Since the riot in the canteen, a heat wave had scorched the prison. The sun beat down, an angry eye burning the dirt and everything on it, relentless. Mother nature was working along a coincidental parallel. With the heat, came enflamed tensions, skirmishes breaking out like a rash across the prison. Cell block B as a whole was an open, raw nerve. Any slight, no matter how small, could start a brawl. A brawl that could mutate into a battle. A battle that could develope into a riot. Guards were on edge, even more brutal, ready to shut things down before they could even start.

All commerce between gangs had halted, drugs and contraband a second thought to survival. The battle lines had been drawn and now a clock was ticking down, sands running through the hourglass, counting down to the bloody climax.

Not even the guards were safe.

Jackson was sweating through his uniform, heat, humidity and stress becoming a trifecta of bodily response. He walked stiffly, doing his best not to run. Eyes burned into his back as he hurried down the corridor. A laugh floated along the tiles, following him. "Where you going?" Echoed behind it.

Fuck, she was close. She was so fucking big now that unless he was sprinting she could keep up with nothing more than a walk. She already knew the answer to her question. He was heading to the bathrooms. The showers. It was the only thing at the end of this corridor. A dead end. The only place he could go.

A tactical error?

He walked in, checking under the stalls for anyone inside. Showers hissed deeper into the cavernous room, signalling that he wasn't alone.

A monstrous form filled the doorway, stealing his attention away. Dark hair came into view as she forced her curves through the door.

"H-hey, wait. We... There's people in here someone -" A hand engulfed the bottom of his face, powerful arm swinging him around and sending him crashing through a stall door. He landed on the toilet, teetering on the edge before he righted himself. Sat there, even lower, even smaller before the mountain that followed after him, he watched.

His eyes widened as her huge hips filled the cramped stall, her shoulders cutting off light almost as well as the stall door would have. That blue, flimsy door closed, lock chunking into place. They were encased in this tiny box, so close to him that he could smell her floral perfume. "Please, j-just wa-" Again, his words were cut short, his cap soaring into the air as it was slapped off. Long fingers gripped a fistful of hair, his head cranked back.

Pink, soft, full lips met his. Jessica let out a moan, eyes closed as she enjoyed her conquest. She was fresh off her most recent dose, skin still tingling as the hormonal high lingered. It always made her ravenous. Food or sex, both appetites became bottomless.

As soon as the 7'1 hourglass returned to gen pop, Jackson felt the crosshairs on him. He'd tried not to make a scene as he excused himself for a smoke break. Jessica was like a succubus, libido out of this world, demanding and oh, so fucking hot. Curves that were something straight out of some teenagers fantasy. Logic defying. Gravity defying. Abundant. The cup literally overfloweth. Bra cups as well as the metaphorical cup of Jackson's sexual drive. He couldn't keep up with the insatiable woman, struggling to satisfy her. It was doubly difficult given that their relationship was bound to secrecy.

Multiple times a day he'd disappear from his shift to be fucked into oblivion. Returning to his post, battered, uniform a mess and exhausted. He was actually kind of amazed his dick could handle it. His hips and pelvis were becoming bruised from the immense power coming down on him. Flesh and bones being tenderised over and over by the increasingly large woman.

Yet even with all the battery and stress of being caught, just seeing her got his engine running. She'd conditioned him like Pavlov's dog. She was the dinner bell.

Their teeth smacked against each other, Jessica wildly forcing more of her thicker, longer tongue into his mouth. Jackson let out a whimper of a moan, hips thrusting subconsciously, dick pressed against the zipper of his uniform. After every dose she came back bigger, she treated him rougher, and she was more in control. He'd previously tried to wrestle a semblance of power back but it had become impossible two doses ago. Following the current of the river was the only way not to be drowned by it. At this point her overwhelming him, taking control, being dominant... It all just turned him on more. Precum was leaking out of his sore dick as the tongue in his mouth bullied his, a testament to that point. He could hardly breath. She was driving and he was a horny passenger blessed to be on the ride.

The giantess broke the kiss, extracting her organ and leaving only saliva connecting them for a brief second. Jackson breathed, panting "Y-you smell so fucking good." Shockingly, he managed a whole sentence. "What perfume is that?"

