience had been tested to its limits.

And sure enough, that spelled the end of the custom clothes purchased for her by the school. From that point on, she would have to find clothes for herself. Alma though, ever resourceful, seemed quite happy to do so. And a new wardrobe then materialised in the space of a week. For a skirt, she unearthed an old curtain that used to hang in the auditorium and tied it up around her waist with a jumper cable. For a top, she wrapped several long reams of light blue bedding around her chest and stomach until she was semi-securely contained. Alma had already been creating her own tops out of bedsheets to conceal her upper body for a while now. But over time even these strange toga-like garments started to look like they were not fit for the job.

Now it’s hard to really get across how large Alma’s breasts were getting. You have to understand, this girl was approaching 14 feet now, and yet her bosom was of excessive dimensions, even on her. I mean, the outline of Alma’s upper body was nearly circular. From a distance her torso seemed to consist of nothing swollen flesh. They were simply gigantic in all directions---extending down to her waist and even approaching her arm span in diameter. If she were a normal height, each one of those boobs would have been large enough to fill up your outstretched arms, but on someone Alma’s size, they were unthinkably huge. I suspected that if you made a container the same volume as just one of her breasts, you could probably fit around 3 people inside. That’s how big we’re talking.

So all that is building up to the realisation that Alma’s body was becoming a major obstacle in her life. Being freakishly tall was one thing, but having a chest grow to those proportions at the same time? It wasn’t going to be long before they prevented her from doing a lot of normal things. Alma was still as slender and athletic as ever in all other areas, but the fact remained that there was simply so much of her.

It was sometime around the middle of the summer holidays that rumours started spreading that Alma was going to start spending all of her time outside. She had long since migrated from her shared dormitory out to the gymnasium many months prior. The teachers would help her make up a bed out of old mattresses every night, only for it to be cleared away come morning when the gym was in use again. Unfortunately, now just the diameter of her chest was getting too wide to fit through the doors of the gym. Consequently, this prevented her any further access to her new bedroom, despite the fact that, in principle, the gym should have been more than big enough to contain her.

So now reaching 16 feet in height, Alma was to be a permanent fixture outside, and the teachers kindly set her up with everything she could need. For a dormitory, they laid down a large sheet of tarpaulin underneath an old rain-shelter behind the athletics track. Though I never saw it myself, apparently there was also a water pipe a few fields away that the local farmers used to water their crops---this was supposedly how Alma would wash herself. For anyone else, this surely would have been a dehumanising deterioration of living conditions. However, the ever-resilient Alma took it all in her stride and without uttering a word of complaint. With only a few weeks left of our summer break, the teachers' main concern was then to be what Alma would do once classes started again. Whatever would happen though, it was clear that the giantess’s days of fitting inside buildings were long gone.

At this point, you may be wondering: whatever happened to my grand summer goal of talking to Alma? Well okay, okay, I’m getting there. It was hard though, believe me. It wasn’t just my wretched shyness that was getting in the way now, Alma was quickly becoming an individual who simply existed on a different plane to the rest of us. By the time Alma's new outdoors accommodation was finished, she had grown even more and was somewhere in the ball-park of 18 feet tall. That height, if you can’t picture it, meant that the rest of us came up little more than to her kneecaps. Coupled with the prodigious volume of her breasts, it made a good 15 square-foot area around Alma’s feet completely obscured from view. As a result, it was quite possible to stand close enough to her that she would not even know you were there.

Every now and I would feel like I had mustered up enough courage to say ‘hi’ to Alma as she stampeded across the school grounds. But when it came to it, and I actually approached the towering giantess, I would simply gaze up at her like the lumbering skyscraper she was and instantly lose what little confidence I had gathered. Alma, on her part, was absolutely precise with her manoeuvring though. As I have stressed, she was elegant and graceful to a fault. Despite her severely compromised view of the world beneath her due to the size of her chest, she always seemed to take each step with the utmost care. That was not to say that she was afraid of overtaking you though. Many of the girls around the school took issue with Alma stepping directly over their heads and would shout at her every time she did. I, on the other hand, never minded this one bit. A few times I even went out of my way to intercept Alma's path, just so that she would stride over me---it just allowed me to appreciate her magnitude in a new way. Who could really complain about that anyway? Never once did I ever hear of Alma accidentally damaging something, or crushing someone underfoot. At her size she would have been more than capable. Those girls should have counted themselves lucky that she was so peaceful. If it had been me, I would have picked them up like tiny rodents and squished the life out of them when they dared talk to me the way they talked to Alma.

So, back to the matter at hand. As I have described, saying hello to Alma while she was walking from place to place was impractical, simply because of the distance between us. Instead, I decided that sparking up a conversation with her while she was lying down would be a safer option. I’d often seen other people approach her like that. In the evenings, she could often be found lying on the grass beside her rain shelter, chatting away with whoever came to visit. It seemed like that was the way she was most comfortable with as well. Unfortunately, time was ticking on. I had nearly squandered the whole summer just fantasising about one day talking to Alma. And all that while she had continued to grow. Her height was now hitting the mid-twenties in feet. Given her unstoppable growth, I had no idea if Alma would even still be attending school come the semester. So I had to come up with something. Some reason to go over and talk to her… but what?

Well I’m sad to say that I really am a procrastinator at heart, because it wasn’t until the evening of the very final day of summer that it eventually happened. I was just about ready to give up on my pathetic summer dream and forever scold myself for having missed my shot. Why couldn’t I find any reason to talk to her? So that final evening, as if in a weird way to punish myself, I decided to stroll past Alma’s shelter, pretending like I was en route somewhere else. It was something I had done frequently over the summer, as it offered the best views of Alma that you could get. She would often be lying on her side, with her breasts splayed out across the grass in front of her, usually only partially covered by one of the large pieces of fabric she used as a top.

That evening, the sun was just setting below the western hills that bordered the school, bathing the school grounds in a sumptuous orange glow. I strolled very slowly along the path that would lead me past Alma. As I rounded the corner of the gymnasium, I prepared myself to see her. I had no idea what I would say, but I was past worrying---I was determined to speak. Whatever it turned out to be, I would walk right up to her and her group, and open my mouth.

