And just like that, Trish was gone from Thomas's life. She was certainly not forgotten. Whenever he closed his eyes he could see her, especially her smiles, laughs, playful shoves, the warmth of being in her arms, the back massages. It was worse now than her arrest. At least then he could hope and look forward to returning to her arms. Now there was no such hope.

His memory of her body's warmth cooled as the weeks passed, until it felt like maybe what had happened between him and Trish had happened to some other guy that no longer existed.

He tried various ways to hang on to her.. The closest he could feel to her now was when he watched the news about her impending legal struggles. Somehow, someone had gotten footage of her leaving the gym that night. They got everything on camera, from her emergence to her confrontation with Thomas. They placed the shots of her pressing her foot into him on a loop, as well as the shot of her accidentally demolishing the tractor trailer. It made her look terrifying. 

The news was playing her up as a monster, a narrative easy to spin given her unkempt hair, dark and hungry eyes, and outburst at Thomas. Thomas knew that this was the government’s fault, but he felt guilty all the same. If only he had come clean with Trish earlier, and had been able to talk to her about it, he might have prevented this mess.

Interest in the story petered out as new information about Trish dried up. For Thomas it was like losing her a second time, and it wasn’t long before his heart break and isolation had compounded into a strange feeling that what came before had been a dream, somehow not real. But it was real, because later that week Margaret came by to make sure that Thomas would still testify in Trish’s favor, taking the blame for punching Dr. Vale. Of course he would, he agreed. He would do anything for Trish. He asked her how she was before she left, but she wouldn’t say, and his memory of Trish started to become a dream once more.

Thomas ended up spending a lot of time on the fetish forum that got him in this mess in the first place. At least they were talking about her. They loved the shot of her pushing him around. They all wished they could be him, bossed around by Queen Patricia like that. They thought he was so lucky. Thomas didn’t feel lucky at all.

The forum was the closest he could get to still being involved with Trish. The group talked constantly about her. Some people claimed they were working around Jeb’s compound and had accounts and images of her. Thomas could tell all the images were faked, but the same bullshit detector had a hard time sorting out truth from fact about the stories being told. All of them were surely fake, but Thomas felt the need to read them all just in case it was actually news about his lost love.

One claimed that she’d started to grow faster, actually. She’s like a goldfish, you see, filling the container that she lives in. Now that she was in the wide open prairie, she had grown to over eighty feet tall very rapidly. No one is talking about it, because her hunger is so bad that she just picks livestock right from the field and eats them whole.

Another claimed that she had become power hungry, and a complete hedonist since going to live at the new location. She ordered her wealthy father to hire a platoon of men to satisfy her lust. They keep on needing to hire more because she keeps on killing them by insisting on being on top, flattening them under her ever expanding hips and ass.

Not to be outdone, another claimed that she was actually being tested on by the government, and there were secret experiments being done to grow other people like she was growing in a bid to make super soldiers. It only worked on women, of course. The compound was becoming full of 8 foot tall beauties growing larger and larger alongside Trish.

The biggest punch to the stomach was an account that got made a few weeks later. Whoever it was called themselves “TheRealPatriciaHostettler”. The person made a thread in the general forum, and claimed to actually be Trish, pretending to be curious about what macrophilia was. The thread quickly rose in popularity. Many people asked for proof, but she said didn’t care if people believed her. While Thomas hoped it was actually Trish, whoever it was was likely just a masterful troll, able to play the role of a condescending giantess talking down to the pathetic little people who would want to worship her, while also managing to sound believably like a real person.

“So it’s like a dominance thing?” She wrote. “You want to be ruled over?”

“Yes my queen, please step on me.”

“Ew.”

And so on. The assumed troll feigned ignorance as they guided the roleplay to discussions about the fetish. Feet, crushing, vore, the community was happy to yteach Patricia Hostettler about what her growing body meant for them.

The last exchange with the newcomer was with a user sharing what they found erotic about the process of her growing steadily larger each day:

GrowthFan90: I hope you never stop growing! It’s so hot to imagine you getting so big!

