"No, this isn't right. He should have checked in hours ago."

"Maybe he's just late."

"By three hours?"

"Maybe he had an aneurism."

"I... Yeah, maybe. Still, I have a bad feeling about this."

The other man rolled his eyes and walked around the desk he'd been perched on. "Fine." He picked a red phone up off of it's receiver and cradled it between his shoulder and ear. "Two - Seven - One - Three - Nine." He waited. "Uh-huh.... Yes, patch me through to Episilon."

The other man's eyebrows rose. "Oh wow, banking a lot on my gut."

With one shoulder he shrugged back. "Fuck it. This is too important to not be sure." His attention went back to the phone. "Yes, it's me. We've not had a check in from our friend. I want eyes on that place before 1900."


White text on a black background reflected in Cassandra's bulging eyes. "Oh fuck." She whispered. The mouse wheel scrolled audibly and she punched a few keys, changing values in the model.

Clicking run again she waited pensively. A little bar filled and the new numbers flashed up. This couldn't be right. Leaning back in her chair, she could only say it again. "Oh fuuuuuck."


The rain was letting up now, easing into a slower downpour, the burning sun piercing the black clouds and shining on the decimated prison. Foot prints in the mud that hadn't been entirely washed away, too large and too deep, began to solidify. A trail for a jaguar to hunt.

Amber had been careful prying the roof off of the lab. Making sure to rip free enough so that she could watch the scientists work without the rain hindering any of their work had been a delicate process. She was sat on the broken rooftop of the corridor that she'd smashed to get here, legs dangling into the lab that had birthed her new form, bearing down on the workers. Smith was her foreman, barking orders and making sure the next batch of G37 was made as efficiently and quickly as possible. Amber found that she was beginning to like having a slave. Someone to impart her will without her even raising a finger. She wriggled her toes, smirking down at her little sweat factory.

Her smirk dropped when one of the scientists slipped, the flask he'd been holding squeaking against his glove before it shattered against the ground. Like a server dropping a plate in a restaurant, everyone went silent. First they looked to him. Then they looked up, to her. Amber's expression wasn't explicitly unhappy but the sheer weight of her gaze had the man sweating.

"I'm s-so sorry!" He cried. Her legs kicked playfully, toes close to the ground even while sat 12 foot up. Pale blue eyes moved to Smith. She pointed to the scientist and then curled her finger, beckoning Smith to bring him over.

Smith had been keeping his composure together as much as possible, hoping he wasn't sweating clean through his suit. He ran his dry tongue over drier lips. "Hey!" He shouted, storming over to the man. He gripped a handful of his shirt and pulled him in to hiss, "go over there and fucking grovel." That left the scientist bewildered but when Smith flung him into Amber's direction, his journey was already well under way.

He slowed after the initial stumble, a more tentative paced walk carrying him to stand before her massive form. The scientist kept his eyes low, looking at her feet rather than making eye contact. Feeling like he's walked into the lion's den, he began to talk.

"Please, I'm really, really sorry. I-I didn't mean to drop the flask. I'll make another batch even faster!" He chose to look up then to gauge her response and saw the indifference in her eyes. For some reason that was worse than anger. That cold, uncaring, bored stare frightened him. "I'll do anything! Whatever you want, just please don't hurt me!" He begged, desperation becoming too much. Having this tiny thing beg to her sent a thrill through Amber and a smile tugged at her lips, boredom evaporating. She wanted to see how far he'd debase himself before she decided if he'd earned his worthless life.

"Get on your knees." He did it without a second thought. Her mud covered foot hovered closer to him, big toe flexing up so that it's bottom faced him. A shiver ran through the scientist as he was reminded again just how large she was. The crusted mud on the bottom of her feet had dried for the most part and he could see the ridges of her toes where it had flaked off. Each ridge looked to be an inch thick... Being abducted by her had been traumatic in itself, but on his knees in front of her, foot ready to end him. It was a horrifying.

