Diane by Rattlehead
Summary:

A young woman has a terrible morning, then takes out her frustrations on the inhabitants of a city.


Categories: Violent, Giantess, Crush, Destruction, Growing Woman Characters: None
Growth: Giga (1 mi. to 100 mi.), Mega (501 ft. to 5279 ft.)
Shrink: None
Size Roles: None
Warnings: Following story may contain inappropriate material for certain audiences
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 8 Completed: No Word count: 32453 Read: 131028 Published: September 16 2017 Updated: August 25 2018
Chapter 3 by Rattlehead

It was a relief to be out of the concrete maze, she thought. Though she enjoyed fucking the building, being surrounded by skyscrapers on all sides penning her in did begin make her feel a little claustrophobic. If she was bigger, then she wouldn't have this problem, but she had no idea how she was going to accomplish that. It was an issue for another time, and instead she amused herself by turning this idyllic little suburban paradise into her own personal playground.

Once more she ignored the roads and simply let her feet fall wherever they needed to. With little town houses she didn't have to worry about stepping around, over, or through larger buildings, for a pricey colonial home and a good chunk of its yard fit quite neatly under her foot. There were still people everywhere, and seeing them scurry away from her en masse was a beautiful sight. She would, however, direct her feet to stomp on things she found particularly interesting; a particularly large group of rich people trying to run in vain away from her, a dealership of expensive foreign cars, an over-priced health food shop. Whatever it was, everything met the same fate - crushed into oblivion beneath her divine soles.

Diane could see her goal some distance away. It was a shimmering blue body of water surrounded by pleasantly craft countryside, lorded over by a magnificent country club that she wanted to introduce the bottoms of her feet to. As she came closer, she became concerned that this little pond wouldn't be big enough to accommodate her massive body, but she was sure she could still find some fun at least. Her progress was casual and lazy, as befitting a goddess; the world would have to learn to run according to her time, and there was going to be a lot of adapting for these tiny people to do in the near future whether they liked it or not.

The upper middle class and the servants in the country club could see her coming from miles away, but they hadn't thought for a moment that she would be the slightest bit interested in them. Despite her casual saunter, each of her strides crossed nearly three hundred feet in length and the distance between them and her was closing much too fast. Very soon she would be upon them, and there was little time to commit an ordered evacuation plan. By the time they had realised her murderous intentions would soon be directed on them it was far too late, and having seen what she had done in the city centre and then to the homes they built their whole lives around had done little to keep people calm and rational.

The ground trembled, and Diane crested over the nearby hill. People who had only just been enjoying rounds of golf or cards, fine wines and spirits, and intelligent discussions over exquisitely cooked meals had barely managed to leave the country club building through its many entrances, and became trapped and helpless in the luxurious open garden of the estate beneath the gaze of this massive woman, with only a few having the wherewithal to attempt to flee into the woods. Trees disappeared beneath her feet just as decisively as town houses and people, but she missed the crunch that sweeping her soles over crowds brought. Her all-powerful gaze peered down at the rich bastards milling about in the country house grounds below, some believing they might be able to escape her notice or spare them for their wealth, and she could only smile at the delightful irony that all their money and possessions were worthless compared to the power that her size brought her. Her feet levelled people in more ways than just one; rich or poor, everybody became bugs to be squashed for her amusement.

"Oh, this is a lovely place!" she said in a mocking, sing-song tone. "Well, I think it's time for a little wealth distribution. Time to make the one per cent into the zero per cent!"

It only took a few steps to get all of them, and few more to reduce the ankle-high two hundred year old country home into so much wreckage, but when she was finished she felt immensely satisfied with her work. Oh, how they had screamed in terror, fighting with the desperation of the doomed to get away as she brought her foot down again and again on clusters of the well-to-do until the once lovely garden and forest had become littered with her massive, bloodstained footprints. She loved it; crushing them under a bare foot simply felt more personal than demolishing buildings, and that they were more dispersed, though still clung together in small groups, had in turn made the whole affair a little more sporting for her. With each malicious stomp she made those few who survived and watched from the safety of the forest understand what they truly were to her - nothing, nothing but toys to be broken. A few less locusts getting rich on the work of others, she thought, besides, it was simply fun.

