“What Saussure proposed, class, was that all signs were made of two components, the Signifier and the Signified. The Signifier is an image, a sound-image. The word, the sound, 'car' is a sound-image, which bring up the Signified, which is a concept. When I say 'car' you immediately think of a vehicle with four wheels that you drive. But Saussure took that a little further and asked why is it that the sound 'car' should bring up the concept of a vehicle that can be driven? Why should 'tree' not bring up such a concept, or 'horse' or 'swiss cheese'?”
Miranda Caldwell was not listening as her literary professor talked, pointing a some graph that he had drawn that was essentially a circle with a line drawn through it. Both sections of the divided circle had a word. The top part said “Signifier” the bottom read “Signified”. Miranda saw this, for, indeed, she was looking at the board, but she may as well have been miles away, because none of it was getting through. A quick look at her would have given her away to any sane professor of the university, but she was in the back, sitting behind a particularly large male student, who blocked the prof's view of her.
She was sitting in her desk, her chin rested on her hand, supported by the desk, a dreamy look in her distant eyes. A large textbook was next to her, unopened, unlike the rest of the class. A small smile was on her face. In her mind, she was in a whole other world. Occasionally, she would peek back into reality for a moment, only to return to what elementary school teachers referred to as La-La land. Every now and then she would giggle to herself quietly as something amusing occurred to her. It was lucky that she was so far in the back, or some of the other students would have thought she was crazy.
The campus was the setting of her fantasy. For many, it would have been a particularly odd day dream for a person to have. She had inventing little imaginary events in her head for many years now and they all had one central thing in common. They all followed a certain structure, a shared theme and form. Miranda had very little recollection as to why she was so taken with this theme of day dreams. She sometimes tried to remember what had sparked her interest but never came up with anything convincing. But, it didn't really matter much. Nobody remembers the first time they tried their favorite food, they just know that it's a food that they can never, ever, say no to.
The fantasies all revolved around her. And she was always gigantic in them.
Physically, she was in a classroom, listening (or suppose to be listening) about literature. In her mind, she was strolling about campus, standing around one hundred feet tall, stepping on as many of the little people, most of them composing of people who she had thought were annoying and professors who had given her a hard time. All of the little people were running from her massive figure, screaming with terror with every earth shaking step she took. Cars and signs were flattened and great chasms in the earth marked the streets of her deadly path. The buildings, not built to withstand the might earthquakes of her footfalls, began to disenegrate slowly, bricks falling from the place and raining down to the ground.
Currently, the great goddess Miranda was going after the history prof she had had last semester. The middle aged woman was fleeing for her life, but, oh please! It was such a pathetic attempt, it was actually kind of sad. Miranda couldn't help but giggle. Not wanting to spoil the affect, the giant college student followed her ex-prof slowly, giving the desperate woman the impression that she could possibly make it to safety. Every now and then, Miranda would bring her foot down harder, shaking the little woman up, just to give her a little more motivation. Eventually, the prof ran into the meager shelter of a dormitory. Oh, what a silly woman to think that such a flimsy building would keep out a goddess. No, that building might as well have been made of the thinnest cardboard. But, of course, it would be too easy to just bring the building down on the woman's head, though that would be great fun. Instead, Miranda dropped down to her knees, and peered through the glass doors. The woman screamed for her life, pathetically trying to apologize for putting Miranda on the spot that one day and hopelessly promising that she would never do it again and that she would give her the biggest curve on the next exam. These rather sad attempts at bribery fell on deaf ears. Miranda reached through the building, her fingers effortlessly shearing through the glass and metal of the doors, and playfully walked her hand towards her prey. The teacher ducked behind the Resident Director's desk, as if it would somehow repel the giantess. The fingers simply plowed through the desk and the tiny woman was brought out. Miranda stood at full height, her long black hair flowing in breeze, her giant shadow casting darkness all over the campus. The giantess told her that she didn't really like how her professor seemed to like to stamp F's on people's papers. Perhaps it was time for her to get a good stamp of her own. The teacher was placed on the ground and Miranda slowly lifted a shoe into the air. She blew a kiss to her professor and gave her a smile and a friendly 'bye bye' wave before....
"Miranda..." A voice said lightly. "You can leave now."
Miranda sat up suddenly. "I'm listening! I heard!"
"No," Mr. Cook shook his head, grinning a little. "Class is over. You can go now."
The woman looked around the room. Only she and the professor remained.
"I mean, it's very nice to know that you're so interested in Literary Criticism," The professor said, joking. "I'd be happy to keep teaching you if you'd like to drop by for office hours."
"No thank you, Mr. Cook," Miranda replied, smiling politely. "I think I'll be fine."
"Well, I just thought I would offer it," Mr. Cook said, grabbing his bag. "Have a good weekend, Miranda."
