Jason coughed, his throat burning painfully, as he opened his eyes and blinked. As he began shifting his limbs, he felt uncomfortable roughness brushing his back. He rolled his head from side to side and twisted his wrists around, trying to get his bearings, and grasped at whatever he was laying on. It wasn’t solid ground; it was a large, wooden chunk, like mulch, but flakier. He brought it closer to his eyes and squinted as he slowly adjusted to his vision again. If he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed it was ground cover for a hamster cage. Mentally, he chuckled at this idea, and suddenly felt a jarring headache as he pulled himself into a sitting position. What had happened?
He was still wearing his clothes from work: a white dress shirt, red tie, and blue coat. This much he knew. What else?
The drinks. He’d had a lot of them the night before. Most of them spent thinking with increasing non-clarity about his wife and soon-to-be ex, Martha. He remembered paying, and stepping groggily out toward his car. After that, it was all a blank.
Figured.
At this point, Jason deduced that he had to have been passed out in a disgusting alley a block from the bar, no doubt with his wallet long-taken by street thugs as he slept, when he was startled to look straight ahead. Metal bars, thick and rusted, crisscrossing along and running upward like an incredible wall, filling his field of vision. He turned his head, and felt his blood run cold as he realized they encircled him, like a prison wall running up several stories to keep out the most violent criminals. As he looked up, he realized there was even a ceiling. Jason gulped. This wasn’t a prison.
This was a cage.
He leapt to his feet, running forward and stopping at the edge as he threw his hands around the bars, shaking at them with a few token clangs. Very solid: there was no way he was shaking them apart. And the holes were far too narrow for him to squeeze through; all he could do was stare through them. He pressed his face against the hole, about to process what was laid in the confusing outside world, when he heard a whimper. It was soft, but it caused him to turn around, because he recognized it. About ten feet back, also laying in the strange, soft wood shavings was another person. He didn’t even need to squint much to recognize her instantly as Martha.
He dashed over to her, grabbing ahold of her hands and pulling the dazed woman to her feet. She ruffled her smooth brown hair, trying to get the tiniest bits of wood shaving out of them, then locked eyes with her husband. They looked confusedly at one another, and then her eyes wandered, her jaw dropping at what lay before them. Then she looked back at her husband, frowning.
“Jason…” she gasped, and he quickly threw his hands up in self-defense at her inevitable accusation. “JASON…”
“I don’t KNOW, okay?” he quickly blurted, looking around frantically. “I woke up, just the same as you in here, I don’t know WHAT…” he continued, raising his voice at irregular intervals. Martha sniffed the air.
“Your breath.”
“What about it?” he asked irritably.
She shook her head, then raised a disapproving eyebrow. “You’re drunk.”
“Yeah, got that right. I’m so drunk as fuck I can’t even remember what…” mumbled Jason, stumbling slightly, pacing a few steps away back toward the cage wall. “All I can say is that…”
“Don’t even try to tell me whatever the hell is going on doesn’t have something to do with something YOU did, Jason!” yelled Martha back at him, following after.
“Do not EVEN try to pin this on me!” retorted Jason, already becoming heated in the mere presence of his wife. They both advanced toward each other, sneering, about to speak again, when they were both silenced by a slow, rhythmic sound, followed by rushes of warm air. The couple, each perpendicular to the closest cage wall, turned their heads simultaneously, and instantly felt their legs turn to jelly.
Before them, filling almost the entire cage wall, was a face. Jason blinked, thinking he was staring at a skyscraper banner advertisement, but as soon as he did, he saw the eyes blink calmly. Life. The couple traced their eyes over the monstrous countenance. It was a woman; this much was obvious. Her deep brown eyes, with a sprinkling of hazel just to give them a soft glow, seemed to stare right through them, her long eyelashes batting as she blinked, slight laugh wrinkles peeking at the corners of her eyes. Silky, wavy black hair fell thickly down her shoulders, although it looked neatly kept and brushed. Her lips were a pale pink, indicating she probably was wearing lip gloss, as the plush pillows of skin also had an indescribable sheen to them, reflecting off the shallow cracks of her lips. Her nose, long and thin, guided up along the thin cheekbones of her healthily colored face, a few small, nearly invisible birth marks dotting her cheeks sparsely. The warm air was coming from her nose as she exhaled steadily.
Jason swallowed hard, his head hurting even more now. She hadn’t been there a second before; he realized at this point that he had been so into his brief discussion with Martha, he hadn’t noticed a woman’s face, proportionately belonging to a body that stretched out for 150 feet relative to Jason and Martha. The couple gasped, shaking, as they stepped back. Their brains had only just begun trying to process the impossible sight before them, when yet another impossibility was presented.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor,” came the soft, gentle voice of the woman, who appeared to be in her mid-thirties, her lips parting to reveal her sparkling white teeth, her attempt at a whisper nonetheless coming in loud and clear to the confused couple. “Do you both feel all right?”
Jason grasped at the back of his head, blinking some more while shaking his head. “This is… this can’t…”
She grinned. “Don’t try to think about it, Jason. You’ll only stress yourself out more. Just answer the question.”