Her work done, she crossed the green lawn, ruining the work of dozens of gardeners with a few huge muddy footprints in the neatly trimmed grass and artfully arranged hedges and shrubs. The lake beckoned, and she marginally disappointed that the stupid bugs had the sense to at least evacuate that area well enough, or maybe she had caught them earlier underfoot. Cautiously she dipped her toes into the cool water, and cooed at the soothing sensation on her feet, after all they had seen a lot of work this day. Her toes wiggled and stirred up the silt, and then she continued wading towards the centre of the lake. The few pleasure boats that had drifted away from their moorings, likely left untied when their passengers docked hastily to escape, capsized in the waves caused by her passage. The water was only as deep as her knees, but it would have to do for now, so she knelt down, scooped up gallons of the clear water in her cupped hands, and splashed it on her face. She then washed out her pussy, and observed as a small handful of mangled bodies and chunks of steel concrete fell from her powerful womanhood.

As she bathed herself, Diane had time to think on her current situation. She had been having plenty of fun so far, but assuming that this growth was permanent, which she truly hoped that it was, then what was to come next for her? In truth she hadn't thought that far ahead, thinking only on her next source of fun, but sooner or later she would have to come up with some sort of plan to establish herself. She thought herself a goddess and was certainly out to prove it; and if these people didn't accept it and dared to defy her further then she would simply keep on crushing them until they eventually learned their place. It would likely be a long process, but as she wiped away the dust and filth from her body until it was clean and glistening wet, she thought that whatever it entailed would at the very least be entertaining for her.

Now clean, or as clean as she could manage with just a little lake of water with which to bathe herself, she rose back to her full size and looked around. Close by, just beyond a crest of trees, lay a large white structure, more sprawling than tall. Diane recognised it instantly; the Redwoods Shopping Mall. Her eyes sparkled at the possibilities of visiting that wretched little place, with its busy crowds, extortionate parking fees, depressing decor, and thoroughly unhelpful shop staff. As she stepped out of the lake and strode towards this monument of unbridled capitalism, droplets of water cascaded from her naked body, leaving deep puddles in her wake along with the huge footprints that always announced her passage.

Diane stepped over the row of trees, and planted her foot straight on top of a row of parked cars. The parking lot was absolutely filled with a vast variety of these colourful little metal boxes, and she amused herself briefly by trying to see how many she could fit beneath her sole. A dozen or so neatly arranged cars fit neatly beneath her sole, but she found that if she could gently nudge some into position bumper to bumper, door to door, with her sexy toes to create a goddess foot-sized lump of cars then that number more than doubled, not counting the accidents where she lost patience with trying to push the fragile vehicles into position. Of course, counting her score at the end became tedious, as differentiating where one colourful pancake squashed into the concrete ended and another began became almost impossible. She soon got bored of that game, and carried onwards to her goal, occasionally kicking at a particularly full row and sending them and a good section of tarmac flying into the distance.

The mall was a modest sized one, compared to the vast behemoths that infested her country at least. She made a mental note to visit a truly big mall, and dominate it utterly beneath her, but this one would have to do for now. It was a rough square shape, built around a central courtyard that served as the food court. Straddling one corner she knelt down, resting her knees in a wide V-shape around half of the building. Despite having enjoyed her size for some time now, she still marvelled at the sheer difference between her and thing that once loomed over her. She touched her fingers over the smooth white roof, which dimpled under her touch even when she was being as delicate as she could manage, and traced her fingers over its surface. But she wanted to get closer to her subjects, and sank her fingers into the roof and peel the flimsy structure back, revealing to her the contents with all the glee and delight of a child opening a present at Christmas.