"Kiss it." This time he hesitated for a half second but, quickly leaned in to peck the head sized toe. He rocked back, resisting the urge to wipe dried mud from his lips.

"Was that it?" Amber asked with fake shock. She wanted to see him squirm. "A tiny, lil' peck?" Her toes wriggled in what would have been a playful way in any other situation. "Aw, look she's upset now! She doesn't think you really meant that kiss and, to be honest," her voice grew dark, "I don't think you did either." The scientist looked from the toes, up to Amber, panic rising. She scrunched and flexed them more violently, mud cracking and falling off. The action made them seem brimming with anger, expanding out of their shell. "She's pretty mean when she's angry." For some reason that one line was ominous enough to start the scientist nervously twitching faster than before. "You better make it up to heeeeeer." He didn't need any further persuasion, rocketing forward on his knees to hug the foot, passionately kissing the big toe. Amber hummed in approval, tingles running up her leg and spine.

"Good boy." She cooed. "Lick too. I want her spotless by the time you're done." He complied, stomach turning with his first lick along the crusted bottom of her toe. Dirt and mud assaulted his pallet but he licked and swallowed and fought to stay alive.

Amber pushed the man down under her sole, massaging his body with the ball of her foot as he pathetically followed her orders. She tweaked her nipple and let out a little gasp of pleasure, kneading the entire massive tit. God, this was making her horny. She hadn't had anyone this pliable in the inmates. Anyone this easy to mould into -

A thumping caught her ear, momentarily distracting Amber from her fun. She tried to ignore it but couldn't. It sounded like... It was getting closer. It was.

Amber hopped up, full weight coming down on the pathetic insect underfoot. He'd turned to jam beneath her weight. The aryan didn't even notice, swivelling around to see Vásquez. Vásquez?! She was almost a blur, tearing through left over ruins of corridors and walls, ripping up the soil and mud and concrete with every step.

A feeling gripped Amber that she hadn't had in a long time. A cold stone in the pit of her stomach. She tried to block the first punch, arms coming up in slow motion, unable to stop the overhand right. Her jaw completely unhinged, dislocating from the force of the hook that rattled her brain and sent her careening through the side of the lab, into an adjacent room. The world wouldn't stop tilting to and fro.


Coughing, Smith waved away clouds of dust. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened. One second he was smiling at Amber playing with the scientist, the next the scientist was gone and Amber had flown through the air. He caught a glimpse of something that instantly made his heart seize. Copper skin. Black hair. That fucking tattoo. Vásquez. Fucking Vásquez?! How the fuck was she this big? He felt a flutter run through him, once again having control escape him because of this giant latina. Jones. Jones must have had a part to play in this. There was no other way. "Keep working!" He screamed to the scientists.  Vásquez wasn't as big as Amber, but something was eating away at Smith. They needed more G37. Now. He was not letting Vásquez ruin everything again.

Heading to the closest scientists, he slammed her against one of the machines. "Double the speed. Make as much as you can as fast as you can. Understand?"

The wide eyed woman nodded, weeks of working with Smith meant she knew she shouldn't disobey. "Good. Because mark my words, if Vásquez wins this, we all die." He released her, hurrying away.

"W-wait, where are you going?" She asked after him.

"I need to talk to someone."


Vásquez didn't hesitate, diving after the prone giantess, sprawling onto the larger woman. Decimating more walls, she threw a flurry of punches at any patch of the aryan she could. Amber tortoise shelled up, absorbing the punches with shoulders, biceps and forearms, struggling to right her equilibrium.

The scientists stayed true to Smith's orders, working as well as they could while the two giants destroyed their surroundings, shaking the floor with each exchange. They'd take glances at the insanity unfolding yards away, trying to keep steady, mixing chemicals. Vásquez straddled Amber, muscled, wide caramel hips laid atop alabaster ones. God, she was so heavy. Heavier than she should be. Denser? Amber couldn't stop her mind running wild with questions.