The man walked out, with Miranda helping herself to his backside as he went through the door. When he was gone, she sighed dreamily. Mr. Cook was actually very handsome and had been a subject of a few of Miranda's fantasies. But, her behavior towards him was much more pleasant than towards her history professor. As Miranda walked out of the classroom, she was walking down to where his office was in her imagination. Stepping on most of the cars in the parking lot, except his, she crouched down to his office window and tapped on it. He came into view, pulling back the curtain, and winked at her, dressed in a very nice suit. Miranda reached through the window and brough him out. He wouldn't need his car tonight, she would tell him. He was riding Miranda Express, where he would be given the greatest seat available. At which point, she unbuttoned her blouse, exposing the tops of her breasts, where she would tuck him away snuggly for their date.
Miranda stepped outside and onto the campus' large courtyard. In front of her was the tall administration building, which, like every other university in America, had a clock tower. Miranda imagined her giant self strolling around campus and stopping by the admin building, to bend down and check the time on the clock before continuing on her way. The clock was big enough for a giantess to read that was for sure. Then again, a giantess was never late. It only took a few steps for Miranda, a commuter, to get from her house to the school. Plus, Miranda would show up when she wanted to show up, or the professor could eat the sole of her boot.
As she left campus and headed for home, she looked around the neighborhood and wondered how it would look from the perspective of a woman one hundred feet tall. She would also ponder if she would let any of the children ride on her shoulders for fun while she went for a walk. If she was that big, she would never have to drive or spend money on gas and repairs. All she would need to go on a road trip was the motivation to get off her butt and walk there. She could gather some of her friends, have them ride on her shoulders or in her pockets, and they would have a grand time walking past rush hour traffic and getting where ever they were going faster than most trains.
Her mind then wondered to her dad's auto garage shop, where she worked with her older brother. Miranda's job was simple, she rolled tires and handed tools to the people who actually knew how to use them. She sometimes felt a little useless working there, but imagine how useful she would be if she was giant. She could move more things around, inspect cars from top to bottom with ease, and clean the outside faster than anybody (provided she was gentle with it). And if a customer ever showed her daddy a hard time he would have to just walk home, because Miranda would be peeling their car from the bottom of her boots after that.
Approaching home, she remembered the only problem she could think of if she were to live as a giantess. She wouldn't have shelter. She could probably get food. Find a cow, make a fire, cook it and call it dinner. Basically a giant hamburger. But it would be rather hard to find a decent lodging that would cover her head from the storms. If there was one thing a giantess would be afraid of, it would be a bolt of lightning. And Miranda, try as she may, had yet to find a anything better than crawling in a large cave, which didn't sound appealing at all. Another obvious problem was where would she do her business? That was another thing that she didn't have an answer to and even more didn't like to think about.
She went inside her home and called out, "heeellooo?" No one answered. She shrugged and dropped her book bag in the closet and headed to her bedroom. When she got there, she hoped on her bed, reached under it and pulled out a little safe box. When it was unlocked, she pulled out one of the composition books in their. So far, she had written two complete stories about her particular taste of fantasies. In the first one, her favorite, she was benevolent and generous goddess, one with all sorts of magical powers, who ruled a far away land, protecting all of her small, but loyal subjects from anything that would try to harm them. While she was a gentle giantess, she was still awe inspiring with her size, majesty, and power. All of her subjects prayed to her and left her gift to thank her for her wonderful benevolence and her protection. The other story was a war story, where she conquered many nations with her amies and with her ultimate weapon, her boots.
The topic of crushing things caused her mind to drift towards her older brother. While she loved her older brother deeply, it was his friends that were sometimes a pain in the ass. They were just the cocky type of college students that just annoyed the daylights out of here and each of them, there were two, had gotten their fair share of day dreams where they ended up under an annoyed Miranda Caldwell's boot.
Her brother, Bradley, was a mechanic at her father's auto-garage. He was pretty skilled with tools and his hands in general. He was the one that Miranda often fetched tools for. He knew how to fix really anything, just like her father could. But, he could do more than simply repair things, he was also quite skilled at building things as well. Every year, with the help of his annoying friends, he entered an architectual competition held where people invented and built creative things to enter. Miranda wasn't very interested in the whole thing, but it was always nice to cheer on your brother whenever you could. It was what family was for, after all. Bradley had been working in the large basement of their home for weeks now, preparing for this years competition. That meant that she had to see his friends more than she truly cared to. She had no idea what they were doing this year. Bradley had kept it secret, saying that it would be his best entry for the contest, yet. He had gone as far as to lock the basement door so no one could sneak down there if they got too curious.
But, a few days ago, her brother announced that his project was almost completed. Miranda was actually a little anxious to see it.
She opened her composition book and began a new story. This one would just be a short one for fun. The daydream she had been having in class today was very amusing to her and she wondered how good of a story it would make. She had just been about to squish her history prof into the cement, but what would happen after that? She could write about Mr. Cook or going around stomping the campus to dust just for fun. It wouldn't be the first time she had thought about it. In fact, along with the entire community, she had crushed the campus more than anything else in her fantasies. Uusally, the community was empty when the dream sequence took place, focusing just on the act of the buildings being pulverized as she ground the bricks into dust under her boots. Stepping on things was what she did as a goddess. It was her ultimate weapon and the way she dealt with frustrating people in the real world through her imagination.
