Wilfred ceased praying when he heard footsteps approaching him from behind, reverberating through the church hall. He stood up from his kneeling position and straightened his robe. His bushy brows furrowed deeper than they already were when he saw Pascal, his head priest scurrying up to him like prowling tigers were pursuing him.

"Your holiness, come quick! There's an uproar in the eastern province!" Pascal said, looking all tattered like he hadn't had a good night's rest for two straight weeks.

Wilfred fiddled at his salt and pepper beard – a thing he allowed to grow to appear more authoritative – and thought diligently of a way to weasel out of his responsibility as the highest spiritual leader. He desperately craved to see his stepdaughter, his Goddess – even for a fleeting glimpse.

Celeste has not shown herself for weeks. Every morning when Wilfred stood up, he walked over to his balcony – that looked out over a great plaza where he occasionally addressed his followers – and looked with hope at the heavenly high boot rising beyond their city's skyline. It was still there.

Every time upon looking at it, Wilfred had the vain hope of seeing that it was no longer there, that The Goddess took the boot to wear for the day. Or to see a ginormous hand tumbling from the sky to collect it. Wilfred yearned to see a sign that his Goddess was still there, even indirectly.

However, most of all, he wanted to explore Celeste's hot body – but that was a thing he kept for himself.

Wilfred sighed. "Just send General Quasat to deal with it." He waved his hand dismissively and was about to walk off to continue his prayers in an endless attempt to contact his Goddess. But Pascal was not done yet.

"Impossible. General Quasat is the one leading this uproar, the instigator of this uprising, your holiness. There's a massive army on its way to the Capitol to overthrow you as we speak!"

Wilfred spun around, looking at his head priest in utter disbelief. "Overthrow?! Me?! The one who stands closest to The Goddess?!"

Pascal nodded. "I'm afraid so, your holiness. More and more people are starting to believe that The Goddess has abandoned us. Has abandoned you. She hasn't been seen for weeks."

"How many times do I have to tell you infidels that she lives in our hearts!" Wilfred snapped. "I knew this time would come one day."

"But people need a sign, your holiness. Some tangible evidence that The Goddess still lives among us."

"Mere mortals have nothing to 'want'! They should be grateful for having me. A physical presence that stands in direct connection with The Goddess."

"Excuse me my audacity, your holiness. B-but you have also not seen her for some time, haven't you?" Pascal asked.

Wilfred's nostrils fluttered with anger as he breezed: "How dare you question my authenticity!" He flashed his finger. "Do I need to throw you into the dungeons?"

Pascal opened his mouth to say something before a deep rumble made both men rush to the window.

Wilfred gaped at the humongous boot soaring beyond the skyline in hopes of seeing his Goddess. A giggle thundered down from the sky. But it was not a laughter Wilfred recognized as his stepdaughter's. It was, however, a peal of laughter he knew though.

Pascal, who stood next to him, gasped as a hand the size of a city emerged in the sky, reaching out to grab the boot.

Pascal removed his hat and sank down on his knees. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at Wilfred. "Your prayers have been heard, your holiness! She back! The Goddess is back!"

"No, she's not," Wilfred said as he scrutinized the hand that took hold of the boot. It looked feminine, alright. But it wasn't Celeste's. After thoroughly examining Celeste for years, Wilfred could tell this with ease. It was, however, a hand of someone he knew, though. A smiling face appeared above them, blocking out the light coming from the ceiling lamp.

"Emma," Wilfred said as his wife's beautiful face leered down upon them, her chestnut locks held out of her face by her hand. She looked amazingly sexy! Upon seeing her soaring above them all as an all-powerful giantess, Wilfred wanted nothing more than to worship her. His cravings for Celeste, his Goddess, were pushed to the background for the moment.

"Ahum," Pascal cleared his throat, tearing Wilfred's attention away from his gigantic wife. "what are your orders, your holiness?"

Pascal's eyes shifted uncomfortably between his eyes and Wilfred's lower region, making Wilfred glare at him in annoyance. It was only then that Wilfred realized that he was shamelessly jerking himself off while moaning deeply. The sight of his comely wife was too much for him to bear – especially after being deprived of the holiness of his stepdaughter for so long.

"Get out!" Wilfred screeched. He needed private time.

"B-but what about the uprising, your holiness?" Pascal stammered.

"LEAVE!" Wilfred bellowed. Pascal hurried out of the room like a mouse being chased by a cat.

Deep rumbles were felt, shaking Wilfred's palace at its foundation, when Emma stood up to her full height. She donned both boots and loomed over them while looking down upon them with her hands resting upon her hips. It was then that Wilfred saw that his wife was wearing her leather mistress outfit, clasped tightly around the rousingly curvy contours of her body.

It was a sight that was too much for Wilfred. He wanted to worship Emma immediately. He sank to his knees, throbbing cock still clasped in his hand, and spoke out loud: "I hereby renounce my faith in The Goddess Celeste and submit myself to her mother and my wife, The Goddess Emma!"

Emma's laughter seemingly split the sky open as it thundered overhead. "A bit of leather here and an alluring smile there and you're willing to convert, just like that. Would you abandon me also if my sister came parading here in stilettos and a mini skirt?"

Seeing Emma's five years younger sister Ciska as a godlike giantess while donned in stilettos and a mini skirt was a very tantalizing thought. Emma was probably right. If Ciska came here, looming over their shrunken society, he would probably submit to her also and forget about the other one. But he would never say that out loud.

"Sleazebag," Emma said, voice punctuated with disgust.

"I should just crush you beneath my boot and be done with it. A pity that The Goddess has other plans."

The Goddess? Wilfred jerked up. Is she still here?

"The Goddess has never left, idiot." Emma spat. Replying to his thoughts. "She has just chosen to live beyond the reality of our own. She has selected me as her successor and granted me the powers of a demigoddess so I can hold my grip on humanity."

"But, w-will I ever see her again?" Wilfred sulked. "Will I ever be able to venerate her in person?"

Emma snorted. "You mean ogling over her body? You will always be able to see the Goddess, Wilfred. Just look up."

"But there is no sky here!" Wilfred protested. "We're in her bedroom, remember?"

"Like I said," Emma continued, sounding a bit ruffled. "Look up."

Wilfred rolled his eyes upwards, staring, for his feeling, pointlessly at the ceiling of Celeste's bedroom. Up, countless lightyears away beyond an impregnable barrier, was someone observing him, smiling at him.

"Celes! Come down here, honey. I want you to meet someone!"

16-year-old Celeste took one long gander at her most precious possession, resting in a handheld wooden box. A whole galaxy swirled there within the confines of a small chest resting in Celeste's hand – with an uncountable number of suns, planets, and other celestial bodies orbiting in space. One particular planet held a special place in her heart. A blue-green one named Earth. She blew a kiss before closing the lid.

"Coming, mom!" she answered the call coming from downstairs. She stretched out, groaned, and placed her precious chest on her nightstand. Later that evening, when Celeste went to bed, she would stare at it all hypnotized until her eyelids became as heavy as rocks.

While mumbling the lyrics of a song that was residing in her head, Celeste made her way downstairs, where her mother greeted her in the living room with her new squeeze standing beside her.

"Hi! You must be, Celeste! I've heard so much about you," A friendly man said as he reached out a hand.

Celeste's answered the man's invitation for a handshake and gave him a dazzling smile in return. "And you must be, Andy! Nice to meet you!"

Celeste's heart leaped with joy when she recognized the longing in the man's eyes as he examined her from top to toe.

Yes, this promised to become a lovely day! No doubt about it!