Her veins throbbed purple and slowly her groggy state abated. She clenched her jaw, G37 helping to snap it back into place, fixing her rocked brain. The panic faded. She was still bigger than this bitch. Stronger. Through her guard, Amber shot the furious latina a grin and blew a kiss. Like a cobra striking, she gripped one of Vásquez's wrists. Her strength meant she could still, easily, buck her hips, sending Vásquez off balance. Still blinded by anger, Vásquez launched into another, ill timed attack. Blocking a hook, Amber grunted, pulling her opponent's other arm down, rolling and cleaving clean through into another room. She pinned the latina to the ground under her and leered down. "Not so easy when I'm still bigger, right?"

"Fuck you." Vásquez spat, pulling her head back and headbutting the woman with full force. Amber rocked back and Vásquez gripped a handful of almost bleached blonde hair. She yanked to the side, using a wall as a weapon and sending their battle further away from the lab. Vásquez scrambled on her knees towards Amber and attempted to get on top of her. This time Amber's feet stopped her, pressing into her chest and shoulders. Amber's thighs bulged and for a moment Vásquez was close enough to grab at Amber. The aryan kicked out and Vásquez went flying. Up, off of her knees, off of her feet and flung away.

The 25 foot tall woman went through a corridor and into the mud. Amber stood imposingly, quick to her feet, but didn't go for the attack. Her nose was almost flat, blood, crimson red against her snow skin, poured down her lips and dripped from her chin. A large cut along her temple wept too and even now, her jaw crunched, finally healing. Vásquez paused, only now seeing the ridiculous rate that Amber healed. Her nose reconstructed itself and her temple stitched itself closed. Amber licked her lips, the metallic taste sensing tingles through her twisted mind. She laughed, cobble stones flexing, tilting back her head and really belly laughing. "Oh, oh shit. You should see your face, you dumb fuck. Are you seriously only getting it now? You can't do shit to me." A familiar sensation ran through her. Tightening skin, burning bones. Power. "But guess what?" She planted her hands on her hips, standing massively tall. "The best," her veins glowed again, "is yet to come!"

That tell tale hyena cackle went through Amber's own brand of changes, running up and down the pitch spectrum as she began to swell. "MhhhmmmHMmmMmmm, fuck, I love this feeling." Amber groaned, letting her head roll and her eyes flutter. Her weight was getting to the point where she didn't even have to stomp to crack concrete. Mass alone was enough to do it, which is why right now tiles and cement began to split and break beneath her. Her shoulders widened even more, muscles twitching in delight as she crawled into the 32 and then 33 foot range.

Vásquez got to her feet and even from this distance, knew she'd be tiny next to Amber. She couldn't just let pure rage propel her. The growth subsided and Amber returned her gaze to her foe. "I don't know how you did it, but you came back from the dead, ya grew huge, you came charging over here and you still can't fucking beat me, can you?" She was rubbing salt into the wound. "Look at you. All big and bad and only up to my huge, round, juicy tits." Amber grabbed handfuls of her rack violently, jiggling and mashing them together. Her fire hydrant nipples rigidly begged for attention and soon a moistness began to form along her inner thighs. "Itty, bitty Vásquez." She giggled, playing with the cherry toned diamonds on her chest. "So... F-f-fucking.... Useless." Her hips danced, sharply, involuntarily and an orgasm washed over the insatiable monster. Vásquez was doing her best to keep her thinly caged anger in check. She pushed it down, deep and the red curtain opened a little. The power to construct a full sentence returned.

"Nah, it's you that doesn't get it." Vásquez said. "Doesn't matter how big you get. Even if you were a mile fucking tall, I'd climb into your ear and rip and tear until you were dead." Vásquez meant every word. She'd do anything she had to murder this bitch.