I turned the final corner, spotting her immediately in the distance. She was there, in her usual spot, but curiously, she was alone.

Now, this almost never happened. Usually, when Alma was relaxing in her spot, she was surrounded by at least a couple, if not an entire group of other girls. After all, it was the best time to interact with her---talking to a standing 25 foot girl from ground level was simply not possible. Lying down on her side though, Alma’s head was a lofty, but not uncomfortable, 6 feet from the ground.

I had no idea why Alma was alone that night, but by some stroke of luck she was. Lying on her side, in all her splendour, with her right hand propping up her head, and the other fiddling with something on the floor beside her.

I gulped, took a deep breath and walked over. The gods had granted me a blessing by offering her to me alone. I was never going to get a better chance than this. I walked slowly and with my head held down, trying for some pointless reason not to startle her. I could feel myself unravel even before I was halfway there. My legs went numb. My mind blank. I could barely even remember how to speak, let alone come up with some kind of intelligent conversation. As I approached the edge of the tarpaulin that lay across the floor of Alma’s accommodation, I knew I had already failed. At the last second, I took a sharp 90-degree turn, and walked off in the opposite direction.

But then. From behind me, I heard a booming voice shout. “Hey, Aristhenia?”. I stopped in my tracks. This was something very new. You have to appreciate that it was rare to hear anyone call out my name. I had no friends, and even the people I did occasionally talk to would rarely attempt to say my name, usually opting for “you”, “shorty”, or “munchkin”. Not only had someone just called out my name in full, perfect pronounciation, but it was her. She knew my name!

I whipped around to see Alma with her head upright, staring directly at me with a half-smile. I didn’t say anything at first, fearful that if I opened my mouth I would wake up from the dream. But after a while, she said my name again. Much more softly now. Keep in mind that over time Alma’s natural speaking voice had become extremely loud, so her habit these days was to gently whisper instead of talking at full volume. It gave her voice this spell-binding huskiness that only made her more ravishing to me.

I had no idea what on earth she could have wanted, but my feet began to walk forwards before my mind could catch up. I tried my best not to stare at the two huge mounds of partially-covered boob that lay before me, almost overtopping me in height. Each one of her breasts was as large as a car, and this was the closest I had ever been to them. They were splayed out, resting on the ground in this incredible alluring way that emphasised both their softness and their monumental weight. I managed to tear my gaze away from Alma’s breasts and looked up to see her smiling down on me.

“Hey, sorry, I dunno if we’ve properly spoken before, but could you help me with something?”

She whispered. All I could manage was a nervous nod.

“It’s kind of a weird request, so it’s okay if you say no—I know we don’t know each other very well. But… well I need some help with this bottle.”

Alma handed me an industrial-sized bottle of some white liquid. She was able to hold the thing in between her thumb and index finger, but when she passed it to me I found I needed to use both arms to hold on to it.

I looked down at the bottle and realised that it contained what must have been multiple litres of moisturising lotion.

“The cap is too small, I can’t get my fingers around it. I always worry that I’m just going to blow the thing up if I’m not careful.”

Alma continued. This time I didn’t even pause. I immediately unfastened the cap of the moisturiser and placed it down in the ground, a few feet away from the bottom edge of her right breast.

“Thanks a lot. Hey, even weirder request, I know, but… I don’t suppose you would mind putting it on me would you? It’s just that when I use the lotion on myself I end up wasting the whole bottle in one go, it’s much easier if someone else does it. Normally someone is around, but I dunno where everyone has gone tonight.”

My heart was trying to beat out of my ribcage now, but after gulping a few deep breaths to calm myself down, I managed to squeak out an affirmative response,

“Um. Okay…. but… where do you need me to…?”

Alma let out a relieved sigh,

“Oh great, thank you so much. It’s just around and under my boobs, they rub really badly and the lotion helps stop me getting rashes. You’d be doing me a massive favour, seriously.”

Wait a minute. What? I almost couldn’t believe what I had just heard. I was still trying to come to terms with the fact she was talking to me, now she wanted me to do what to her? You probably think that I’m making this up. It was the sort of thing I couldn’t have even imagined her asking me in a dream. I remember just standing there, staring at her in disbelief, for minutes. But I must have said yes, because after a while Alma continued,

“We’ll have to go around behind the woods because I can’t get undressed here. I’ll take us there though, do you mind if I…”

Before I could figure out what she was saying, Alma’s left hand had already begun to wrap itself right around my lower torso and legs. Her fingers clenched down firmly around my body, and she lifted me high into the air.

I felt my body be flung through the sky as Alma slowly erected her body beneath me. With every graceful motion, her colossal breasts swung violently to and fro, threatening to burst free of the fabric that was just barely hanging on to her body. The next few minutes were a blur. Alma held on to me securely, but with a feather-soft grip so as to not cause me any discomfort. I remained there, gazing up at her face as she took her huge giantess-sized steps across the world. In what felt like the blink of an eye, we had already rounded the forested area that lay beyond the school grounds and were approaching an empty field of grass that was out of view of any buildings. Remarkably, while this was going on, Alma just continued to talk to me, as if holding one of her fellow students in her hand like a doll was just perfectly normal.

“Thanks for letting me do this, it would take forever to get there at your pace, no offence. You know most of the other girls don’t ever let me pick them up, they’re so sensitive about it. I dunno if they think I’ll crush them or something… And don’t even get me started on the teachers. I offered to lift Miss Fernandes onto the roof to check something the other day and she nearly threw a fit. Something about her having to maintain 'authority' or whatever.”

The ease with which Alma was chatting to me was totally unexpected, and I could hardly contain my excitement. She was actually having a conversation with me. Me!

Alma strode over to the middle of the field. I could see far below that the grass was flattened to a smooth surface, presumably from having been crushed under Alma's weight many times before.

“Here we are. This is my little private area where I get changed and wash and stuff. The teachers shout at me if I get my boobs out where people can see me.”

Alma placed me gently back down on the ground. She then proceeded, with a series of colossal yet no less agile movements, to lay herself back down on her side in front of me. For a second, it looked like I would be launched across the field when a colossal swinging breast nearly collided with me. But the breast sailed mere feet above my head before crashing down onto the ground beside me.