There was one corridor that ran across the perimeter, with the stores lining either side of it, and the larger department stores positioned at the corners. Other, smaller corridors led to the food court in the exact centre. It was the department store that rested between her thighs that interested her the most; she always had a terrible time there, being judged by the stroppy teenaged staff there, or looked down upon by the richer clientele when she had to use food stamps to pay for food, or when they simply didn't have anything she wanted. She rolled the metal roof back, marvelling at how this thick steel felt like tinfoil against her massive fingers. With this store unveiled to her, she peered in, and wondered if any of the tiny bugs in the grey and blue uniform recognised her now. She hoped they did. In fact, she knew her apartment was somewhere near here, and wondered how many of her asshole neighbours were currently watching her, and regretting having kept her up at nights with their incessant parties and arguments.

Diane saw rows and rows of clothes goods, electronics, a food section that just so happened to be next to her pussy in what she thought would be a major violation of food safety standards, and other things that were simply too small to make out. She reached in, and gathered up a decent handful of full clothing racks and, yes, people too in her hand. Holding her palm out, she peered into it, and the few captured people stared back in futile horror. She was more interested in the merchandise, however, and nudged the various bits of detritus and people shivering in mute fright in her hand aside to get a better look at the fancy cocktail dresses she would have never been able to afford. Licking her index finger to dampen it with saliva, she dabbed it on a the pile she made so that a few of the now-ruined dresses stuck to the fingertip.

"These are nice," she said, addressing the terrified men and women in her hand, "but do you think you have these in my size?" She giggled playfully, and held up her captured merchandise against her chest, as though comparing them for size. Of course, there was no comparison, and the tiny bits of lovingly crafted fabric were lost in her massive cleavage. She tried to see if she could recognise any of the pathetic tiny people shivering in her palm, but no, their faces were just too small for her to make out, but she nevertheless liked to pretend one of them was a cashier who was quite rude to her last week. "No? Don't carry these in extra, extra, extra, extra, extra, extra, extra large? Well, that's too bad for you."

She closed her hand into a fist, feeling only a brief sensation of resistance as tiny limbs flailed uselessly against her gently tightening fingers until she felt a pleasing popping sensation against her digits. Diane then wiped her hand clean on a patch of clear concrete next to her, which left a grim streak of blood and viscera that were once people, were now impossible to recognise. That she had only just cleaned herself and was about to embark on another session of messy play did occur to her, but she found that didn't matter very much - getting dirty simply came with the territory of being a goddess, it seemed. There were still people inside the expansive store, running in between the ruined rows of merchandise, and she spotted a few attempting to hide inside the changing room booths. She extended the index finger of her right hand, and for a morbid sport made a game of attempting to squish each tiny person at a time. The ones hiding were the first to go, buried beneath the walls of the booths and the colossal force of her fingertip. Others she watched, trying to judge where their erratic movements would bring them, then dab her fingertip down to smear them into bloody red stains on the polished floor.

Diane grew bored of chasing them, as the tiny people who were lucky enough to avoid being squished by her finger had managed to hide in places that her imperious gaze could no longer see. Perhaps they had fled deeper into the mall, or hidden in the basements, or been brave enough to try running between her mighty toes and underneath her bare womanhood. She wanted to see more of the mall, though, and to finish off this hateful little department store she lifted her rear, the powerful muscles in her thighs working to lift incalculable tons of pure female glory, off her heels. Still on her knees, she shuffled forwards, bulldozing through the flimsy walls of the mall easily with her legs, until twin half-spheres of her massive ass was positioned directly above the sprawling store. She could think of fewer things more humiliating to them than to be crushed beneath a woman's butt, though there was always room for more experimentation as to just how nasty she could get. Her hips wiggled, sending the juicy round half-spheres jiggling sensuously; forget those whores twerking, this is what a truly huge ass bouncing looked like.

The immense rear end came down, and completely smothered the department store. It wasn't as nice a crunch as she had hoped, the structure having lost its roof and being primarily hollow with just a few shelves and people hiding. It worked spectacularly well, however, and she wiggled her butt in the large round crater it had made. The impact of so much mass, however, did caused a sudden tremor in the ground, that sent cars about a foot around her tumbling away, alarms blaring in an obnoxious chorus that irritated even the goddess. The mall wobbled awkwardly on its foundations, and for a moment Diane was worried that it might collapse in on itself like so many other pathetic, flimsy buildings she had demolished purely, or just mostly, by accident. Not out of any concern for anyone still trapped inside, of course, she still wanted to play with them. To her relief it still stood.