That just elicited a chuckle from Amber. "Really? Alright then." She reached down and grabbed a particularly jagged chunk of concrete. Vásquez knew what was coming. She ran to stop Amber. But it was too late. The aryan thrust the sharp point into her own chest, blood sputtering out, she dragged it along her upper body in a diagonal line. Vásquez tried to get the shard of roof from the giant, trying to wrestle control and force it into her heart. The two of them went into a war of strength and, Amber was shocked to see, Vásquez was holding her own. Gradually she pushed the tip of the bloodied, grey spear towards the already slashed chest. How was she this strong even with the size difference? Either way, it wouldn't last long though.

Amber leaned forwards, arching Vásquez back and using her weight as much as possible, utilising her size advantage to make it more difficult to move the weapon. The latina was almost at a 45 degree angle, trembling but holding steady. Amber wanted to question how but kept it out of her head. She was winning this. In this position Amber's wound dripped, hot, thick blood onto Vásquez, coating her chest and abs. But the waterfall of scarlet slowed, healing flesh closing like a dam to stem the flow.

The weight started to increase and the triangle of concrete inched further and further away from Amber's cleavage. Vásquez's biceps were burning, her chest and back and her entire body desperately trying to push back the tide. Amber throbbed bigger and bigger over her, smug smirk looming larger and larger. 33 foot. 34 foot. 35 foot. Vásquez snapped her hips to one side and let Amber's weight carry them to the ground again. She'd pivoted in such a way that their positions reversed, Vásquez on top of the growing hill. Bearing down on their connected arms and thrusting with all her might she tried to drive the point into that rotten heart. Amber continued to stop her, growing down and out into the rubble.

Seriously, what the fuck was she made out of? Vásquez felt like a block of lead coming down on Amber. Enough. Instead of trying to push her off she closed her fists, sharp edge of the concrete crumbling in her grasp. Amber kicked the latina off. She anticipated the unrelenting barrage of offense and this time, on one knee, she stopped Vásquez, catching her fist. With the aryan at 37 foot tall, and still growing Vásquez couldn't stop her. She couldn't stop perfection. Amber caught the second fist in her gargantuan hand, fingers swallowing more forearm with each second. Even on one knee, Amber was taller. She puffed herself up with confidence and pushed up to stand. 38 foot tall. Vásquez was under the shelf of her tits, looking up at the aryan from between them in a deliciously pathetic way. The aryan radiated an arrogance, doubts and caution being thrown to the wind. What had she been worried about? This tiny, inferior, little cunt?

Amber pushed down on Vásquez, intentionally smothering her face in a breast that was far bigger than her head. She tried to force a nipple into her mouth to add further insult with the act. When she couldn't a little frustrated grunt came out and Amber swung her chest, slapping the tit into the Vásquez. "OhhhHhooo. That felt good." Murmured Amber. She pushed more weight down, bending the support beam of a woman. She was un-fucking-stoppable. "Oopps!" Amber cartoonishly giggled, tipping onto her toes and falling forwards. Both women went crashing into the observation room. The black electric chair was there. They crushed it flat.

It was Amber's turn on top again and it was glorious. 39 feet tall, easily pressing Vásquez's twig arms flat against the floor with her hands. She slammed a tit to her face again, resting the wrecking ball on her, stopping her breathing. The impact pushed Vásquez's head to the floor, breast oozing around her face and scalp to make a seal. The latina sucked in as much mammary as she could and bit down hard enough to draw blood.

Amber pulled away with a gasp, a bloody circle on her underboob. She leaned forwards trying to see the barbaric attack. Her shock turned into a jubilant, horniness as the little marks began to heal. "Fuck me, Vásquez! How big do you *want* me?" The premonition came inevitably true, breast healing and growth beginning. Fingers, interlocked with Vásquez's, began to thicken, pushing fingers apart sliding down the back of the smaller hand, making deeper lines in the earth. Vásquez felt like she was dwindling between the monster's legs, increasing moisture building. Amber ground her hips into caramel abs, smearing her oily sex all over the smaller woman.

"How about you try it again and I bite your fucking nipple off." Snarled Vásquez.