Martha nodded, trying to take charge despite her flushed face and bugged eyes. “W-We’re f-fine…” she answered weakly, still drinking in the sight of this massive woman’s face, unable to get over it. “W-Where are…”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Where are my manners?” giggled the woman warmly. “Welcome to my home, such as it is. I’m afraid I can’t afford much else than an apartment, but you understand how finances are. I’ll bet you two know it better than most, actually…”
“W-Wha…”
“You know. You’re practically newlyweds. Just over a year ago, right? Money’s tight. You both understand that.”
“P-Please…” gasped Martha, shaking her head. “T-Tell us w-what’s g-going on…” At this point, the only thing keeping Martha from cracking at the movie theater-sized face speaking to them was the purely sweet and caring sound of her voice. It was, frankly, relaxing Jason as well, despite the fear he still felt readily at the unknowns of his current situation.
A colossal fingertip suddenly rose into view, covering up the woman’s pursed lips as she continued smiling. “Shhh… don’t be afraid, little ones. Everything will become clear very soon.” With this final word, her entire hand came into view, causing both Jason and Martha to back away in fear. The hand was so large, her inner palm a wide plain of pale flesh, her fingers like muscular logs as they fumbled with a lock on the side of the cage. An instant later, the door crashed down metallically, allowing the terrified couple a clearer image of the woman. Then the hand entered, the fingers outstretched, her unpolished, cleanly filed nails looking like glistening medieval shields plastered onto her fingers. Jason and Martha didn’t get far, so great was their shock and so quickly did the hand move, that an instant later they both found themselves closed up against the soft palm flesh, like a moving wall so high that Jason knew he wouldn’t be able to reach the top of if he tried. He guessed that at the current relative difference between them, the woman’s cushy, warm palm would be about as wide as he was tall if he stretched his arms out as far as he could above his head. Holding the pair side by side, the woman’s fingers curled inward, feeling like padded metal traps holding Jason so firmly against the small of his back and his shoulder blades, he knew in an instant that there would be no moving until the fingers moved. The couple gasped as wind rushed past their cheeks, although they couldn’t see well because the woman’s hand was conveniently pressed against their faces. As Jason inhaled in shorter breaths, he could smell the unmistakable scent of hand lotion, very strong in his nostrils, wafting off of her skin.
Just before Jason or Martha thought they would be sick, they breathed a sigh of relief to feel solid ground beneath their feet, the fingers retracting. Jason was now able to look forward and see the titaness in all of her glory. Her face now sat far above them, her arms crossed authoritatively. She wore a simple light blue sweater, a pair of dune-sized C-cups pressing resiliently against the patterend fabric from inside. Jason gulped, falling over as he practically forgot how to stand up at the mere sight of her. Instinctively, he moved toward Martha, and in a moment of rareness for their recent relationship, their fingers touched gently for protection.
The woman leaned far down over them, making her face once again pretty much all the pair could see. Jason’s eyes darted around. He spied a TV the size of a city bank in the far distance. A couch that looked like it could have been converted into a shipping vessel. A kitchen table the size of an ancient temple. Slowly, against the will of his better judgment, Jason’s mind started subconsciously accepting the impossible truth. Everything else was as big as the woman. It wasn’t the woman that had done something. He and his wife were just smaller.
A lot smaller.
“Tell us what’s h-happening!” called Martha, waving her arms as if the woman couldn’t see her. “Who are y-you?”
The woman smiled again, her eyes glowing like a Christmas tree. “My name is Amanda, Martha.”
At this, Martha cocked an eyebrow. “How do you…”
“Oh, I know a lot more about you than just your name, Martha. You two, Jason,” she grinned. “Your lives. Your jobs. Your marital troubles…” she mumbled, sounding sad on these last words. Martha sputtered, trying to process this. And finally, it started to sink in as she too examined the cavernous room before them.
“W-W-Wait… you… then you…”
Amanda nodded. “Yes.”
“No. YOU… you… you d-did this…” breathed Martha, and the humongous face nodded again, her nostrils flaring as a few stray jet black hairs fell out of place from leaning so far over.
“Yes. It was me,” stated Amanda, clearly indifferent to this discovery. “I’ve brought you both here.”
Jason, at this point, had summarized his thoughts enough, and was ready to speak up. “YOU? You brought us HERE? W-Where ARE we?”
Amanda chuckled, sending a few short bursts of hot air down onto the couple. “Try to keep up, Jason. You’re in my apartment. But that’s not important right now. What’s important is why I’ve brought you two here…” she continued, resting her chin on her hand, casually tapping at her lips with a long pointer finger. Jason and Martha exchanged a confused look.
“W-Why h-have…”
“I’m going to save your marriage, Martha,” answered Amanda for her, sounding slightly smug at this goal.
“S-Save our… WHAT?” shouted Jason, his confusion slowly turning to agitation.
“Well, let’s face it… it’s a mess…” said Amanda simply and matter-of-factly. “I mean, YOU, Martha… you never get to spend time with your husband, you work all day at home and never get a day to yourself…” she said, her massive eyes locking with Martha before moving to Jason. “And you, Jason… you work so hard, all year round, and you never hear a word of thanks. You’re underappreciated. You feel disconnected from Martha, don’t you?”
