Prompt: girls pampering giant cow girl

Sixteen delicate hands softly danced on Betty's skin; sixteen hands belonging to eight dainty milkmaids who sat on her hundred-foot figure, resting on her smooth belly or her rounded breasts. Stroking her as delicately as the breeze that ruffled her hair, they brought her to the fullest relaxation, where, devoid of thoughts, her mind occupied itself solely with the sensations relayed by her body.

When one of her kind was to be milked, the closer she was to this state, the better the quality of the milk. Milk they produced in perfect bliss, said humans, could cure any ailment of body, mind, or soul, convey the same blissful state. Whether that was true she didn't know, but she loved these moments all the same, and especially loved any time she could spend with these eight orphan girls, the only humans to whom she'd bestow her nectar, and whom she'd come to love as daughters.

The maids, too, loved this giant as their mother, and they cherished their time with her far more than any earnings brought to them by her milk, for which they were eternally indebted to her. Indeed, their visit today held no further motive than a wish to share in her company.

Once the ease of her breathing let them know that she slept, the milkmaids climbed atop her bosom, four on each of her breasts, and lay around her nipples. Laying hands on those pink nubs as big as their heads, they tenderly massaged them, getting them up to their full size, finally extracting a small trickle of the giantess's pearly-white ambrosia—pure distilled love.

They took turns drinking or keeping the flow going until all had had their fill. A perfect calm then filled them, and with a yawn, each lay her head atop the soft surface of the giantess's breasts, some even letting themselves slide down to her belly or cleavage without so much as a flinch, all falling into deep slumber, blanketed with Betty's warmth and love.

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Prompt: Spy girl and tiny partner

The maid wore a focused look as she went into Ms. Van Dyke's room. Instantly she spotted her target—two gold earrings with a pair of opals hanging from them—and picked them up, leaving another identical pair in their place.

Had anyone been there to see her, they would have taken her for a thief after the mistress's jewelry, leaving fakes in place of the real earrings to hide her theft. But Alice didn't steal anything except secrets, and she knew better than to let herself be seen—she had made sure before coming that she'd be the only person in this wing of the mansion. Besides, she was only putting the real earrings back in their place.

Alice looked at the fake earrings in her hand, weighing her options. Reaching a decision, she pulled a needle out from her dress and turned one of the earrings over until she found the spot she was looking for. Pressing the needle on it, she heard a soft click and saw the opal split open, revealing a compartment in which sat a tiny man, five millimeters tall, looking out at her. "Hello, David, " she said, lowering the earring to her palm so he could climb out.

"Alice?" he said, his words barely reaching her ears even with his voice amplifier. "Is something wrong? You weren't supposed take me out yet."

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," she said, unable to keep a blush from her cheeks. She knew it wasn't professional of her, but she couldn't help herself; he was just so small and weak and frail and... cute.

"Oh. Really?" he asked. "Well, I'm fine, I guess. No need to worry about me. But, thanks for asking."

Alice was about to speak when her earpiece beeped—someone had triggered a motion sensor. "Shoot, someone's coming," she said.

"Quick, the fake earring!"

"No time; I have to leave now. I'm sorry, David," she said, slipping him and the earrings back into her breast pocket as she left the room. Her heart was beating so fast, yet she felt oddly calm now that David was back with her.

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Prompt: giantess massage parlour for tinies

"Anon? Is that really you?"

Your heart skips a beat as you turns towards the voice, seeing Hannah coming toward you. She was a pretty girl when you last saw her in middle school, but as an adult, she is beautiful; radiant as an angel come to Earth.

"Hi, Hannah," you manage to say as she crouches over you.

"Oh my gosh, it really is you! How have you been? Did you come to make an appointment?"

"N-no, I just heard you were working here so I thought I'd visit."

"Then, why don't I give you a little massage while we catch up?"

"I don't think I could afford that," you admit.