TheRealPatriciaHostettler: I don’t understand that. I think it’s scary. What about it is hot to you?

GrowthFan90: How do I explain? It’s like you are becoming a goddess whether you like it or not. Each day your power grows and in time it will be absolute. I dream that one day I’ll look over the horizon from my house to see your head loitering amongst the clouds.

TheRealPatriciaHostettler: That sounds scary to me. Doesn’t that scare you?

GrowthFan90: Of course, but that’s what’s so exciting about it, don’t you think?

Thomas almost replied to the thread, on the highly unlikely off chance that it was Trish behind the stunt, but he couldn’t bring himself to hope like that.

He spent more weeks obsessing over it, neglecting to do anything about his suspension from the hospital. He was wasting away in his apartment, isolated in much the same way Trish was isolated before. All the competing narratives about Trish and her current status made for strange dreams about reuniting with her, knowing that the longer they spent away from each other the larger she would be.

The most vivid was a recurring nightmare of him walking around the city, the streets all but abandoned. He saw Trish every day, because you could not miss her looming over the horizon, miles and miles tall. Her incomprehensible size wasn’t what made it a nightmare, however, the real nightmare was the look on her face. Smiling, laughing, the bright face she wore during their happiest moments together. Sometimes her mouth moved soundlessly as she addressed some unseen speck of a person held in her hands. She had moved on, outgrowing him in more than just size, she had outgrown her emotional connection to him. The thought of that more than anything caused him to wake up in a cold sweat.

Then, one day, the phone rang.

“Dr. Black?” Asked the gravelly voice on the other side. “It’s Jeb. Jeb Hostettler.”

“How is Trish?” Thomas asked, not returning the greeting.

“Not great. She’s not eating as much as she should. She’s losing weight. Relatively. You know what I mean.” there was a long silence after that.

“And what do you want me to do about it?”

“Why don’t you come over to the ranch and we can talk about it face to face.” He said. He didn’t wait for an answer, just gave the address and a time and hung up. Thomas rushed to get ready, hoping against hope that this was a chance to see Trish again. The stories from the forum were bouncing around in his head. Irrationally, he found himself hoping that he wasn’t going to be fed to her, as if this whole thing was the plot of some sort of erotic fantasy. Also irrationally, he wouldn’t mind if that happened so long as he got to see her again.

Thomas arrived at the gate of the ranch, where Jeb Hostettler was waiting for him flanked by private security guards. He stepped towards the car, and Thomas couldn’t help but notice his hand resting on the revolver hanging on his hip as he got to the passenger side door, opened it, and got in.

“Drive.” He ordered, pointing down the road. “Take a left here.”

“Why am I out here, sir?” He asked, eyeing the man’s revolver.

“Trishie is sad.” He said. “And it ain’t getting better. I brought in another therapist and she couldn’t make heads or tails of her. She said she had a broken heart. Right here, all the way down.”

The two of them passed a large construction site. Jeb had been digging a very large hole for the last few months, it seemed, and now they were reinforcing the walls with steel. It looked like a giant grave to Thomas, able to fit the body of a 500 foot giant, even though it was currently shallow. Future arrangements for Trish’s living arrangements, he guessed.

South of the hole was a different building. A giant warehouse construction. There was a small door to the side with a light above it humming with electricity. To the left, there was a large sliding door, at least 50 feet tall if Thomas had to guess. This must be where she lived. Thomas pulled the car up and parked it next to the door, and shut the car off. He waited in that seat obediently for more instructions from Jeb.

“She’s in there. You know that. Now I don’t know what you’re gonna say or how you’re gonna say it, but you’re gonna make my Trishie happy.” He put his hand on his gun. “I don’t care what she does with you. After what you did to her, I think she’s in her rights to squash you. She could, too. There’s a lot of land out here, boy. Lot of places to put your body where no one will find it.”

“I got it sir.” Thomas nodded, gulping.