Jason and Martha froze, horrified to hear their exact feelings spoken by a total stranger. Their arms shook, turning colder, their fingers locked together for security. “Who the hell ARE you?” shouted Jason, gaining more confidence.
“I told you. I’m Amanda, and this evening…” continued their captor, sitting fully back up, her head rising much higher into the air. “…I will be your marriage counselor.”
“Yeah…” mumbled Jason, shaking his head in disbelief, refusing to accept what was being said. “NOT HAPPENING! Undo this, whatever the hell it was you did!” As soon as the last word was out, Jason found a soft thumbprint wider than his face jamming against him so hard he thought his nose might have been broken, the sheer plowing force of the skin hitting him with the similar sensation of a falling anvil on his nose. He stumbled over to the tabletop instinctively as Amanda retracted her hand, which she had casually swept down onto him. Martha helped Jason back to his feet, the man tilting his head back and pinching at his nose as he realized it was bleeding. Amanda began to tsk softly at them, shaking her head.
“I believe this is part of your problem, Jason…” said Amanda thoughtfully, as if nothing had just happened. “Your temper. It’s part of what’s caused your wife to hate you so much. But don’t worry, though,” she said reassuringly, grinning at them, showing her teeth as Jason stared up in wide wonder at the terrible tower of woman, finally tangibly sure of what she was capable of. “…we’re going to deal with ALL of that before we’re done here. First things first, though. I like to have a very open environment when I’m counseling my troubled newlyweds…” she continued absentmindedly, revealing to the couple with a bone-chilling sensation that she had, indeed, done this before. “So what I’ll need both of you to do is take your clothes off.”
She smiled sweetly at them, while they drew a complete mental blank. “W-What… c-clothes off, you m-mean…” mumbled Jason, the bleeding beginning to slow down, although his nose was still stinging painfully.
Amanda nodded again. “Yes. I mean take your clothes off. All of them. Strip down, and leave them on the table here.”
The couple was dumbfounded. In their instant of hesitation, though, Amanda had already sighed deeply, seeing she wouldn’t be getting much of anywhere, and brought her hand back up. Using her thumb, she compressed Jason against the table top, holding him down squarely on his throat, blocking his airflow with her thick, smooth digit. Martha yelped in fear and horror, rushing forward and locking her arms around the finger and its rippling muscles to try and force it off, but it was no use, and soon Jason started gasping for breath, choking.
“STOP! PLEASE!” roared Martha. “WE’LL DO IT!”
Immediately, the thumb was removed, and Jason grasped at his bruised throat. He stared up with newfound appreciation for the situation, and stood up with the help of his wife.
“That’s better, Martha,” said Amanda softly, her quiet, disarming tones now taking on a terrifying quality as the couple realized how uncharacteristic it was of this sheer giant’s true nature. “Now get started. Everything. I want it all off in the next minute.”
The couple got to work, throwing shirts down first thing. Jason had no trouble with this, and even found it not as hard to force his pants off, leaving only his underwear. However, looking up, he noticed an oddly hungry gleam in Amanda’s eyes as she continued smiling, her face leaning back in against for a good view of this. She was looking forward to it. However, she must have noticed his hesitation, because she raised her hand back up, extending her thumb threateningly.
“Off, Jason. Now,” she said much more sternly than she had previously. Swallowing what he believed at the time was the last of his pride (although he was gravely mistaken), Jason closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Amanda’s wide-eyed reaction, and slipped his thumbs into the waistband, dropping his underwear to his feet, standing completely nude before the total stranger who had kidnapped himself and his estranged wife, feeling cool air washing over his entire body from the AC. Martha did the same, a few tears of shock falling down her cheeks as she ripped the panties and bra from her body. Now, both people completely naked on the table in the mysterious apartment of the surname-less Amanda, Jason cupped both hands around his member for privacy, Martha doing the same with a forearm across her chest and her other hand over her crotch.
At this sight, Amanda threw her head back and laughed heartily, hurting the ears of the two embarrassed and scared two and a half inch-tall people. Wiping her watering eyes, she turned back to them.
“Oh for God’s sake… really? Take your hands off your goods, my little lovebirds,” she ordered softly, the cold, shivering couple refusing to budge. “NOW.”
And they did, painfully. Amanda smiled wider, the tip of her tongue slipping wetly out the edge of her mouth as she drunk in the scene, clearly immensely enjoying the sight. Finally, after a few uncomfortable minutes of silence, with Amanda examining the naked bodies of her two stalked victims unblinking and mesmerized, Martha couldn’t take it anymore and spoke up, the tears still flowing.
“Why are you DOING this? What are you g-going to DO w-with us?” she screeched, half-not wanting to know the answer.
This seemed to break Amanda from her trance. She cocked her head, smiling out of the corner of her mouth deviously. “What are we going to do, Martha?” she repeated happily. “Save your marriage. Remember?”
“HOW?”
“We’re going to play some games. All… kinds… of games…” Amanda sighed softly and pleasurably for emphasis, effectively raising a cushy, warm hand back toward the helpless, naked toys that stood on the table.