Jessica laughed, playing with the brown tuft of hair in her fingers. "Dude, I'm in prison. I don't have perfume."  She ran her zipper down along her overalls, revealing milky, creamy, tantalising skin. She didn't even have to zip it all the way down. Passed a certain point the burgeoning curves packed into the red forced it down. The material opened like a hungry mouth, copper zipper catching on the nubs of her pink, puffy nipples. She was naked underneath? A tsunami of saliva filled his mouth, the dinner bell resonating in his head, deafening. Her answer was lost in his frontal lobe, more primal thoughts taking centre stage.

Leaning in, swallowed by the floral, musty sent, his lips met silk. Even with her higher body fat compared to the other trial subjects Jessica still had two pillars of abs, a trio of lines framing the muscles. Jackson peppered them with kisses, working lower as his hands went up into the overhanging masses above. He didn't know what cup size the watermelons overhead were but, frankly, he didn't care. All he knew was that his hands were undersized for the task. That didn't stop him. Fingers kneaded tit, thumb flickering over a nipple, releasing it from the fabric prison. Jessica shivered, giggling at the tingles that radiated along her nerves. She kept her grip on the brown joy stick of hair and gently pulled Jackson up.

He was presented with a nipple, erect, solid and awaiting stimulation. Lips eagerly clamped to the tit, tongue dancing as he sucked. She almost buckled, leaning her weight onto the smaller man. Reaching down, biceps pushing her tits together, she went for his belt.

Dexterity and practice let her unbuckled it without looking. She dug a hand into the denim and stroked the long, diamond hard member hidden inside. She and Jackson had been fucking on and off for months. It all started one weekend where she teasingly brushed her chest against him. When she saw the outline form in his jeans she'd been taken by surprise. He was fucking hung.

His big, scary monster was much more manageable now though. Instead, her dripping, hungry, voracious cunt was the monster. Her vulva flexed at that thought, head rolling back she gave a guttural groan. God, it was fun being in charge. Knowing she could pin the big guard down and ride him for as long as she wanted. He'd plead to be let go eventually, to go back to his post before someone got suspicious. She could keep him there all fucking day of she wanted. Thick juices seeped into red overalls, darkening the fabric. Fuck, she needed this NOW.

Jackson's shoulders hit the porcelain as he was pushed away. "Off." She said, pointing to his uniform and flicking the finger away. The guard frantically did as told, never taking his eyes off of the Goddess before him. She shrugged off the overalls, shimmying them down her expansive hips. That scent grew more powerful, sending Jackson's cock spasming, bouncing free. A rope of precum caught the light as it arched to splat on his thigh.

Jessica loomed closer, and in a moment, she straddled him, knees pressing against the stall walls, forcing them to flex around her. She lowered herself, ass swallowing the man. Using a hand to guide him, she brought his cock closer. Nectar spilled over the pulsing rod before his swollen, crimson tip even touched her. She rubbed him up and down her starved pussy, slathering him in her sex. Heavily, she brought her weight down on him, taking almost his entire length in one go. He grunted into the wall of tit his face was submerged in, her scent and the feel of her against him making his head spin. Two sweaty bodies undulated together.

Jessica gripped the tops of the stalls, lifting herself and crashing down, mingling pain with pleasure for the guard. Her pussy lips swelled, engorging and greedily gobbling up even more dick. Every. Single. Millimeter. She wanted it all.

He helplessly grabbed onto her hips, pale ass cheeks filling his hands. She rose again, another meteorite barrage inbound. Her muscles gripped him tighter, hauling him skywards too. His ass lifted from the lid of the toilet, which clattered noisily, stuck to his thighs due to the heat. Jessica came down like a blacksmith's hammer, knocking the air from his lungs and taking his length in deeper. The toilet cracked, unable to handle the impact. Then again, truthfully, neither could Jackson, his lanky body being turned to mulch day by day. No one had taken his entire dick like this in his life, so sacrificing his body was a small price.

She sped up, a rhythm forming. Jackson couldn't do anything besides cling on, grit his teeth and try to balance on the edge of orgasm. He tried to hold on. "Oh f-fu-I-I'm-" Between thrusts he could barely get words out. Going rigid, the guard gasped, cumming against gravity into the woman. She sensed his premature orgasm and tutted. They weren't done yet. They weren't stopping until she was fucking satisfied.

Her folds milked him, sucking every drop from the man as continued using him. Amazingly he didn't go soft. As if her vice grip was stopping it.