I had barely even said a word by this point, yet it didn’t appear to matter---Alma seemed content enough just to continue talking at me.

“You’re such a saint for doing this by the way. All you need to do is take some of the lotion and rub it around where my boobs press against my stomach, all those places where it’s a bit red.”

As she spoke, Alma had started to unwind the reams of fabric from her chest. After several lengths had been unravelled, they came loose. Yanking the fabric off her body, Alma's breasts tumbled back down to the floor like great boulders falling from a high cliff-face. I felt the vibrations rumble through the earth and up into my body as if it were the onset of an earthquake.

I rubbed my eyes in pure shock. This surely wasn’t actually happening to me, I thought. There they were, the largest breasts that any woman on Earth had ever grown, fully unclothed, and resting on the floor mere feet away from me. But I barely even had time to double-check if I was hallucinating or not because Alma had already returned to me the bottle of lotion I had opened for her a few minutes earlier.

I didn’t wait a second longer. I scurried squeezed some lotion into my palms and scurried over to Alma’s body. I can only assume due to some deep primal urge, I instinctively went straight for her left nipple: a huge pink object that was longer and thicker than my arm. But before I could lay my mouth on the teat, the breast began to recede up and away from me. Alma had placed her hand under her left boob and was lifting it up. Despite her presumably immense strength, it clearly took great effort for her to lift the thing. With the breast removed, I finally witnessed Alma’s stomach which was taught and outlined by just the faintest shadow of sinewy abdominal muscle. I could see that red blotches had formed all across the skin where her breasts had rubbed against it. I could also see that the underside of the breast Alma had lifted in the air was red and sore as well.

I am still not sure to this day if the next few minutes were a dream or not. Alma pointed me towards the painful red marks and instructed me to rub lotion on them. I spent a while covering her lower chest and stomach in lotion, before she lowered the left breast down above my head so that I could reach up and address the rashes there. The flesh of Alma’s boobs was other-worldly, a sensation I will never be able to forget. Their surface was not just endless in extent, but it seemed impossibly soft as well. I had expected for some reason for Alma’s immovable body to be hard like a stone wall, but it was anything but. The skin of her boobs was smooth and pliable, giving way under my pressure as I rubbed them all over with lotion. I went as slowly and as methodically as I could, trying desperately to prolong the experience. But before I knew it, it was over. I had completed my job.

After I was finished, Alma lifted both of her breasts carefully down to the ground again and breathed a deep sigh.

“Thanks so much for doing that, you wouldn’t believe the stress these things cause me.”

I smiled back at her, but I was still so shellshocked that I couldn’t utter a word. Curiously though, like before, it was as if I didn’t need to. I had half-expected Alma to dismiss me from her presence as soon as I was done, but she didn’t. She didn’t even attempt to dress herself again. She just lay there on her side in front of me, like a giant topless statue, with a look of deep relaxation on her face.

“Why have we never hung out before? You seem really sweet, Aristhenia… That’s such an interesting name, by the way.”

She finally said after a beat. I thanked her for the compliment and then spluttered some incoherent explanation about us running in different circles. Alma just smiled and shrugged. I stood there next to her in silence for a long while after that, until a burst of courage suddenly bubbled up to the surface,

“So… are you looking forward to classes again…?”

I asked her. Yes, probably the dullest first question I could have asked the love of my life, I know. But at the time I was beyond proud of myself just for coming up with something. To my fortune, Alma ignored the mundanity of the question and chuckled. I had to swallow hard, as I watched her vast bosom jiggle around every time she laughed.

“Well… the truth is, not really. I guess it’s pretty obvious right—a lot’s changed with me over the summer. I’m still not sure if I want to stay in school, I don’t really see the point. The teachers say that they’ll work out a way for me to watch lessons from outside. But… it’s going to suck, I know it. I wish I could just go inside again... Oh well, I guess this is the way it’s going to be from now on…”

It was the first time I had ever heard Alma speak so frankly about her private concerns. Usually she gave the impression of being an incredibly secure individual, impervious to the challenges thrown at her by the world.

It seemed like Alma was opening up to me. By some miracle, something about my presence made her feel at ease. I knew it would have been idiotic to waste this opportunity, so I built up the courage to probe deeper.

“Alma… do you mind, if I ask—“

“Yeah, of course, go ahead.”

“Um… well, do you… I mean… what’s it like? I mean… being… you know, like you?”

Alma laughed again and gave me a generous, understanding smile.

“You mean being a giant? Haha. It’s fine. I mean… wait, were you just kidding, or do you really wanna know?”

I nodded enthusiastically.

“Alright well… You know I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that. I guess people have forgotten already that I used to be the same size as you guys… I mean, sure, it’s okay. It has good sides and bad sides. It’s pretty fun being able to get to places like this so quickly. And I guess I’m pretty strong now. Hopefully I’ll be able to do something with that later on, like as a job or something, instead of just worrying I’m going to destroy stuff all the time… But then, I dunno, I wish I could just go back to normal again sometimes. Like just so I could hang out indoors again. Lie on a couch and watch movies, sit at the dinner table with people, have a proper shower,… I mean, jeez, even to just go to the bathroom like a regular person again would be amazing…”

Alma looked away wistfully. I wanted to console her, but she was lost in a train of thought. Patiently, I waited for her to continue.

“But nah… I guess I just have to accept what I am. I try and remind myself that it’s a blessing really. No one else in the world has what I have, whatever this is… I should be thankful… you know what really drives me nuts though? It’s all the growing. I dunno why my freaking body has this insatiable need to be bigger all the time. I wish it would just pick a size and stay there, it would save everyone so much time and effort. If I could just get to however big I’m gonna be already and be done with it… Sometimes, you know, I worry that I’m just never going to stop growing…”

Alma’s smile faded.

“Do you really think that could happen…?”

I managed to ask.

“I don’t see why not… but… I dunno, there has to be some limit, right? Surely? I guess we’ll just have to see… It’s silly really, but one of the things I worry about is what will happen if the rest of my body stops growing but my boobs keep on going. You already saw what it’s like down there. I swear I’m not going to be able to cope with them getting much bigger, I mean I already look ridiculous as it is. How big can they get, really? Bigger than a house? A mountain?”