“I don’t like you.” He said.

“I know sir.” With that, Thomas exited the car and approached the door, his heart beating in his chest with anticipation at being able to see Trish again, mixed with fear about how she would react to him. Trish wouldn’t hurt him, right?

He opened the door to find a massive concrete floored room set up in many ways to look similar to her place in the basketball court, albeit much more spartan. Front and center was a low concrete slab that served as her table, but it looked more like a giant altar to place offerings on. Behind that. Then there was lots of empty space, about 100 feet of it, before the edge of her bed. As Thomas traversed it, he noticed Trish’s oversized clothes thrown haphazardly around the floor. He passed a pair of her discarded shorts, looking large enough for him to use as a blanket, at least five feet wide at their widest part. 

The bed was much larger than the one in the basketball court, but Thomas couldn’t tell how deep it was. The foot of it was a great wall filling half the width of the warehouse, at least 6 feet tall if not more. Thomas climbed it, a small effort. His view of the top was the vast plane of the bed, about as large as the whole basketball court that served as Trish’s living quarters before. 

In the center was a large hill of blankets that could only be Trish. She was not 80 feet tall as the rumors suggested, but she was larger than when he last saw her, though he could not tell by how much. Thomas approached carefully, not sure where to begin, and being careful not to startle her. He closed half of the distance before calling out her name.

The hill shifted, fingers wrapping around the peak of it, pulling down the blanket to reveal the top of her face. Her eyes dull with depression and hunger, framed by angry, dark rings. They narrowed when she saw him, and blinked as if to see if this was a dream. She rose up to a sitting position, holding the blanket to obscure herself. She was in a ball shape again, clutching her legs to her chest. She was massive, having grown about twice her size since the last time they had spent any real quality time with each other, and at least four feet taller than when he had confronted her in the parking lot. She was truly a giantess now, looming over him even while sitting like this, his head just barely chest level to her. He figured that if she stood he would be shorter than her knee.

Of course the stories on the forum were not real. One look at her face was all Thomas needed to see that. A familiar mantra sprang to mind. Trish was a scared young woman who needed help.

“What are you doing here?” She asked guardedly as she recognized who it was intruding on her living space, and pulled the blankets around herself to hide her huge body from him.

“Your dad asked me to come.” He said. “He said you weren’t eating.” She laughed dryly at that, her eyes flaring with anger.

“Huh? So what, you came here to feed yourself to me? I’m not interested, you little pervert.” She sat up straighter, puffing up instinctually. 

“No, I just want to help.” He insisted, raising his hands up disarmingly.

“Help? More like you want to groom me to act like those monsters you beat off to.” She accused him, folding onto herself further. “That’s what all the confidence stuff was about, wasn’t it? You wanted a monster to sleep with.”

“Hey.” He said, raising his voice now. “You threw yourself at me, remember? Or did you actually forget your drunken escapades? Or our first night together? That was what you wanted, Trish.”

“Yeah, because I thought you were actually helping me and cared about me.” She said, tears beginning to well up. “I caught feelings for you because I thought you didn’t see me as a monster.”

“I never thought you were a monster.” Thomas said, not admitting that he often fantasized about her that way.

“Yes you did!” She accused, slamming her giant fist into the mattress, sending a shockwave through it that Thomas had to balance against. The blankets fell from her knees. “You did! You were just horny about it instead of scared like everyone else!” Thomas took a determined step forward to show he wasn't intimidated, even though he was.

“Tell me Thomas, was it always about my size? Why you cared for me so much? Was everything you did just to try and get in my pants?”

“...I don’t think so.” He said, in a noncommittal way that surprised her. She had been expecting a flat denial. “I admit that I was always attracted to you, since I first met you, and that isn’t just because of my… fetish.” Thomas folded his hands behind his back, and looked down at the empty space between the two of them.