It was a mind numbing pleasure which made Jackson's toes curl and his eyes roll. Succubus black magic. The scent swirled in his mind. Her scent. It grew more powerful until finally the dam burst and Jessica pulled Jackson's limp body into an embrace. She held him, cocooned in tit and ab and arms as she rode the wave, grinding him into the toilet, keeping that same rhythm.

Until she was done.

Jennifer was laid out in the yard looking up at the blue sky, praying for cool, refreshing droplets to come down and end the heatwave. It was a silly notion but Jennifer clung onto the hope that the rain ending the heat wave would also bring an end to the insanity in her cell block.

She hadn't been able to talk or even see Trish since the riot in the canteen. The infirmary had been bursting with injured inmates and a lock down was started. The three giant women in the middle of the chaos had emerged mostly unharmed. Some bruises here and there, a cut lip, a black eye and a handful of stab marks was all that remained by the next day. Even the tear gas seared eyes were fine. There were rumours that they'd put the three inmates into isolation, but Smith had intervened, pulling the puppet strings. Another, less likely, rumour was that Vásquez had been too big to fit in the isolation room. Once locked in, she'd broken the door down.

Studying the one whispy, pale cloud in the sky, Jennifer internally laughed at the idea that Vásquez could have done that. She'd been in isolation once and the door to the hot box had been almost as thick as her hand stretched out. How on earth could anyone break that?

A shadow enveloped her. "Are you okay?" An accented voice asked, laced with a deep perplexion.

Sitting up, Jennifer looked to Selina, shading her eyes with an arm, stopping the sunlight behind the woman from being absolutely blinding. "I'm fine."

"I thought that you were dead." Laughed Selina. A yawn had to be stifled before the next question. "Why are you laying here?"

"I'm just taking a break from working out. I'll go back soon." Jennifer nodded to the Lobos in the yard. A large shape overshadowed the group, a mountain on the horizon.

"Ah, okay. It's just that, most people relax in the shade..." Selina looked around. "Although, now that I look, I see none."

Jennifer let out a short laugh. Muscles shifted under her tight t-shirt as she got to her feet, standing over Selina. The olive skinned woman gave a whistle. "You've done some more growing, no?" She chuckled elbowing the blonde in the side. "Is hanging out with the giant rubbing off on you?"

Selina's over average 5'9 would have seemed huge to Jennifer a while ago. Her proud grin was far above that though. Regular work outs, less latina tax on her food, and fewer injuries, had let her growth flourish. She was almost 6'5 now, standing much, much closer to Trish and Jessica's heights last week. She was gaining on the amazonians, loving the race for more size. It was actually interacting with people outside of the programme that really highlighted the size change to Jennifer. People were starting to seem small, giving her a feel of... Superiority. It felt arrogant thinking it but she really did just feel bigger and better than those around her. Like she'd transcended normal people. Jennifer wouldn't let her ego grow out of check though, she was still her, just as Vásquez had said. Maybe if she just had more confidence then she'd be able to put her body to use and defend herself.

Some situations were still unwinnable. Even if some guards seemed puny now, that wasn't a fight she wanted to have. Her size was a double edged sword in that regard. On one hand, she could take a baton blow better. On the other, the guard's were much faster to give a knee jerk reaction to anything she did. Especially with the current climate.

"I guess so." Jennifer replied. "It's for sure helped with working out." Curling an arm, she proudly showed off her shirt straining bicep. It was between the size of a large orange and a grapefruit, the white material squeaking around it.

The smaller woman looked genuinely surprised by the muscle. "Well, that... Looks good." She shook her head, "God, she really is rubbing off on you, isn't she? How has she been? How have you two been?" That was a loaded question. One building on their last conversation.

The intense heat wave coupled with more frequently spending time outside had toasted Jennifer cheeks a light tan colour. A light tan colour which was now slightly tinted with a different warmth. The sun, baking the two women, made the moments between question and answer seem like eternity. "She's good. She's been, um, kind of quiet. Y'know, besides helping with working out." Jennifer worded the response carefully, picking words and facts, shying away from any emotional description or tone. Her body betrayed her further, face growing more red.

As if to spite her, a roar of a laugh came from the mountain over at the weights. Selina turned to the noise, Jennifer following her gaze. Through a half yawned came, "well, it seems that she is loud over there." A twist of the knife in Jennifer's side. "Soooo," Selina poked an ab, "she's just being quiet with you?" There was a sincere curiousity in the question, but also just a hint of a cunning, gossip hungry sparkle in her brown eyes. She was scanning Jennifer, reading her.