“I think you look beautiful.”

I said, suddenly. The words came tumbling out my mouth before I had a chance to catch myself. Alma paused mid-sentence and stared at me, mouth agape.

“Hah! Wow… Seriously? God, no one’s ever called me that before. Usually it’s just words like ‘huge’ or ‘massive’ or ‘ginormous’. I dunno if you meant that or not, but thanks anyway, makes me feel a bit better.”

“You’re welcome.”

I replied, in a voice as a tiny as me.

Alma and I stayed in that field until well past dark. Hours and hours went past as the two of us chatted under the moonlight. At one point, Alma became uncomfortable and decided she wanted to lie on her back. Without even asking my permission, she lifted me up again and placed me down on her chest. Using her arms to smoosh her boobs together, she created a wonderfully soft and expansive surface for me to sit down on cross-legged and continue the conversation.

Our chat was so free and uninhibited, it was almost like we were long-lost friends. I kicked myself for having foolishly delayed this potential friendship for so long. I learnt so much about Alma that night. She told me all about her family, and her home life before coming to the school. I learned that her parents were both missionaries and were travelling so often that they were not able to look after her. That’s why she ended up at the boarding school. She confessed that the last time she had seen them was when she was still only 10 feet tall. Her parents had been kept informed of her continued growth by the teachers, but so far they had not responded to any attempts at contact. To Alma, it seemed like they had abandoned her. It was really quite tragic, and I did my best to comfort the giantess. I had no idea that on top of everything she had to go through with her transformation, she was being rejected by the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally.

Everything changed that night. Alma and I quickly began an exhilarating new friendship. I don’t know if it was I who tipped the scales in favour of it, but the very next day, Alma went along with the teacher’s proposal and returned to class along with the rest of us. That morning, she stood in the grass outside the building, and peered into the second-floor window of our classroom. It was quite an unusual experience for everyone, that was for sure. I tried my best to concentrate on the lessons, but it was a challenge having to constantly see Alma’s enormous face looking in on us as if we were inside a doll’s house.

Over the next few weeks, the two of us began to spend more and more time together. It started out just like that first night, with me spending half an hour or so each night rubbing her body with lotions. But with every passing day, we would spend longer and longer chatting together in that open field. Alma told me all about her hopes and dreams, things like learning a musical instrument, owning a pet, or learning how to drive a car, things that she sadly would never be able to do. I even managed to let more of my own awkwardness free, and return some of the conversation myself.

Probably the most remarkable realisation I had during that time was that, until now, I had never seen Alma eat at her current size. She told me that around the time she started living outside, she also decided it was best to only eat in private. Shockingly, she was actually embarrassed about the quantities of food that she needed to satisfy her appetite. But as we grew closer, she started to invite me to join her for meals as well. The school’s cooks would roll out a series of trollies filled with enough food for 15 people, which she would then engulf in little more than a couple of minutes. It was really rather astonishing to behold, but only made her even more awe-inspiring in my eyes.

My new best friend. The giantess, Alma. I could barely believe what was happening to me. Why on earth she liked me so much, I still have no idea, but who was I to question it? Of course, on my side, this friendship was still a painful, unrelenting adoration. I am not exaggerating when I say that I thought about Alma non-stop. Whenever we were not together, my mind replayed images of her majestic figure walking across the fields, those humongous naked breasts 4 times the size of me swaying back and forth like wrecking balls. I’m ashamed to admit that these thoughts ran through my mind even as I lay in bed. Every night, I fell asleep fantasising about all the things that giantess could do to me. All the twisted ways she would be able to crush my puny body… For now, though, none of these more perverted thoughts left my head. By some miraculous turn of events, I was closer to the giantess than I could have ever hoped— there was no way in hell I was going to ruin it.

So, you are probably thinking that this story has turned out surprisingly well so far, right? I thought so too at the time. Not only was I making my first ever friend, but it was the very girl I had been obsessing over for years. It was like a fantasy made real. Sure, Alma had no idea how much I loved and lusted after her, but I didn’t care. Even just being close to her was like living a perpetual orgasm.

So what could possibly go wrong from here, I hear you ask. Why does this not all end happily ever after? The tall girl and her adoring little companion, friends forever. Well, not so fast. During this short magical period at the beginning of that new school year, while our friendship grew, so did something else. And that, of course, was Alma herself. Despite her best efforts to will her body otherwise, it stubbornly continued to expand outwards at the same inconceivable pace that it always had.

Naturally, it was difficult to perceive the already 23-foot tall Alma grow from day to day. But grow she did. And while her daily additions to her height back when she was a mere 7-foot amazon were a matter of centimetres, the proportionality of this expansion meant she was now putting on something like half a foot a day. Alma was so used to this by now that she never even thought to remark on it. I, on the other hand, was intimately aware. It seemed like every time Alma would pick me to whisk me away to our private spot, I was even smaller compared to her.

To give a sense of this development: that night when she first picked me up, my waist was still slightly larger than her grip. Yet after just a few more evenings, her hand could comfortably encircle my body. She was always incredibly gentle with me of course, but it was a terrifying sensation to see how large her hands were getting compared to my comparitively frail body. Though she would never think of it, if she wanted to squish me in her fist like an insect, she could well do so without even breaking a sweat.

Another thing I had to get used to very shortly after becoming friends with Alma was the terrifying new heights that I would be lifted into the air each day. I had barely even had time to properly take in what a 23-foot vantage point looked like before I was soon viewing the world from an altitude of 27 feet a week later. And let me tell you, at 30 feet above the ground, you really get a stunning view. At that height, the world beneath really does start to look like a miniature, the people around you so very very small.

It wasn't all rides around inside Alma's fist though. Soon enough she started allowing me to ride around on her shoulder. I would grab hold of a couple of locks of Alma's long black hair for support and hold on for dear life while she leapt across the school grounds. I would look down on all of my peers as we went, pretending that it was I who was the giantess, and that all those minuscule little girls who had bullied me over the years would have to cower in my shadow.