“I never wanted to cross the line. I fought so hard against it for so long.” He looked up at her, and set his jaw. He took a few more determined step towards her, which she leaned away from. He was right in front of her shins now, and he ventured placing his hand on her leg. Trish felt her heart jump as they reconnected physically, a jolt of electricity starting to shock her out of her anger.

“Honestly, maybe a part of that was because of your condition, but it isn’t all of it. When you told me to say ‘I love you’... I meant that and you know it. Search your own feelings and be honest. When you told me that you loved me in the woods, was that because I tricked you into it? For me, it was like I was pulled to you like gravity. I think no you feel that way too.” He looked her dead in the eye with a determined glower, challenging her to even attempt to disagree.

“I love you.” He finished. “And I’m sorry.”

Without warning, Trish lunged at Thomas, opening her hands to snatch him up. Thomas fought to make sure he didn’t flinch, letting Trish’s fingers wrap around him. She lifted him to eye level. She was big enough to lift him with one hand if she wanted, but she brought her other hand to help support his weight anyway.

Why did I grab him? She thought, looking down at the man the size of a baby held in front of her. She felt his small form held in her hands, so delicate and light. She could easily hurt him, if she wanted to. She could throw him across the room, or squeeze the life out of him with her hands. She looked at his face for traces of fear there and found none, even as she clenched her hands more tightly around him to squeeze his body, even as she felt herself pushing the breath out of his lungs with just the strength of her fingers.

I don’t want to hurt him, she knew. So why did I grab him? Why am I squeezing him so tightly? She thought again as she brought him closer to study his face. He looked sad. He looked worried, but not about being hurt. He was worried about her, about the two of them as partners. Her warm, kind Dr. Thomas Black.

Of course, I picked him up to kiss him. She brought him to her lips, bigger than his entire face. She felt him reach forward to grab onto her, clutching desperately at her jaw line to hold her to him. The giantess parted her lips and kissed him delicately, her top lip pressing against his forehead, her bottom lip pressing on the underside of his chin. She pressed her tongue forward into his face, trying the passionate french kiss that they shared before their unfortunate separation, but she was much too big for that now. Thomas tried to return the kiss valiantly, pressing his lips and tongue into her much larger mouth. Her breathing alone was overpowering him, forcing him to exhale as she inhaled, lest the air be pulled from his lungs from the force, and inhaled as she exhaled, his only chance to fill his own lungs. 

When she had had her fill, she pulled him away. Her eyes listed open, crossing slightly as she studied the small shape held so closely to her face. His face was absolutely drenched with her slobber. Noticing the detail made color rise up in the girl’s malnourished, pale cheeks. Thomas sat in her hands, looking up at a woman nearly four times his size blushing like a schoolgirl. He couldn’t help it. He started to laugh. 

“What are you laughing at?” She complained, her fragile feelings beginning to be hurt. Trish’s face burned hotter as he carried on, until he was nearly crying from laughing. But she couldn’t help it, it was contagious. She started to laugh too, softly at first, and then uproariously. She stretched out her arms the farthest she could stretch them, and then fell back on her back into the bed, suspending Thomas in the air 7 feet above her face. They two looked at each other and laughed, and laughed, and laughed until tears were streaking down their faces. Trish brought him down to her chest, resting him there on her chest, her big laughs shaking his body, her hand gently pressed to his back to hold him in place to her heart, where he belonged. Their crying laughter turned to open weeping, tears of relief that the dark clouds of their separation were finally dispersing.

The tears eventually dried up, and the reunited couple were content to breathe together. Trish relished the feeling of Thomas held to her chest, and Thomas the feeling of rising and falling as Trish took deep breaths. 

Trish squeezed him gently. A single hand now large enough to cup his back. She traced her finger over his familiar, if now seemingly smaller, back muscles. Two months of missing him, one month hating him, and now that she forgave him, she was struck by just how small he was compared to her now. All the while they had been separated, she had been shutting out how large she had been getting. It was too painful, on top of everything, to watch the world shrink around her. Now that she was reunited with Thomas there was a reason to pay attention, and she didn’t like what she saw.

