Giantess World
The encounter in the alley had helped ignite “the mood” in Astraea, but now that she had a full plate to enjoy, and the security of knowing she wouldn’t hypothetically break her husband’s heart by gorging on this crowd, the stirring had become undeniable. She fidgeted in her aggressive squat, nigh-involuntarily moaning and letting out freshly-glistening chandelier strands of drool, though no more than a flailing arm or two of her frenzied captives were allowed to touch the world outside her lips again. The more she felt them thrash, reminding her of Mitch’s passion during last night’s romp, the more Astraea was guided to repeat the same tongue choreography she’d firmly imposed on her spouse, though naturally with a far different finishing move that pushed the presumable-mobsters in the opposite direction, toward dark rather than light. Each swallow made the volume from her sensual whines compete with the acidic scowl of her tummy; the central valley of her shorts was sure to darken with fluid if these unluckies kept on squirming so ardently on their counterclockwise tongue-powered tours of her mouth before she shoveled them into the digestive slide.
“A-minus for effort, boys,” she murmured. “But, A-plus for flavor.”
Not wanting to use up all the “braver” creatures before they had a chance to properly shiver in her omnipotent orbit, however, she now walked her middle and forefinger along like a set of fifty-foot legs, straight toward an older man who was cry-screaming orders at three gun-toting subordinates, pushing them in front as human shields, but eventually his back hit a wall. The Apex needed only the gentlest tap of a fingertip to bowl each shooter over, and then there was nothing separating her from the boss: not the head honcho, she guessed from his tremulous boggle-eyed appearance, but important enough to have a lot to lose here today, including an oversized ego.
“Go on, then, little one,” she slurred, making her fingers pace back and forth in front of the man, while more of her saliva puddled on the floor just beyond. Already he was radiating more despair than anyone else she’d been allowed to consume today. “Aren’t you going to make me an offer?”
“W-What do you want?” he blubbered with pants-wetting horror. “A-Anything here. Take it, it’s yours. You want… c-cash?”
“Honestly now,” Astraea snarked, laying a hand across her bosom. “There’s no way you haven’t heard of me. Do I really look like the kind of woman who gets paid in dollars?”
“B-Bodies, then,” he muttered with a nod. “I can get… you people. H-Hundreds. All of ‘em… alive. P-People nobody’ll miss. Merchandise. Just… f-food for ya.”
“That’s a good guess, but wrong again,” the Apex sighed with a shrug. While listening to the elder boss’s negotiating, she occasionally gave him reason to choke up by reaching down, plucking his downed guardsmen off the ground, and hurling them with a single wrist-flick toward her lips, all without breaking eye contact with him. The first two passed cleanly into the drenching blackness, riding the speckled slip-n-slide of her tongue toward the back hatch, while the third was nearly missed, bouncing off her teeth and hugging the plush pink rim of Astraea’s lower lip to keep himself from falling all the way back to the concrete below, only for the giantess to help him out by curling her red muscle all the way out and succulently coiling him into its jealous embrace. “And do you know why? Because… news flash… I don’t have to go very far to find my own food. I can still eat anyone I want, including you and all your naughty little friends here, and for once, people would actually thank me. Do better.”
“I… I…” he stammered.
“I said DO. BETTER.”
Astraea’s dramatized roar, not quite emotional but nevertheless a spit-flinging bellow that echoed through the warehouse walls and made even the tougher thugs go jelly-kneed, made the little boss slump to the ground and flatten harder to the wall. It was as though the sound waves themselves had crucified him there, though in reality it was the fear which only came once he truly comprehended that he couldn’t use money or influence to get out of this jam: a far richer flavor of distress than the Apex had extracted yet from the hired grunts still scurrying at her feet.
“See, there you go,” she congratulated, a molasses-like dollop of excess saliva spilling in a continuous rope from her lip to the floor before it split. Astraea spread both palms on the ground and cruised them lethargically toward the wall, until her drumming fingertips flanked the little fellow on either side. The further forward she lurched her Olympian figure, the more the shadow of her chiseled overhanging thighs overtook her next quivery snack. “I knew you could come up with something good to offer, if only you set your mind to it.”
“P-Please don’t… d-don’t do this,” he minced, all bravado dissipated. The older man clasped both hands in prayer and looked up at the beautiful silver-haired doombringer squatted directly above him, doing his best to ignore her elegant claws poised threateningly on either side of him like fallen redwoods. “I’m… n-not worth it.”
“Oh, I have no doubt about that. The value of your life, I mean,” she agreed in a flinty whisper. “But… and I mean this as the highest compliment… you really are one cowardly little bastard.”
Getting ravenous now, Astraea skipped the airborne tricks and simply indulged her occasionally-animalistic verve, cocking her head with a final smile that wrung a last drop of psychological torment from him, before she lunged tongue-first for the ground with a viper’s speed, briefly sandwiching the screaming little creature between the wall and her oozing taste buds right at the organ’s center. When the metal barrier began to buckle from the strength of the Apex’s flat-tongued sampling, she scrape-licked him straight up the surface for eighty feet before gulping the boss fully within and consuming him mind, body, and soul on a bedding of gushing drool and well-done anguish.
“All right, enough playing around,” Astraea gravely proclaimed to the rest as she wiped her mouth and languorously swallowed down the most pleasurable nether-awakening bite yet of today’s outing. Tilting back on the axis of her shapely physique, around which the terror and spectral being of every entrapped man now gravitated toward thanks to her sheer presence, she breathily addressed her public with just enough snarl to keep their adrenaline high. “I wonder which of you can top him? I won’t lie, boys, your manager or whoever that was got pretty darn spooked, so you’ve got your work cut out for you, though I have faith that at least one of you is up to the task. I can smell it from here. Well, let’s face it, you’re all about ready to faint as it is. But we can still push that a little further. So, who’d like to go cave-diving next?”