I would ask Alma regularly during these rides if she thought that this growth was getting too much for her. Yet she would always brush it off, saying, “it is what it is”. I was excited by the whole situation sure, but at night I began to worry about what the future held. Alma’s size was really becoming a concern. If her body didn’t stop growing sometime soon, things were really going to get very difficult for her and everyone around her.

I should point out that Alma’s 30 feet milestone was a crucial one. The three-story buildings that made up our school were around 30 feet tall, which meant that from this point on, she was taller than the very place that had once housed her. I haven’t commented so much on how the rest of the school had reacted to this chain of events. I think most people were so exhausted from worrying about how big Alma would get, that by the time she overtopped the buildings, they were already long past caring. Alma was just the friendly neighbourhood giantess now. 20 feet tall, 30 feet tall, what difference did it make? We would all have to deal with her enormity whether we liked it or not.

But if you think that it stopped there, then you really haven’t been paying attention. Day by day, foot by foot, she grew. She grew and grew and grew. It was little more than a week after reaching 30 feet, that I was finding myself looking down over the roofs of the school buildings as I rode around on Alma’s shoulder. Actually measuring her height was totally impossible now—she was simply larger than any other reference point. So from here on, all I can do is estimate her size and nothing more.

I would guess that around 4 weeks into our friendship, Alma reached 50 feet. Thanks to the excessive width of her chest, she was no longer able to squeeze herself in between the various buildings that made up the school complex. Instead, she would have to resort to only crawling around the outskirts of the grounds on all fours, bending over so as to peer into the classroom windows. She was still able to attend all of her classes this way, but it was not without considerable difficulty. Every time Alma would need to crawl from one class to another, it would turn into a major event. Everyone had to clear well out of her way for risk of being flattened by the girl. Alma’s hands alone were twice as large as a person now, and her weight must have been so incomprehensibly heavy that it is pointless even trying to estimate it. However, what made these frequent crawls even more hazardous for onlookers, was the fact that, yes, Alma’s breasts had continued to explode in size.

There are simply no adjectives that can convey how large Alma’s boobs were becoming now. If she was 50 feet in height, then her bust must have been easily 25 feet in radius. They were celestially huge. It was clear that each one was larger than many of the buildings around the school, and certainly no piece of fabric in existence was large enough to conceal them. So what could she possibly have worn to cover these growing appendages from everyone? Well,  the answer is absolutely nothing. Not long after Alma grew beyond 30 feet, she managed to convince the teachers that she really was well past being able to cover herself. I hear that it took a lot of heated negotiation, but after realising that it was just unsustainable to keep trying to contain Alma’s body inside increasingly huge reams of fabric, the teachers allowed her to undress herself for good.

So over the last few weeks, as obscene and unbelievable as it sounds, yes, Alma had been existing at school stark naked. Whenever she crawled on all fours to get from class to class, her bare breasts were so voluminous that they ended up squashed in between her body and the ground. An extensive network of muddy ditches formed all around the lawns that bordered the school from where Alma had dragged her gargantuan breasts and thick nipples the length of an entire person across the ground.

At this point, you might have started to wonder what on Earth was even keeping Alma hanging around the school. That is what myself and many others started to question as well. Throughout this time, Alma had kept up dutifully with her classes. She wasn’t able to do any homework of course, there simply wasn’t a pencil in existence large enough for her to hold. Yet she attended every class in her timetable anyway, watching silently in through the tiny window as best she could. And not once did she complain about it. All in all, it was a mystery what kept her around, but I suspected it was just that she didn’t know what else to do.

The teachers at the school did attempt to ask Alma what she her grand plan was going to be, but over time she became increasingly difficult to communicate with. Alma’s head was now too far above the ground for her to be able to hear what normal-sized people were shouting up at her. Her height was not just taller than the school buildings, but multiple times taller. On the rare occasion that she would stand fully upright inside the school grounds, her endless naked bosom would block out the sun, and bathe everyone and everything close in shadow. Not that standing anywhere close to Alma was something that any sane person would have ever attempted though. Even standing a decent distance away from her at this size was enough to generate a sensation of extreme vertigo, like looking up at a crumbling apartment block threatening to crash down on top of you at any point. The height of a human being simply couldn’t even compare to her anymore. Though I rarely got close enough to her check, I believe that my height was less than that of her ankles.

With every metre that Alma soared into the sky, she became more and more disconnected from the world beneath her. After a while, she stopped responding to any of the students' attempts to communicate with her other than mine. I still would take my daily rides along Alma's shoulder, holding on as tightly as I could to her ear while she took great 50-foot long strides across the landscape. I would try to keep up as best I could our normal conversations during this time, but it became increasingly difficult for her to respond. Her voice was so earth-shatteringly loud by this point that she had to resort to her very tiniest whisper to avoid deafening me. As time went on, it was clear that this just made her want to stop talking entirely.

During our evenings together, Alma would lie down in the middle of that field, and it would be me doing the talking now. I would try to come up with anything I thought might comfort her, and she just lay peacefully listening to me. And yes, although the task was becoming ever more arduous and costly, I would still rub her incomprehensibly large breasts with lotion every night. It was still as exciting and pleasureable as that first time, but Alma no longer willing to communicate, it had become ever more sadly poignant.

As she grew and grew, Alma began to need to sit down right in front of the school buildings just to be able to have her head level with the classroom. Yet her chest was so extensive in size that she was simply unable to get close enough without her naked bosom pressing up against the walls. If you happened to be sitting in one of the ground floor classrooms while Alma attempted one of these moves, then you would be in for quite a shock. I recall one morning as Alma desperately tried to get her face as close to our2nd floor classroom as possible, a series of shrieks and howling could be heard coming from the classroom beneath us as great hunks of soft flesh smashed in all of the windows and started to squeeze their way into the room. After that incident, the teachers instructed me to convince Alma to keep well clear of any buildings from now on.

By this point, I was the only person Alma would listen to. In a way, it was really just that I was the only one who got close enough for her to hear. I tried to put it as delicately as I could that the school was really beginning to fear Alma now. As she had grown practically mute by now,  she didn't respond at once. But then the very next day, she did exactly as I told her and sat cross-legged 30 feet away from the building, trying as best she could to squint into our classroom to watch the lesson.