She was so, so much bigger than him. Her hands alone were about as long as his torso. She could rest the heel of her hand on his shoulders while her fingers stretched down to stroke his lower back. His weight there on her chest was like her cat sitting on her when she was a kid.

She pushed her hand underneath him, coaxing him to rise to a sitting position on her chest so that she could see his face. She continued to stroke him with her fingers while giving him a ponderous look. Thomas wrapped his hands around two of Trish’s fingers as she idly stroked him, pushing them, twisting them, and manipulating them. Trish snapped out of dwelling on her size briefly to play back, bending her fingers forward to push back against Thomas. Thomas resisted against the bending of her foot-long fingers, bending them back and preventing them from grasping him. Trish smiled and let him push her back, liking the feeling of his strength against her hand.

Mmm, strong guy. She thought, though she could have easily rolled her wrist forward and overtaken him. Would he like that? She thought about what the agents had shown her about his fetish and of her own research she conducted later. At the time it seemed like everything written there was designed to make her feel self conscious. And yet, Thomas liked her this way. In a strange way, it reminded her of when she was school aged and developed more womanly features, and began to learn the allure her curves had to some of her peers. It was like she had come into possession of something they all desperately wanted. 

She rolled her wrist forward, easily bypassing his defenses and ran her finger over his neck and jaw. He grabbed onto it, pulling it in to keep it pressed to him. 

“So…” he started, rubbing the length of her finger. “forgiven?” He ventured. 

Trish gave a smile and a half nod. “Forgiven. And I'm sorry, too. I should have heard you out.”

“It's ok. You were under a lot of duress.” Thomas dismissed. The two continued to stroke each other, saying nothing for some time. 

“I lost my job.” Thomas said.

“Oh no!” Trish exclaimed, splaying her fingers to end the teasing. 

“Yeah. Agent Grisham blindsided me.”

“Ugh.” Trish groaned, thinking about her treatment at the hands of Agent Grisham. A shiver ran down her spine. Thomas could feel it trough her skin. “I just don't understand how someone could be so cruel.”

“They wanted to provoke you and get me out of the picture. They know I'm the one who hit Dr. Vale.” He said, grabbing for her hand to bring it back to him.

“And you and Melanie…?”

Thomas chuckled dryly. “We’re over. You should have seen it. When I was being escorted out by security I was loudly processing my love for you in front of her and the rest of the hospital.”

“Dork.” She scoffed, but then leaned forward to place a kiss on his head.

“Where does that leave us?” Thomas ventured once free from her lips. Trish’s lips curled into a smile.

“What do you mean? I'm not mad at you anymore, you're single now…” she listed as if the conclusion was obvious.

“So, partners?” Thomas ventured.

“Partners.” Trish confirmed with a nod of her head. Thomas put his hands in the air and cheered, making Trish laugh again. She realized that it was the first time she had laughed or smiled in three months. She smiled brightly at the little man perched on her chest, and felt a warm, tingly sensation throughout her body. God she loved him. She never wanted to be away from him ever again.

“I have a strange question. Let me know if this is too forward.” She said as she began to sit up. She held Thomas to her as she rose, laying him down gently between her splayed legs.

“Shoot.” Thomas said.

Trish played with her hair nervously. “Would you… want to move to the ranch?” She managed to spill out. She was looking off to the side, but kept glancing at him. She was unable to make eye contact but also unable to bear not seeing his reaction. Thomas smiled, once again taken by how adorable it was for a woman nearly four times his size be so bashful.

“Honestly…” Thomas started. Thomas felt the same way about their reunion. He had spent too long away from her. There was a deep pit in his heart that could only be filled by having her close to him. “That sounds like moving really quickly.”

“Yeah.” Trish nodded. Rationally she knew that would be really fast, but in her heart she knew that’s what she wanted, and she knew that’s what Thomas wanted too.

“Yeah.” Thomas said.

“So you’ll do it?”

“Of course.”

“God I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you so, so much.”