Diane rolled back the steel sheet roof further to reveal the food court at the direct centre. Rows upon rows of tables and chairs were spread out from the middle, and around this were the stalls of the ubiquitous fast food restaurants that were simply everywhere. She recognised McDonald's, of course, a Burger King, a Taco Bell, and so one in a bright, multi-coloured display of dull, corporate mediocrity. At first she thought she was too late and that everyone had escaped already, in which case she would simply stand up and demolish it all within a few easy steps, but on closer inspection she could see dozens and dozens, perhaps a hundred, people hiding underneath tables or inside those little stalls. In her defence it was sometimes difficult to notice tiny, half-inch tall people sometimes.

"I see you my little toys," she said, reaching down and grasping a handful. She opened up her palm, and selectively discarded the useless furniture until she had maybe ten or twenty people huddled together, staring up at her in awe or weeping in unrestrained fear. Diane wondered what to do with them, after all she had been simply squishing people beneath her feet, with her hands, tits, ass, pussy, and her entire body for much of her rampage, and she wanted to see what else her size made her capable of. At least she was getting more adept at handling tiny people now. Then, glancing back at the food court erupting into a wave of panicked horror as everyone in there realised they were no longer safe, she had a really evil but apt idea.

Her captives were brought closer to her face, in particular her soft, full lips, which parted to reveal rows of massive white teeth and a vast tongue like a writhing monster. Her hot breath caused many to gag at the smell. When it became clear that she was planning on eating them, the screams only became more intense, which in turn only fuelled Diane's growing power lust. She tilted her head back, and with it her palm so that everyone tumbled directly into her waiting mouth. A few fell straight down her gullet, unnoticed and uncared for, but the majority had landed straight onto her tongue.

Diane could feel them, after all the tongue was one of the most sensitive areas of the body if she recalled basic biology correctly. A dozen or so tiny things writhed against the rough surface of the muscle, and she held them there resisting the urge to swallow them. However, there was one instinctive response that could not be helped, and that was salivation. The fluid kept them pinned to her tongue, and if anything made the panicked attempts of her snacks to flee even more vigorous. She lifted her tongue to the roof of her mouth, crushing a few and releasing a burst of salty, meaty flavour, while the rest were dragged down to her throat. The vast muscles of her throat flexed, and they were dragged down as she instinctively swallowed these people alive. It felt amazing, imagining the horrific fate that awaited these poor people in her stomach.

"Mmm, who said that American food is awful?" she said. "All you little snacks taste so wonderful."

The colossal woman reached down into the mall once more. She wanted to do that again.

***

"Can someone please tell what the fuck is taking Battery Foxtrot so damned long?" Colonel McGregor glowered at the communications staff, each huddled at their computers, seemingly glued to their keyboards as they each tackled the monumental task of bringing the ponderous American war machine to bear on its own soil. It had been a hasty set-up; a large tent on the side of a hill served as an ad hoc command post, surrounded by all of the field artillery the Army National Guard could get their hands on, supported by unmanned combat air vehicles on loan from the Air Force. But, as a testament to the can-do attitude of the humble American GI, they had made it work, except for Battery Foxtrot, who had spent the past half an hour doing God only knows what.

One, a young, bright-eye private who despite his youth carried out his role with the professionalism it deserved, touched his earpiece and looked up at the grizzled old officer. "Battery Foxtrot reports some difficulty in receiving their ordnance, sir," he said.

"Jesus Christ," the Colonel muttered, rubbing his temples. "It all works the same! You load it in the gun, you point it at that fucking giant bimbo, and then you fire until she stops moving."

The private's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Sir, white phosphorous doesn't quite work that way. The National Guard doesn't have easy access to that."