Even though Alma valiantly put up with this uncomfortable arrangement for a while, I could tell with every passing day she was beginning to lose interest in school altogether. But still, she didn’t leave us. Instead, during the daytime, the giantess started to listlessly crawl around the grounds on all fours, with nothing to occupy herself. On occasion she would wander off to some nearby field, sit down cross-legged and yank trees out of the ground for no reason. Her titanic bosom would droop out in front of her while she sat like this, engulfing her lap and crushing everything else it came into contact with.

Other days I would spot Alma in the distance, wandering around aimlessly from field to field. Her breasts were continuing to grow at twice the rate of the rest of her and were now hanging well past her waist and approaching her mid-thigh. It was the sort of figure that was not simply abnormal, but a genuine physical handicap. If she had been a regular height, Alma would have been rushed into the operating room for emergency breast-reduction surgery long ago. But strangely, apart from their inconceivable size, her breasts seemed otherwise totally healthy. They were massive, and long, but they were not stretched out or misshapen in form at all. They were still just as round, plump and voluminous as they were at a fraction of the size. I guessed they must have accounted for around a third of her body weight by now, they certainly made her posture look dangerously unbalanced. You could tell by the way she would occasionally stop in place to inspect herself that she was concerned about them. Her boobs were so heavy now that she couldn’t lift both of them at once, instead needing to heave them up one at a time with fully outstretched arms to get a good look.

As the days drifted by, Alma drifted further and further away from us. She started spending most of each day out in the fields, walking around with nowhere to go. Watching the girl I loved detach from the world like this, the girl who was so brilliant, so strong, so resiliant against every dreadful thing that had befallen her… it hurt my soul. So one day, after watching Alma sitting in a field staring at her own chest all afternoon, I knew I had to do something about this. What, I had no idea. But I had to try and talk with her at least.

As soon as class was over, I leapt out of the school gates and sprinted across the fields towards where Alma was sitting. The giantess smiled after spotting me burst through the final hedgerow, and began to move towards me herself. She propped herself up onto all fours and dragged herself and her near-immobilising pair of breasts across the field. I expected her to pick me up and put me on her shoulder like normal, but this time she didn’t. Once she arrived a few yards away from me, she stopped crawling and lay down flat on the ground. Underneath her body, her chest formed two giant cushions, able to support her full weight with ease. Alma’s body stretched out beyond my peripheral vision. I looked up at her, and she looked down at me. Her beautiful face shone in the evening light like a celestial body crashing into Earth. Her gigantic hazel eyes, the sizes of TV screens, were almost luminous. I’m not overstating this when I say that to be in the presence of Alma at this size was like being in the presence of God herself.

Alma said nothing to me first, though it was obviously not out of a lack of things to say. The look on her face told me that there was simply so much to say that she didn’t even know where to begin.

“Are you okay Alma, you really don't seem yourself at the moment?”

I shouted up at her, as loudly as I could. Alma cleared her throat in response, sending a gust of wind whipping through my hair and the grass beneath my feet. She sounded hoarse, presumably after weeks of trying to limit the volume of her voice as much as she could.

“I think I need to leave, Aristhenia. I’m sorry. I… Well, I can't explain it really. I’m just glad I get to see you this final time.”

A dagger pierced through my heart. No. How could she leave me? She couldn’t. She lived here, with me! What did I do wrong? I began to cry.

Alma tossed and turned in place for a while before continuing. When she spoke again, she used her full, natural volume. It was a thundering voice that shook my bones and pushed back my hair. Yet somehow, despite its volume, her voice had this tender and feminine quality that was unmistakably Alma's.

“I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. Really. I just see now that there’s no place for me here. What's the point of staying at school if I can't even get close to you all without risking destroying the whole place? I’m obviously never going to stop growing. It’s already hard enough feeling like I could kill dozens of you if I made any wrong move, what’s it going to be like when I’m twice this size, or three… or a hundred times this size? Huh? And I know no one wants to talk about it, and I’ve been trying to ignore it myself but… well my breasts, they’re a problem, Aristhenia. They’ve gotten too big, and I know they’re going to outgrow me. As stupid as that sounds. I can manage them now, but… well, sometime soon I’m not going to be able to carry them anymore... So…”

“So what? You can stay here, we’ll help you! We'll find something to put your boobs in, I don't know... we'll make something... a hammock, or a sling, I don't know... But we’ll look after you! We will! You can't leave!”

Tears were streaming down my face now, but Alma remained perfectly calm. She reached over, and using the very tip of her little finger, she stroked my face and upper body as delicately as she could manage.

“No you can’t. No one can. You know that really, deep down. I’d just become more and more of a risk to you all if I stayed here. I’ve decided that I’m going to travel somewhere. Somewhere far away, where I can just be alone and not bother anyone. You can come and visit me sometime if you like. I’m sure you’ll be able to find me…”

I averted my eyes to the ground. No matter how much I wanted to force her to stay with me, I knew there was no use. The look of quiet resolve on her face said it all. She was not just expressing her sorrows in the hope that I would comfort her. She needed no more consolation; Alma had made her mind up. I stared down at my feet for a while, unable to even look her in the eyes.

Suddenly, I sensed a large finger and thumb appear on either side of my body. The next thing I knew, I was in the air. The ground fell away from under my feet, and in its place appeared Alma’s face. Her lips accelerated towards my body and just as it looked like she was about to eat me alive, they pursed. Like two humongous red creatures, her lips surrounded my upper body in a giantess-sized kiss. I felt Alma’s sweet-tasting saliva drench my blouse and drip down my body. I tried my best to return the kiss by placing my own lips on the section of the enclosing red walls nearest to me. Whether she was even aware of me trying to kiss her back, I have no idea.

As you might have assumed, that was my first kiss, and as far as I know, it was Alma’s too. Not exactly the kind of kiss a person would expect for their first, or indeed their last, is it? After holding me in between her lips for a long time, Alma finally receded and placed me down on the ground again. By the time I looked up, Alma was already erecting herself. Her body rose up to the sky like a titan awakening from hibernation. She took a few steps back so that we could lock eyes beyond the breasts that were eclipsing the setting sun. We exchanged a final wordless smile, after which Alma turned and walked away.