A melodic giggle came in response. "You know, if you really wanna eat me so bad -" She shuffled forwards, bringing her knees over Vásquez's arms, crotch creating a trail of slime over her stomach and chest, massive, overgrown ass squishing the teeny tiny tits. That puckered, pink, purple, red slit twitched and belched forth more grool, right onto Vásquez's chin. "You could have just asked." The mountain of a woman grabbed a handful of hair, thrust her pussy forwards and jammed Vásquez into her crotch.

Like a rabid bull, Vásquez went berserk, thrashing under Amber. The aryan, even with the scale disparity, had to work to stay on. Eventually she lifted her ass and crashed down, pussy enveloping Vásquez's entire face, submerging her in Amber's sensitive, leaking folds. The ayran rocked back and forth, grinding and groaning and laughing. This was a game to her. Just like everyone else, Vásquez wasn't a threat. She was a toy. A toy that, relatively, was shrinking smaller and smaller.


Jennifer sprinted through the corridors of the secret wing. She felt like all she'd been doing for the passed hour was run back and forth. Where the fuck was Trish? How could she have gotten so far away while limping?!

The whole prison had lost power a while ago, the colossal fight being fought having done too much damage to everything and finally short circuiting the prison. Jennifer had struggled to keep her pace as the kaiju level bout rocked the world. Catching glimpses of the fight through destroyed sections of the formerly sterile corridors she'd tune in for a few seconds at a time. She couldn't stand and watch though. Even if Trish hated her, she had to keep her safe. Although she had no idea how exactly she was going to do that. She stopped, standing at a metaphorical fork in the road and ran her hands through her hair. Holding her blonde locks back, she breathed heavy, debating where to go. Where would Trish go? Where would she be trying to get to?

Wait, Cassandra was still here too wasn't she? Maybe she could hack into more cameras and find her? Earlier she'd made easy work of the prison cameras, she must have the skills to crack the others even if at the time she didn't try... Right?

It was a bad plan but it was better than no plan at all. Jennifer tapped into the mental floor plan. This way. She took off running again.


Trish, meanwhile, had been sitting in the room she'd taken refuge in. She'd actually seen Vásquez on her initial charge, early on. A surprising relief swelled in her when she saw the humungous woman going to fight Amber. That is, right up until the realisation that a few hours ago they'd been beating the snot out of each other as well. The lesser of two evils was still a massive, angry, evil woman who didn't like her. She'd resigned herself to staying in the room to wait for whatever authorities would come. Sat on a filing cabinet, she'd decided that was safest. It had given G37 and her body some time to partially heal her injuries, and it meant that she could have time to reflect and think about all the events that led to this insane crescendo. Looking back at it now she could see the hints that there was more going on between Jennifer and Vásquez.

What the fuck did she see in that murderer? What redeeming qualities could have actually have?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud clopping of shoes in the destroyed corridor. Whoever this was, they weren't wearing boots or plimsolls. These were dress shoes. Quietly, Trish stalked to the ripped open wall and peered out of the shadows. Her injured leg hadn't fully healed, but she was sure she could tail the asshole that had started this all.

Trish let him pass and then moved out into the corridor, nothing but a non-existent ghost in the distance to Smith.


After her discovery, Cassandra went into damage control. She had to wipe G38 from the records. How it was made, chemical make up, how it had interacted with Vásquez's cells.... She was deleting all of it. Destroying it. G37 was bad enough, G38 being used could be truly disastrous. Files, calculations, even the kit she'd used. Deleted, erased, sterilised.

Yet, even in her frantic whirlwind of activity that heavy, metal ch-chunk of the door being opened made her skin transform into goosebumps. A thousand thoughts raced through her head as she span to the door. The best case scenario was that Jennifer had secretly memorised the door code. The worst case was that her employers were already here.

The truth was somewhere in the middle.

"Hello, Jones." Smith said, standing in the doorway. He had a look in his eye that boarded on insanity. Cassandra stepped between him and her computer, hoping he didn't see the progress bar for the deletion.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, an equal mix of anger and fear tinting her question. Smith didn't answer