From the corner, Lieutenant Bradley, who had been glancing through an equipment stocks report and eavesdropping on the conversation looked up. "White phosphorous?" he blurted out.

"Yes," said Colonel McGregor, "white phosphorous."

"Forgive me sir, but using that on human targets is forbidden by international law."

"I know."

"Then you know what it does."

"Yes, it sticks to human skin like a bitch and then burns flesh straight to the bone. We've got enough here to turn her into one great big skeleton, after Battery Foxtrot gets their asses organised first."

Lieutenant Bradley snorted and shook his head. "That's a bit of an overstatement, sir. But there is a reason it's banned."

Colonel McGregor raised a bushy eyebrow and regarded his subordinate; a kid fresh out of West Point, of course, whose face was still marked with acne and his head filled with memorised regulations and rules. He sucked in a deep breath, and then turned to address another of the communications staff near him. "You there, tell me what the target doing right now."

The woman at the desk peered at the screen, apparently struggling to make out the drone footage was showing her. Her face was pale and her hands trembling, for she had been given the unenviable task of monitoring the giant woman's actions. In truth, though she would never publically admit it, she envied the giantess - to be that size and dominate everyone and everything around her, to crush people and buildings alike into dust with her feet, it was a power that only the truly divine would know. But above all it wasn't fair - it was her fetish, her desire, and now it all belonged to some other woman who didn't deserve it. She crossed her legs, hoping that no one would somehow notice her arousal. "The target, uh, appears to be eating people."

"Thank you, Private." The Colonel nodded. "You hear that, Lieutenant? She's fucking eating people now. I want her dead, but I'll be sure to pass on your complaints to the Hague once we've accomplished that."

Lieutenant Bradley shook his head. "You misunderstand me, sir, my concern was for civilians still in the area."

Colonel McGregor made a quiet, impressed noise in his throat; maybe this dumb kid in an immaculate uniform wasn't quite as stupid as he first thought. "I know, son," he said, his voice quieter and more grave. "But we've seen what she's been doing, and there's nothing we can do for them anyway. This order comes direct from the Pentagon and approved by the office of the President. The white phosphorous will burn her, and keep her pinned down until the heavy artillery and drones can finish her off."

There was a pause as Lieutenant Bradley considered it, chewing on his lower lip, before he nodded his head in agreement. "Of course, sir. I just wanted to make sure."

"Artillery Battery Foxtrot reports ready, sir!" shouted another communications officer. “All artillery batteries and UCAV operators report ready to commence bombardment on your command!”

There was tangible change in the atmosphere at the news; for so long all they could do was observe and despair, but now they would fight back. There was a veritable skip in the Colonel's step as he crossed through the threshold and out into the open air. Around him, the great guns of every artillery piece he could get his hands on pointed skyward as if in salute to some ancient god of war. This hill gave a prime spot for the artillery, and he thought that were he an attacking foreign power that he could have levelled the entire city that even faster than that giant bitch could. Speaking of her, he could see her directly in front of him a good few miles away. She was on her knees and partially on top of a shopping mall, into which she would reach into and grasp handfuls of innocent people and devour them.

The sight made his blood boil; he had always been a military man, and spent his life serving his country in places like Afghanistan, the former Yugoslavia, and Iraq on two separate occasions. He should have lived out the rest of his military career in a cushy position commanding a National Guard regiment, but now he was to use American guns on American soil directed at an oversized American citizen to save more American citizens. The sheer impossible insanity of this situation was almost laughable.

It was time to end this. He grabbed his radio, depressed the button, and spoke. "Attention all batteries and UCAV operators. At my command, you will open fire. You will keep firing. You will not stop firing until that target looks like one of those poor souls she's stepped on." He paused, his heart was hammering away in his chest and his stomach was a tight knot of anxiety. It had to work; he had the awesome might and overwhelming firepower of the most technologically advanced military in the world at his disposal, and despite her immense size he was going to prove that even a self-proclaimed goddess was no match for the power of heavy artillery.

"Open fire."

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