Greg awoke in the shade of the poolside bar where he had ultimately landed the night before. He had gone there in search of food, and had found itnothing much, just a discarded pistachio and the debris from a lemon that had once graced a martinibut it was far and away enough for him.
He stretched, and realized hed slept in a bit longer than hed expected. He wasnt worried, so much as annoyed; hed wasted precious hours resting when he should have been trying to get closer to his destination.
After a moment of concern, he stopped himself. Getting to the Bellagio was going to be a crap shoot anyhow; the truth was that the next person he hitched a ride with might take him thereor he might go non-stop through the last day and not succeed.
He wandered out from underneath the bin of fresh towels, where he had camped overnight, and took in the view. A few people were filtering into the pool area; a couple of families were some distance off, while two young women sunned themselves nearby. He surveilled the area, trying to decide if any of these people might be worth riding along with, when a shadow appeared.
He was used to looking across shadows to enormous people, and this shadow was predictably tied to one. She was an immense coed with long, tan legs coming together at a barely-there pink bikini bottom. Far above that, Greg could see her breastslarge, but not cartoonishand a pretty face capped by tousled brown hair.
She was fun to look at, he thought, but
.
The but was as far as he got with the thought as the girl reached for a towel above, and clumsily let it slip through her fingers.
An enormous white cloth dropped at Greg. He put up his arms to block it, but it didnt impact him. Instead, it created a tent all around him. Whew, he said, that was
.
Then, suddenly, the tent collapsed as the woman gathered it up, and carried it over to her lounge chair.
She turned it over and threw it on with a single motion, tossing Greg high up into the air. He flew in a graceful arc, and landed, skidding, on a damp, slick plain.
He stood up, and immediately wished he hadnt. He was looking up the back of one of the women he had seen earlier. Some distance away was the bow tying her bikini together. He turned around, and saw the gentle crest of the hill that was her ass.
He swallowed, hard. Hed have to get down from here. Lets see
.
There was no time for reflection, however. The girl suddenly reached back with her hand and began idly scratching her lower back, right where Greg was. He retreated quickly, and soon realized that hed have to take cover. But there was only one place to go.
So he lifted up the edge of her green bikini bottoms and pulled himself inside.
This was going to be a long day.
* * *
Las Vegas is no place for a nineteen-year-old.
If you're twenty-one, it's great. You can drink and gamble and get into any club you want. But if you're nineteen, you're constantly stuck on the outside looking in. And so you spend a lot of time by the pool and shopping, and waiting for your sister and her fiancé to come back from wherever they are so that you can go eat, because that's all the fun you're going to have.
Bridget Carroll was tired of waiting around. She'd much rather be home with her boyfriend Mike. They'd be having a lot of fun right now. At least her sister would get married tonight and they could get home soon.
And what was worst, now her but was getting itchy. She was going to have to go in if it didn't get better; you can't really itch your butt in public and get away with it, even if you are a girl with a nice one.
* * *
Greg slid through the valley between the girl's cheeks, grateful that at the very least, she wasn't gassy.
He had seen a number of different parts of women over the past week, but he figured he could've lived without an up-close tour of the anus. Nevertheless, he gently worked his way across the puckered hole, trying not to slip insidehe most certainly did not want to see this woman's rectum.
From here, he could see the cliff that led down to her labia. He was tempted to slip down between them, but he thought he could control himself
.
Suddenly, the world pitched, as the girl rolled over and got to her feet. Greg was thrown into the crotch of the bikini bottoms, staring up at a massive slit.
It would've been awe-inspiring, but frankly, he was getting used to it.
* * *
Bridget wandered up to her room, determined to do something with her day other than improve her tan. It was about eleven, so she figured she'd have a good six hours to meander before she had to be back for the wedding. Pulling her suit off and dropping it to the floor, she quickly dressed in a short summer dress and open-toed sandals. She figured she'd have some time to change shoes later, but for now, she just wanted to head up to the Venetian. She'd heard there were some good shops up there.
* * *
Greg had been surprised when he was thrown into the bikini bottoms, and more surprised when the bottoms themselves dropped. At the very least, he was getting used to thinking on the fly; he grabbed the top of the woman's right foot as she slid the green fabric off. Far above him, the girl slid on an enormous dress and slid panties by him (which he successfully persuaded himself not to leap into). By the time the girl slid her feet into the sandals, he was almost relieved. Sandals meant she was going somewhere, and he would have the chance to go with her.
Each footfall was earthquake-like, of coursehe was so used to it by now that it barely registered. Instead, he watched out the front of the shoes, trying to figure out where he was. For a while, they wandered the sidewalks, then a cab, then some stores, then another cab, and then, he saw it.
Emblazoned on a door high above him, the logo of the Venetian.
One billion dollars were as good as his.
He didn't even worry as the suit announced its intention to alter his size. Soon enough, he'd buy one he could control.