The added heat in her face intensified under the scrutiny. It was easy to underestimate Selina due to her lathargic demeanour, but holy shit she could have been a detective or a journalist. Jennifer sighed, caving in. "I don't know..."  She confessed, shaking her head. "I don't know how to feel about it. About everything."

Selina's expression softened and her devilish prying ended.  She gripped Jennifer's hand in her own, squeezing gently. "I can understand that, mija." Empathy. As rare in the penitentiary as water was in their surroundings. "There's a lot going on right now... For everyone." A smile returned then. "But hey, at least you finally believe me now." She winked languidly, eyes moving at a sloth's pace.

"I didn't say that!" Jennifer tried and failed to feign ignorance, pulling her hand away.

Selina wagged a finger. "Stop pretending." She chided teasingly. "You did not need to say anything, 'blondie'. I can see it." She tapped close to her eye, grin shining.

A string of numbers reeled off by a guard startled the two women. The guard waited, eyes behind a pair of aviators, watching. Selina looked back to her guinea pig friend, "I have been summoned." She shrugged, turning to leave, continuing over her shoulder. "There is only one person that can give you the answer you want!"

"Who said I have a question?" Jennifer barked back.

Selina scoffed, "denial again? Really?"

Wiping the sweat off of her brow, Jennifer watched the woman be led away. Across the yard another set of eyes were watching too. Their thoughts intersected. 'I wonder when my next dose is?'

Mulling those parting words over, Jennifer decided that her break had been long enough. She approached crescent of women crowded around Vásquez. Regular sized women looking like children, staring in wonderment as the latina lifted mystifying amounts of iron. She was easily visible over their heads. Most came to her hips, only a few reaching near her navel. The crowds had grown around Vásquez as her body did. Ill fitting clothes added to the spectical, having shrunk around her ever growing form. The frayed shorts looked like an unconventional thong, only the elastic waist fitting well while the material around her legs had been torn and split. The vest was a curtain of a boob tube now, her entire midriff cooled by the air as the swell of two orbs were partially visible as underboob. The triple dose resulted in a more aggressive passive growth as well. Trish, Jessica and Jennifer were growing an inch or so a day. Vasquez was bloating bigger faster. Much faster. She'd been complaining about her joints hurting and itching but Jennifer knew she was secretly enjoying the signs of even more rapid expansion.

The blonde couldn't imagine how surreal it must be growing so much so fast. It was staggering to think of, but the titanic beast was almost into the double digits now. She stood at 9'9. From that immense height it must have been hard to stay grounded. Jennifer battled with her ego but Vásquez must have had an uphill struggle to keep her own in check. To the latina's credit, she didn't treat those close to her too differently. Her enemies weren't so lucky.

She'd been increasing the pressure on K13 specifically, offended that they'd sided with the nation. Despite being granted a sickening number of calories by Smith, she was still supplementing her diet with stolen meals from the other gang. She'd just pluck the tray right out of someone's hands from above and empty the whole contents into her mouth. If anyone retaliated they'd be crushed into dust before their comrades could rally help.

It wasn't just food though. Vásquez was single handedly cutting people down, sending swathes of women to the infirmary. Humiliating women, making them beg, torturing them. Just this morning she'd crashed the showers and devasted a dozen women at once. She'd used someone's face to get off too, grinding them against her body. The ultimate humiliation... There was still a little jealousy in Jennifer.

Bicep curls were a cover for the blonde. A way to look busy as she stared, hypnotised as usual by the chiseled woman. Bending down, Vásquez gripped not one, but two barbells. Two Olympic bars, parallel to each other, stacked with as much weight as they could hold. She puffed her chest out, straightening her back, exhaled, inhaled and stood. The bars lagged behind her, bending as her strength countered gravity. The sagging, humpback bars hauled the weights from the ground and Vásquez stood tall. The giantess shook her head, frowning and muttering in Spanish. She dropped the bars, not bothering to lower back down. The curved group of women wobbled as the weight thundered to earth.

Vásquez spoke, pointing to some of the women. At first Jennifer didn't grasp what was happening. Four women peeled away from the group. It was only when they each sat on one of the stacks of weight that it clicked. It wasn't heavy enough. The massive woman was improvising.