"Don't worry, it's on the house; and I'm not letting you leave here without one! Now, come here." Her hand curls around your body, the other cups beneath you, then you're brought against her chest—exactly how she used to carry you before. Although, her chest is a bit more cushioned than the last time she did this.

The two of you make small-talk as she carries you into a small room. There she sits on a reclining chair and unbuttons her shirt.

"Now, just relax and try to enjoy yourself." She slips you into her cleavage, her boobs hugging your sides, her smiling face looming above. Grabbing ahold of her breasts, she presses them against your body, slowly at first, then more firmly, so that your whole body is enveloped by her. She rolls her mammaries against you, kneading all the tension out of your body. Your thoughts and all your worries dissolve into the surrounding warmth. Unable to form words, you mumble something indecipherable as thanks.

"You really like this, huh?" she giggles. "Come over to my house anytime you want a massage; I'd be glad to have you over. I really missed you, you know? Promise you'll visit again soon?" she asks, stopping the massage for a second. Curling up against her, you nod in response. She smiles, and continues the massage.

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Prompt: Napping with gigantic little sister.

"Big brother?" Mary says. "Do you think they'll ever find a cure for me?"

"I don't know," you say without opening your eyes or leaving your position lying atop her chest. Above, you hear the rustling of leaves in the wind and the sounds of the wildlife. "I don't think anyone does."

They've been looking for a way to stop her growth for a decade now and there still haven't been any breakthroughs. Now, at 11 years old, she's over 50 feet tall, so big that you're like a doll to her and her footsteps shake the earth for many yards around.

"Do you think I'll keep growing forever?"

"I don't know."

"Could I grow so big that I can't even see you anymore?"

"Jeez, what's with all these questions while I'm trying to sleep?" you ask, shooting her a glare that softens when you see the worried look on her face. Evidently she's been giving this a lot of thought—too much of it, you'd say. "There's no way you'll grow that big, sis," you tell her. "You'd need to be, like... I don't know how many miles tall for that to happen. You probably won't even make it to 200 feet."

"You think so?"

"I'm sure of it; you'd have to be growing way faster than you are now. Besides, you'll probably stop growing before then. Girls usually stop growing by the time they're 16," you say, lying down on her chest again. "You'll still be able to see me and hold me, even if I'm as big as a mouse to you by then.

"Thanks, Anon," she sighs, reaching up to cover you with her hands. They cup over you gently, covering everything save your head and feet. You keep watch as she yawns and closes her eyes, her breath rushing past you on the way out. Soon a smile creeps onto her face and she's fast asleep.

Once you're sure she's asleep, you roll over and snuggle against her fingers, which curl around you, holding you gently. Let her grow as big as she will, you think; you'll watch over her whatever size she is.

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Prompt: Really big but really lazy.

"Anooooon! My foot itches, can you go scratch it for me?"

"Me? Why don't you just scratch it yourself?"

"Because it's like, three hundred feet away. You're wayyy closer to it than I am. Besides, I'd have to roll over to scratch it, and then I'd end up sitting on you. You don't want that to happen, do you?"

"Fine, I'll do it," you sigh, getting up from your spot on her lower back and trudging up her butt towards her foot. "Is it the right foot or the left one?"

"The left one. Please hurry; it itches so much!"

You trek across her thigh  calf before making it to the cuff of her socks. "Can you at least take your socks off? How am I supposed to get to your foot?"

"There should be a hole big enough for you down near my toes," she says.

"Really? Ugh, fine." You cross her sole, find the hole, and crawl inside. "Okay, I'm in! Now, where's the itch?"

"A bit further up! Further. No, go back a bit. To the left. No, the other way! That's right. Keep going. You just passed it. Right there! Quick, Anon, scratch it!" You dig your fingers into her sole and scratch it all over the spot in question. "That's it! Ooohhh, Anon, you're a lifesaver. Just a bit further left... Perfect! You got it, honey! Come back up and I'll give you a reward."