And there I stood. I watched the love of my life disappear off into the horizon, stepping over roads and trees and people as she went. Even from that distance, I could tell she was taking care not to step on anyone or anything she might harm, as was always her way.

*

So there we are. Disappointed? I don’t blame you. I have been recovering from that disappointment for most of my life. Once you get to know someone like that, how could you ever go back to regular people again? As I got older, I did try to start other relationships. But I found that even the tallest and bustiest women I could find were never enough for me. But  nevermind that. You don’t want to hear about my miserable old life, do you? You want to know what happened to Alma.

Well, while the story of our relationship was over, Alma’s life was really only just beginning. You don’t really think the world wouldn’t take notice of a 100-foot tall 16-year-old girl wandering around the countryside, do you? Not even days after Alma left the school for good that night did the reports start to surface. Soon everyone in the country was aware that a gentle giantess with breasts the size of two small hills was roaming naked around the countryside.

Then the media circus caught up with her. Alma was catapulted into the eighth wonder of the world like she was always destined to be. For a while, it was just a gaggle of awestruck spectators, who gathered around to watch her walk and eat and sleep. Occasionally a particularly daring individual would find some way of being noticed by Alma and try to convince her to pick them up. People who were awarded this privilege would then be able to shout questions to her, like who she was, where did she come from, and what was she doing out here in the fields. A few lucky reporters then followed suit and were given interviews sat upon her shoulder. That was how the world first learned of Alma's story---though it was never one anyone was really able to put into convincing words.

Based on the news coverage she received, I think most people expected Alma at some point to actually do something. Would she destroy a bridge, or flatten a village, or maybe even start eating people? Of course, I knew she would have no interest in anything like that. And sure enough, throughout those first few months of freedom, Alma seemed to want to do nothing more than lay around in pastures in peaceful contemplation. Occasionally she would enthral her fans by standing up to showcase her full height, or laying her breasts on the ground for them to touch and fondle. Rumours went around that if a group of people were to ask her nicely enough, she would allow them to clamber up onto various parts of her body while she bounded across the countryside at speed. It was as if she were turning herself into some kind of stomach-churning amusement park ride.

But all of that fun and games wouldn't last long. Using the TVs and newspapers at school, I kept up with the reports of Alma as best I could. Every time I would read a story about her, or watch someone on TV attempt to describe their theory on who she was, I would groan in despair. Everyone seemed so fascinated with her, yet no one seemed to realise what I knew for certain was coming next. Alma’s growth was as reliable as the rising sun. The 100-foot giantess sitting around in fields like some obscene public attraction was never going to last forever.

Sure enough, it didn’t take long for followers and onlookers to realise that Alma’s size was not stable at all. By the time she reached 300 feet, little more than a few weeks later, concerns were being raised that Alma could at some point become a danger to society. Of course, I knew that Alma was not capable of harming a soul. Never once did I hear of any death, damage or destruction caused by her, even to this day. But continue to grow she did. Shortly after, Alma could no longer safely lift people into the air anymore. Even the tiniest twitch of a finger was enough to crush the weight of a car, so Alma’s carefree rides for her adoring fans came to an end.

For a while after that, the giantess was left well alone by most people. The government deemed it unsafe for anyone to go near Alma until they could figure out what to do with her. In turn, Alma kept to herself. She wandered slowly through across mountains, heathland, and verdant valleys, only in the most remote regions of country. A travelling contingent of officials from the government and armed forces followed her around wherever she went, keeping track of her daily movements. I was glad to read that for the most part they left her alone---only keeping a vigilant eye on her from a distance, waiting to see what she would do next.

Believe it or not, this existence continued for months after that, and everchanging Alma just grew and grew. She shot past 1000 feet in no time, a height which would have allowed her to look down on the Eiffel Tower. Soon after came 1500 feet, dwarfing even the Empire State Building. At this point, I should pause to remind you that it was not just Alma’s height that was increasing, but that her breasts were still growing as well. They had always grown faster than the rest of her, and even though she was now larger than most of the buildings on Earth, her city-crushing bosom still felt the need to out-pace her.

Already by the time Alma had left her media circus behind, her breasts were bumping into her knees. When she was spotted a few weeks later, walking across a remote mountain ridge, they were apparently rubbing up against her shins. Then finally, that day when it was reported that Alma had been spotted at 1500 feet in height, so too had her breasts done precisely what I had long predicted they would. They had grown so large now that they spilled forth from her chest, extended outwards by a distance comparable to her height, and ultimately rested on the Earth in front of her. They were as colossal as she was, and they showed no sign of stopping. While I'm sure she was glad for the added support while standing still, it was clear to everyone watching just how much they would impede her mobility. Video footage taken from a helicopter emerged, showing Alma as she dragged herself across a deserted tundra in the far North of the country. She walked slowly and painfully, with every step needing to heave and push her breasts across the Earth in front of her. Her own chest was nothing more than a ball and chain now, perpetually anchoring her to the ground.

I tried to follow Alma as much as I could in the years following, but at some point I had to get on with my own life. Around the time I left school to begin my first job, I read that the army and the government had finished their long period of deliberations and concluded that Alma was no threat after all. Rediscovering what I had known for years, they proudly proclaimed that Alma was a peaceful creature who had no intention of harming anyone. What did come as a surprise, however, was when they then said that they were trying to negotiate something with her.

I had assumed it would be a hopeless task trying to communicate with that giantess. But soon enough, the news went around that Alma had been successfully recruited by a multi-billion dollar construction company. The company then made headlines again after unveiling that the recently-discovered giantess was to be their newest employee. As insane as it sounds, the plan was to set Alma up in a deserted patch of flat land, somewhere close to where she had ended up on her journey. Though this was not how it was phrased by the company, everyone could see that this company's grand scheme was to use the giantess as a glorified crane. Someone to construct the skyscrapers of a brand new megacity that the government had contracted from the company.

By the time the deal had been struck, Alma’s height was well beyond anything anyone could estimate. When lying down on her side—as she usually was by this point due to the clear difficulty she had dragging her breasts around—the top of her head was some 7000 feet in the air. This presumably made her body a few miles in length, with several additional square miles just occupied by her chest. As far as I could tell though, no one had been able to come up with a good estimate of her size for a long time.