The prison watched, inmates, gang members, guards, all amazed as Vásquez continued her set. The four Lobos grabbed onto the weight or bar, anything to help stabilise them. They started laughing, on a carnival ride.

There was more care when Vásquez lowered the bars this time. She gently set them down, making sure that no one was injured. Once everyone was safe she cracked a smirk. "Even the fucking bar couldn't handle the weight!" She hollered, cackling, gesturing to the barbells. They'd been so bent out of shape by a weight that exceeded their capacity that they were both permanently curved up to the point where Vásquez had held her grip.

She put the ball of her foot on one bar, toes curling and gripping the metal. The pressure gradually increased, her weight coming down and her leg flexing, bending the bar back into shape. Jennifer felt her brain stuttering, trying to comprehend just how strong Vásquez was at this point. Could she just bend the bars of the prison and leave?

The prospect of asking that woman why she was being quiet, as Selina had implied, felt far, far too dangerous. Jennifer thought about how the conversation would go and how it would ultimately result in her rejecting Vásquez's feelings. It would go that way, wouldn't it? It had to... Didn't it? Jennifer felt a familiar answer forming in her brain. She didn't know.

The rest of her workout felt off, thoughts plaguing her enough to keep her distracted. Frustrated, she called it a day, giving up on the lackluster workout and deciding to go shower. Vásquez caught her leaving and snapped her fingers at one of the Lobos. The silent command was obeyed, two women tailing Jennifer. This had been the new normal since the riot. Bodyguards. Just in case. The blonde gave a tight lipped smile to Vásquez, nodding in thanks. Butterflies rapidly beat their wings in her stomach. The large woman nodded back and returned to her improvised workout regime.

Emerging out of the showers, Jennifer was caught by surprise when a guard collected her for her dose. Excitement was dulled by fear as she remembered the triple syringe contraption. She still wanted her dose. Thirty seconds of discomfort and fear was worth it.

The guard led her to medbay, across the metaphorical line, between old, delapidated and new and clinical. Their path deviated to an office that Jennifer didn't know existed.

Smith was sat behind a wide, large, maple desk, in a tall, extravagant leather chair. The surface of the desk was buffed to a shine, tidy and neat, almost as if it were brand new.  Either Smith didn't work here often or he was meticulous with a cleaning routine.

"Take a seat." He said, waving a hand across the desk. Jennifer sat on a rickety, old, plastic chair, unable to get comfortable. "I'll get right down to business, Jennifer." He said, fake smile affixed. "I know you're scared of the new injectors. I was a little rude last week, but now I've taken that into consideration. You won't be getting a dose today."

"What?!" She sputtered, nose wrinkling as she shook her head. "N-no. I can do it. Honestly, I'm fine I ca-"

"Th-the matter has already been decided." He said, artifical emotions in his voice, faux sorrow in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I thought you would be happier opting out of the trial."


"No! I want to keep getting doses. I hate needles, but I can get over it. Let me get my dose!" Jennifer was frantic, suddenly an addict. She didn't want to miss a dose and let the size gap widen between her and the other test subjects. She was finally catching up. "Please, mister Smith, I can handle the needles, I'll-"

He held up a hand stopping the pleading. "I'm truly sorry, Jennifer." This time she picked up on it. The lie. Smith's act. A shiver ran through her, his act had seemed so human like. "We will get you back into the system for the next dose, but I'm afraid you've already missed out on the today's course."

Jennifer slumped in her seat. Something else was going on here. He'd called her to a random office on the other side of the prison just to tell her she wasn't getting her dose? Why go to all the effort? Why the show with the desk and the chair, like she was a peasant sat before a king? "So why am I here?"

Smith's gray, dead eyes looked alive for a moment. "Well, I had some complications in cancelling your dose. Each dose is wildly expensive! Understandably, we can't just dispose of it. That would be a waste." He leaned in, interlocking his fingers as he rested on the desk. "We have to give it to someone else in the trial." Jennifer's mouth went dry. What type of game was this? "This was all quite last minute, so unfortunately, Jessica and Selina have had their course for the day." Oh fuck. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see where this was going. "I just need your help deciding between Trish and Vásquez."

There it was.

Flames of anger licked at Jennifer. The whole world, Selina, Smith, even her own brain kept giving her this choice. She just wanted a distraction. A way to get away from the decision. "Why do you need me to help decide?" The question was bleeding contempt but the poker face didn't drop.