Stifling a groan at the prospect of having to make another trek to her shoulder, you go back and try to find the hole you can in from. It takes a minute, but you soon find it and crawl back out. From there you go back up her leg, and after trekking up and down her buttocks and all the way across her back, you finally reach her shoulder. You're about to give her a piece of your mind when in one swift motion she picks you up and brings you to her lips, which press in against you, enveloping your whole body in a kiss. "Thank you so much! You're the best, Anon!" she says, cuddling you against her cheek.

"Y-you know me; always happy to lend a hand."

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Prompt: Post wild romp comfy morning

You're woken up a slight motion; maybe an earthquake, you think. Either way, it's over now, and despite the light reaching your eyelids, you're still about to go back to sleep, feeling spent after last night, when you realize there's something off about your "bed". It's not supposed to be this warm, or have this texture. You reach up to rub eyes, and notice it takes some effort to get your arm unstuck from the surface you're on.

Blinking your eyes as they adjust to the light, the memories flood back. "The shrink ray!" you say aloud; how could you have forgotten the fun you had with Gina last night thanks to that device? You'd both talked about getting one since before you got married; actually having one was like a dream come true for you.

Smiling, you close your eyes and prepare to fall asleep snuggled up between the tan hills of Gina's breasts again when suddenly there ground shifts again. You look up and see your wife's sleepy face a she starts to get up, stretching and groaning. When she sits up, you slide out of her cleavage and down her smooth belly, landing on the bed between her thighs. You stand and prepare to greet her, only to have her thighs come together, squeezing you between them.

Gina makes a confused sound and her thighs part. "Oh!" she exclaims as she sees you. "I'm sorry, honey, I totally forgot you were sleeping on me!" She scoops you up into her hands, caressing you with her thumb as she lifts you to her face where eyes the size of beach balls examine you. "Oh, you're all covered in my..." She doesn't finish, instead licking a thumb and finger and using them to rub away the flakes of dried vaginal fluid that cover you.

"I don't have any work today," she says. "What do you say we get you cleaned you up, have some breakfast, and then spend the rest of the day cuddling around the house?"

"I'm up for doing anything as long as it's with you," you say, and she meets your smile with one of her own.

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Prompt: Noble Giantess meets blind slave

Wherever Lady Clarissa walked, bands of tiny people—slaves no bigger than a mouse who worked cleaning the floors—scurried out of her way to stand against the walls as she passed.

Over her fifteen years of living in this castle, that had become a regular part of life, not even registering with her anymore. On this occasion, however, one slave didn't move out of the way, remaining trembling in the middle of the hall and looking all around while she drew near.

She came to a stop just before him, frowning at him. He wasn't even looking at her, his gaze being aimed between her feet. "You there, slave! What is your name?"

"A-are you perchance talking to me, my Lady?" he asked.

"Who else could I be talking to? Tell me your name and why you didn't move out of the way with the others. And look at me when I speak to you!" she said, stomping a foot next to him.

"I-I'm Jacob, my Lady," he said, turning his gaze up, "and I didn't know where to run."

"What do you mean you didn't know where to run?"

"My Lady, I'm... blind."

"...Oh," Clarissa said, feeling a pang of guilt. She considered the tiny slave for a minute. "You're blind, yet you were set to clean the floors?"

"That's so, my Lady."

"I'll need to have a word with whatever imbecile happened to make that decision," she growled. "Now, stand still; I'm going to pick you up." Crouching, she carefully scooped him up into her hands, where he lay as stiff as a board. "Don't worry, you're in no trouble," she said, patting his chest with her thumb. "I'll see that you're put to work in my chambers—somewhere you're not at risk of being stepped on." Somewhere she could keep on eye on him, too.

"Th-thank you, my Lady," he said, a bit less stiff now. "You have my eternal gratitude."

"'Tis nothing. I'm simply doing my duty," she muttered, stroking him under her thumb. A Lady had to care for those beneath her, even for slaves like him.