Life after that must have been rather awful for Alma. Her diet of trees and lake water was seen to be dangerous and unsustainable, so the company managing her planned to construct a grotesque system of pipes that would nourish her intravenously. Who knew how costly feeding a person of Alma’s size must have been, one could only assume that whatever she was saving them in labour made up for it.

Finally the day came when Alma was to move to her new location and begin building her city. I was glued to the rolling news reports that played on every station that day. All of us watched from a distance in awe as Alma's head slowly appeared from beyond the hills as she began her long walk towards the site. Miles of land she covered in just a few seconds as she edged slowly towards us. She heaved and dragged her breasts painfully along in front of her, never once attempting to lift them far off the ground. With every excruciating step, and slam down of her bosom, a powerful shockwave would rumble through the ground for miles around. The local populace had long been warned about Alma's arrival, but even so, it was clear from the reactions of locals on the news that they had no idea this event would appear so cataclysmic.

Finally, after several more steps and a final strenuous heave of her bosom, Alma was in place. The giantess then began to drag her foot back and forth across the ground around her, clearing away the odd tree, and ironing out areas of unevenness in the grass-covered savannah where she had been instructed to lie down. Everyone in the vicinity then braced themselves for impact. But instead, Alma paused, and did something entirely different.  Something no one had expected. Crashing to the ground on all fours, the giantess then began to use her hands to carve out a huge crater in the earth, right beside the land she had just cleared away.

At first, no one had any idea what she was doing. This had been a meticulously planned event, and a bout of land excavation was not on the schedule. But then, as Alma proceeded to lower her giant pendulous breasts into the pit she had created, it suddenly became clear what she was doing. We all collectively realised that Alma's bosom was simply so massive and so obstructive now, that the only way she would be able to freely work on her city while lying down was if her breasts were out of the way somehow. As Alma lowered her chest into the crater, and then lay down on her side next to it, a glimmer of a smile appeared on her face, telling me she was satisfied with what she had done. Amazingly, even though they lay mostly submerged inside the crater, the summit of her breasts still rose up half a mile into the sky.

*

As Alma got to work building her city, other countries around the world began to take notice. It wasn't hard to recognise the potential value of a city-building machine who worked quickly, silently, and entirely for free. Though the company that managed Alma made numerous promises to other multi-national organisations, no firm plan had yet been put in place for what to do with her once she was finished with her first city. The main problem of course was figuring out a way for her to move across the world without destroying entire civilisations underneath her breasts. Every day I watched heated discussions on the news between scientists, engineers, and politicians, all proposing different solutions for how to move Alma to her next location.

Anyone and everyone had their own ideas for what to do with Alma. Some wanted to use her power to help society. Some just wanted her to lie there and be a tourist attraction. Some people, I believe, even proposed using her as a weapon. Entire new fields of academic study were being created, just to research new ways in which to work with Alma and convince her to do whatever would eventually be demanded of her. It was now even possible to study the giantess at university, in anticipation that soon entire careers and livelihoods would be based solely around her existence. I briefly thought about taking one of those courses myself, but the idea of it just depressed me.

*

So what did become of me? Well, as soon as I discovered the location of Alma’s city, I quit my job and travelled to a town as close to it as I could find. I managed to find an apartment on the top floor of a tower block, a couple of miles away from Alma. Even though she was far off in the distance, my balcony offered a breathtaking view, lying on her side from horizon to horizon, with her new city’s skyline silhouetted across her body.

It has been many years now since I last spoke to Alma. Sadly it looked like I would never get another chance. The only way anyone could talk directly to the giantess was to get in a helicopter and take the mile-high journey into the sky, up to where her head was. I had heard that she was still able to hear regular humans, as long as they walked right into her ear canal and yelled into some powerful speaker system they had installed there. Those trips of course were highly expensive, and were usually only taken by the heads of the construction company to convey only the most important information to her. They were certainly not the sort of thing a minimum-wage retail worker like myself would ever have the privilege of embarking on. For now, I supposed I would simply have to be content to gaze out from my apartment window at Alma. Her body of cosmic proportions, stretched out from east to west.

Alma’s naked body became such a permanent fixture of the landscape that, after a while, it was commonplace to see thrill-seeking mountaineers attempting to scale her. All around the perimeter of the giantess were various pop-up businesses offering hiking expeditions up onto various parts of her body. They were perilous journeys though, as Alma’s flesh would shake and move and shift constantly. Not just simply because this was a living, breathing human being, but because, despite everything, she was still growing all the time. Whether Alma had any idea that there was this constant flow of tourists attempting to scale the mountainside of her expanding breasts, I had no idea, they must have been nothing more than ants to her.

Most of my free time nowadays I spend sat on my balcony, sipping beer and watching the peaceful mute giantess go about her work. I couldn’t understand why, but Alma forever remained dedicated to her tasks. Why she felt it her duty to continue to actually build that godforsaken city was beyond me. She was an unstoppable force of nature. A being who wielded a god-like level of power. She could have crushed that entire metropolis under the weight of a single breast. But she didn’t. She just lay there day after day, silently building her skyscrapers one at a time like they were made of nothing but lego bricks. Perhaps she just felt that it was her duty to use her incredible size to help us in some way. Perhaps she just didn't know what else to do. I suppose I will never know.

*

So there we have it, that’s the story of Alma. My one that got away. Sure, she got away in a slightly more unusual fashion than you were probably expecting, but that didn’t make it any less hard to accept. My heart yearns to speak with my old friend just one more time. I know she must be so lonely up there, so far away from the rest of the world. Every person she once knew was now nothing more than an invisible microscopic speck. I often try to imagine what it must have been like, growing up the way she did, having your entire world shrink away from you until it disappears into nothingness. I lie awake at night, thinking about her life. The way it all turned out. Why did it have to happen?

You know, at school I never had any desire to be tall myself. I was quite content with my small stature, believe it or not. But these days, if you asked me if I had one wish, just one, it would be to grow myself to Alma's size. I didn’t care about being big, or being powerful. I didn’t want people to look up at me or cower beneath my feet. All I wanted was for Alma to have a friend again.