"Oh? I thought you'd want some say in where your extra inches would be going." He knew the position this put her in. This was just him being a dick, fucking with her because of last week.

Jennifer stood from her chair. "I'm not doing this. Give it to whoever." She wouldn't play the game, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of squrming. Rustling behind her told the blonde that the guard was moving towards her. Bracing for impact, she waited, but nothing came.

Smith had shot a glare over her shoulder, halting the man. He smiled back up to Jennifer. "Not a problem! I'm sorry for this big misunderstanding. I'll organise things so that you get your dose on Friday. Pembroke, take our esteemed subject back to general population."

Jennifer was flabbergasted, looking from Smith to the guard and then back. He was letting her go? That disgusting smile... She stared, letting her eyes hang on it, grasping for any understanding she could glean. His wrinkled face and sickly sweet, tight lipped smile gave nothing away. This may as well have been in a staring contest with a manequinn. Striding out of the room with a head full of steam, she brushed passed the guard, eager to get back to cell block B.



Red numbers flashed, showing Trish her new weight. The nation member had been crushing a 5 vs 1 basketball match when she'd been pulled out for her dose. Her default loss had been annoying but she'd been eager to get more G37. The chemical had been a whirlwind. After the first growth spurt she'd been excited, elated. What it had done was impossible. Stronger, taller, sexier. It was hard to deny how great it was. Then things became complicated. People acted different, attention was drawn to her and she felt like less of a person. Her sisterhood fell apart around her. Hatred replaced excitment, the changes corrupted.

The fight in the canteen flipped everything on it's head. Being smothered by Vásquez, even in a two on one situation was a wake up call. It didn't matter what people thought or how they acted. If she was going to fight the latina she needed to be bigger. What really amazed her was how her body reacted to the new drive. She started growing faster.

Sure she was stricter with the prescribed regime - sticking to protein and calorie intake and even exceeding it, working out harder, more often - but the way her body responded was astounding. She'd been neck and neck with Jessica last week, both 6'11 after the last dose, but since then she'd taken the lead, inching up to 7'2 even before her dose. Her legs had ballooned with power, becoming even more pronounced than they had been and her upper body was doing it's best to catch up. It was as if she were willing herself bigger.

Then she'd arrived here and was told she'd be getting a double dose. Zero indication of why, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The double dose magnified everything, forcing her body thicker and even more towering. Seven fucking foot and seven inches. The six inch gain had been her largest yet and the abrupt change left her shell-shocked. Everything looked tiny.

The appeal of size was coming back to her and now, looking at the crimson numbers, her lips stretched into a smile. She was closer to that bitch. One step closer to being able to kick her ass. Another thankful transformation was the boost to her boobage. Trish had been frustrated with her flat chestedness even after taking G37. It was an especially sore point when Jessica called her mosquito bites.

She'd inched into what was at least a D-cup now. Not much on her much larger frame, but enough. They weren't as breathtaking as her companions monster tits, but what could be? Then again, ol' monster tits could suffocate herself in her sleep if she wasn't careful, Trish mused.

The towering woman continued boring holes into the red digital readout. One step closer. One step at a time.



The last person called to medbay was the prodigal daughter herself. Vásquez. Right before dinner when the sun dyed the sky lilac and the temperature dipped, Smith sent for her. He leaned against an observation bed in medbay, waiting for the giantess, foot tapping.

He hadn't been able to deny her dose. Orders came from upstream, just as he'd predicted. They demanded more G37 be pumped into their star subject, even without the restraints to secure her. He was appalled by their blind quest to get results. Revenge wouldn't slip through his fingers so easily. The scheming began. Nothing he'd tried had worked thus far. Not guards roughing her up, nor threats to remove her from the programme, not isolation, nor even attempted murder. Mental warfare, physical warfare.... Nothing. His trump card, the triple dose, had blown up in his face fantastically. He needed to harness some devious creativity. Inspiration came when watching the beast working out in her outdoor cage. It was so obvious, looking him in the face for the past few weeks. A plan formed. One that he put into motion the moment the double doors opened and Vásquez squeezed her behemoth girth through.

"Good evening, Vásquez."

"Evening, tiny." She responded, smirking far, far down at the man from the ceiling. They'd extrapolated her height to sit at 9'6 by now. The algorithm needed calibrating again from the looks of things. Smith beeped his card on the reader and held a hand up to allow her through. "You better remember to up my calories this time." She grunted, passing him.