As he made his way through the casino floornow up to four inches in height, big enough to be spotted if someone were looking for himhe had to force himself to be careful. He wanted to make a beeline for the elevators. He was so close. So close
.
The force of the blow knocked him backwards, leaving him heaving for breath. He struggled up, trying to figure out what had happened, when the foot came back over him, and roughly pinned him to the ground.
He'd been kicked by the owner of the foot. Kicked hard. But why?
Suddenly, the foot was released, and a hand grabbed him roughly and lifted him to a lovely face with a wicked countenance, framed with golden hair.
"HELLO, GREG," said the woman. "MY NAME IS TORI. LET'S PLAY."
* * *
"son of a bitch!" he cried in pain, as she let him up from under her ass.
"NO
I BELIEVE YOU WERE GOING TO TELL ME YOU WOULD OBEY YOUR MISTRESS."
"fuck you!" he yelled at the demoness, unwilling to give her the satisfaction she'd been demanding for the past four hours.
Why he hadn't hit his recall button was beyond him; the woman clearly was trying to kill him. But he wasn't afraid of losing anymore. He was afraid of giving up.
And so he spit back at her as she laughed. "OH, BREAKING YOU IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN, BUG. BUT FOR NOW, I THINK IT'S BEST YOU COME WITH ME
.HEH."
With that, she poured a thick, viscous liquid over Greg, which he instantly recognizedAstroglide.
"TRUST ME, YOU LITTLE MEN FEEL BETTER WHERE YOU'RE GOING. AT LEAST, I FEEL BETTER WHEN YOU GO THERE."
Tori grabbed Greg and pulled her panties down just enough to expose her anus. "oh, hell no," said Greg, as he was shoved head-first into Tori's lovely ass.
* * *
Tori was never good at explaining why it felt so good from behind her. Maybe it was the way she'd killed the first bastardcrushing him while she danced.
She danced, flirting her way across the dance floorher latest conquest breathing the stale methane of her colon.
He struggled back there, stimulating her clitoral wings, bringing her to the brink of orgasm. Perfect. She knew he was just trying to escape, just afraid of choking to death on her farts.
It didn't matter to her. He was just a thing, like the first one had been. She would use him for her pleasure, and then she'd discard him. She doubted Sir George would care.
No, as she spent her night dancing her way to ecstasy, Tori knew she'd have fun torturing this one to death. She'd have to end the dance soon, though. She didn't want this one to be dead before she had a chance to really work him over.
She was fucked up, yes. But she didn't care. She was a goddessthe queen of the fucking world.
And she was in charge now. She didn't have to listen. She didn't have to submit.
It felt delicious.
* * *
Greg, for his part, was hanging on, trying not to lose his lunch as he was held tightly in the rectum of a beautiful woman, who was evidently intent on partying the night away.
He wasn't going to give up, he'd decided. He wasn't going to push the button, even if she killed him. This had been the best time he'd had in his life, the only time he'd ever felt truly alive. What did he have to look forward to if he gave up now? Oh, he'd give Sir George his million, and then he'd head back to the trust fund, and eventually the board position, and maybe even the chairmanship of the hotel chain. And for what? So he could fuck another willing model? That was fine and all, but it wasn't a challenge.
He was starting to realize that he needed the challenge. He needed to make this work, or die trying.
And even if death was the end result, he wasn't afraid. A good gambler knows the risk he's taking.
Greg wasn't afraid.
Even as the gas gurgled down to his position, he kept his head high. This bitch wouldn't beat him. He'd get past her.
He just had to figure out how.
* * *
When they finally returned to Tori's room and she extricated her anal prisoner, she was alternately happy and disappointed to see him relatively unharmed. "WELL
." she said. "YOU'VE MANAGED TO HANG IN THERE PRETTY WELL, LITTLE BUG. ARE YOU READY TO PROCLAIM ME YOUR MISTRESS YET?"
"sod off, you bitch. you know, you might want to clean up there once in a"
Greg didn't get the chance to finish the insult, as Tori backhanded him across the bed. "OH, YOU'RE A FEISTY ONE, AREN'T YOU? SO MUCH MORE FUN THAN THE FIRST ONE."
"the first one?" he asked, stumbling to his feet.
"THE FIRST LITTLE MAN I KILLED. CRUSHED HIM TO DEATH UNDER MY ASS. HE GAVE UP IMMEDIATELY. CALLED ME 'MISTRESS' THE SECOND I ASKED HIM TO. NOT MUCH FUN," she said, mock-pouting.
"BUT YOUYOU'RE BOUND AND DETERMINED TO MAKE ME BREAK YOU, AREN'T YOU? WELL, GREG
PREPARE TO BE BROKEN."
And as Tori approached, Greg began to appreciate that this crazy bitch wasn't kidding.
She meant to have a lot of fun tonight.
And then, she would break him irretrievably.
As the lights went out, Greg screamed.
Giantess World