His eye twitched. Vásquez had learned that giving the man orders was the fastest way to enrage him. He refused to take the bait this time. In fact, it would slot nicely into his plan. "You can eat here in our canteen after the procedure."

"Tell 'em to start cooking." She laughed.

Smith's hands balled into fists at his side. He dove headlong into his scheme, ignoring her quip. "I've been told we've had some clothes dropped in for you. Tailored to your size after this next dose."

"Good." She responded sternly, a queen talking to her servant.

Smith blinked a few times and exhaled, remaining cool. "Well, they actually might be baggy. We'd planned to give you the dose Jennifer forfeited."

Vásquez stopped. Smith had to follow suit, knowing the guards wouldn't be able to force her forwards without chaos breaking out. "She did what?" The giant seethed.

Her response was perfect, cementing the weakness Smith had identified. "We assumed she wouldn't want it due to her reaction last week. Her fear of injections meant the new style of administering G37 complicated things. I had a meeting with her today and she was adamant that she could handle it. It was too late for us to slip her back into the system, of course. Paperwork." He shrugged. Nailing delivery was key to this next bit. "She did have an odd request though. She asked we give her dose to Trish and not you." The lie was masterfully laid out, yet Smith still felt his insides churning. Vásquez had a supernatural way of reading people. It was uncanny.

Not this time though. Shock distracted her, keeping her from studying him more closely. He saw it on her face. That expression. The confusion. The hurt. He bit back a smile so hard that a metallic taste filled his mouth. He checked his watch, making grand gesture of it. "Ah, I have a meeting I simply must attend to. I'll leave you with the guards to get your course for today." Ordinarily, being ignored would frustrate Smith, but right now the silence was blissful. Cogs continued slowly grinding in the huge oaf's head, trying to make sense of the information given to her. Turning, he walked away, shoes clicking all the way down the hall, a wide, wide smile on his face.

He practically skipped to his office once out of her eyeline. Plopping into the cushions, red leather creaking, sinking into comfort, stewing in his victory, he opened the top drawer of his desk. Extracting a tumbler, he poured a generous amount of an amber liquid into the crystal glass. This. This he deserved.

Hours passed. Dinner came and went. Everyone noticed the distinct lack in the canteen. No Vásquez. It left a void in the room. A void that a much, much larger Trish partly filled. All eyes were in her. Oddly, Trish found herself enjoying the attention. 'So she got the second dose,' Jennifer thought to herself.

The evening slipped away, Vásquez still not returning. Soon lock down was reinstated, Jennifer nibbled her lip, laid on her bunk facing the bars. Where was she? She'd periodically peer upwards, watching the clouds darken. Lights were cut, plunging the prison into darkness and still she waited. Flashes filled the sky, making Jennifer gasp, drawing her eyes skyward. Pitter pattering rain echoed through the halls, bouncing off of the concrete and wetting the dusty, dry soil outside. Relief flooded the prison, temperature finally falling.

Jennifer felt her worries ebbing away, silly thoughts from the morning coming back to the front of her mind. Hope filled her. Maybe this was the start of a new chapter in cell block B. An end to the cold War. A sign. Vásquez would be back soon enough, worrying about the invincible woman was pointless.

The 6'5 woman shuffled across the thin mattress, cramped in the narrow frame. She gripped that piece of hope tight, falling asleep thinking about it, praying for it, even dreaming of it.

Dawn rolled around, but black clouds meant the sunrise was dark. Metal against metal quietly grated as the bars slid open. A group of women slunk into the cell, a mass of silhouettes. A knife against her throat, a palm over her mouth, Jennifer awoke. Groggy, in the black she couldn't tell what was happening. Rachel's muffled grunts prickled her ears and she tried to sit up, tried to fight against the hands pushing her down. More hands joined them, restraining her. Someone got close to her face.

Cigarette smoke was the only scent she could pick up. A finger pressed to the lips of the shape in front of her. "Shhhhhh." The sound eased into a giggle. "Stay real fucking quiet, bitch." It was barely audible over the rain, over the thunder. Jennifer would know that voice anywhere. It sent chills cutting through her. A flash of lightning cracked the gray canvas of sky and Amber's smiling face was illuminated. The thunder masked the muffled screams.