It was looking to be a good story, when she heard the front door open. Quickly, she stopped and put her work back into the safe box. She had, naturally, never told people about her fantasies. It would be hard to explain to them why she enjoyed them so much. They weren't always innocent little fantasies, where she was a goddess on a rampage. Sometimes, she found the idea kind of erotic and she began to have, when she was in middle school, sexual fantasies that shared the same thing. It would be incredibly embarrassing if anyone were to find out about it. Besides, why did they need to know anyway? It was her special thing to herself and no one else needed to know about it.
She hopped off her bed and went to see who had just walked into the house. She ran into her brother, Bradley, in the hall way.
"Miranda!" He cried. "You're here! Great! I was hoping you'd be here."
"I'm here," Miranda smiled. "What's up?"
"I finished my entry last night," Bradley announced proudly. "I was up till three in the morning working on it."
"Yeah, I know," Miranda told him. "So was I, listening to it."
"Sorry," Bradley apologized, laughing a little. "I was just in a hurry. I wanted to finish it so I could get it ready for the show."
"Cool," Miranda leaned towards him. "Can I see it?"
"Yep!" Her brother replied. "That's why I'm glad you're here. I forgot to lock the door last night, so dad already saw it. He snuck down there this morning after you left."
Miranda giggled at that. She too had tried to sneak down there to see what her brother was up to. She followed her brother to the basement and went down the dark steps, having to feel her way down. When she finally reached the bottom, Bradley touched her shoulder.
"Don't move," He cautioned. "It's fragile, so I don't want you to run into it. Let me get the lights."
"What if you run into it?" Miranda asked.
"Don't worry," Bradley replied. "I know where it is real well by now, trust me. I won't run into it." The sounds of him rummaging around were heard as he searched for the light switch. When he finally found it..."Brace yourself. This will blow you away. I present to you, my best work! TA DA!"
He flew the switch and the lights came on. The basement floor was covered with a model replica of the entire community. The basement was very large, allowing for the buildings to be rather big, some of the houses and other buildings came up halfway her shins. The detail was incredible. Not only was every building of their little community accounted for, but the streets and light posts, mailboxes, cars, and even people were all accounted for. It looked like Bradley had shrunken the town and placed it in the basement of their house. Heck, their house was on the model. It was right in front of Miranda, actually. It was in range of her feet...
"Isn't it amazing?" Bradley Caldwell asked, beaming. He pointed. "There's the university. The post office, the municipal building, the elementary school, the suburbs, the stream. It's all there. And, not only that, but the buildings are decorated on the inside as well. Now, naturally I don't know how everyone decorates their house, so there's a uniform furniture design in each of the houses, but it adds to the effect. Also, there are cars as you can see and people walking down the street. I really tried to capture the entire community, so it's like we're looking at it from the perspective of a bird who took a picture. It's a still image of an average day." He turned and looked at his sister. "Well, what do you think?"
Miranda Caldwell didn't reply. She was staring at the model with a strange look. Her hands were at her mouth like she had been shocked or awed or both. His sister looked more nervous all of a sudden rather than appreciative or impressed. A little confused, Bradley stepped towards her and snapped his fingers twice. Miranda flinched and looked at him.
"Wha...I...I'm sorry," She apologized, an embarrassed smile on her lips. "I completely spaced out right there. I was....uh...I..."
"You were just speechless, right?" Bradley teased. "It does kind of take your breath away, doesn't it? You should look at the whole thing. I mean, well..."
He waved for her to come closer. Miranda stepped forward. Whether it was on purpose or not, she wouldn't have been able to say, but she came slowly. Her feet, clad in her black boots, made thumping noises against the wooden foundation that Bradley had laid underneath his model. One of the buildings shuddered a little from the footfalls. A mini figurine fell over as well as she came. For that little thing, her steps were like earthquakes that were too powerful for it to even consider handling. If now laid on its side, next to her foot which would like a towers from the perspective of that little figurine. Miranda's heart began to beat heavier and a little faster.
Bradley was pointing to the center of the model.
"See there?" He asked. "There's the university. You can see the clock on the administration building, the library, the dining hall..."
Indeed, she could. She was tall enough to see everything in the little community. On her way home she remembered pondering what it would look like to stand as a giantess, looking down at the tiny homes and people and cars. All of the cars, while not perfect, were similar to the real cars to that were owned by their neighbors. There was even the ugly puke green one of the old lady next door. It made a loud screech every morning, waking Miranda up all the time. If there was ever a car she would crush if she was a giantess....
Miranda's foot began to tap slowly. Her thumbs twiddled ceaselessly.
"Now, the really cool effect," Her bro went on. "Is the inside. Now, like I said, it's not exact, but it still makes the buildings that much cooler." He waved her to come down. "Just look inside one. Any
of them. You'll be amazed at how real they look."
Miranda walked down the row of houses that edge the border, looking down at the little houses, her eyes sparkling. She picked one at random and dropped down on her hands and knees and brought her eyes down to peer through a window. A lock of her hair swept the ground, knocking over a mailbox and three of the figurines. Her breasts, as she leaned forward, almost knocked over lightpost, but it steadied itself. Miranda looked at these things with a dreamy expression. All she had done was lean forward and look at what that alone could do...She peered through the little the window on the side of the small house. A miniature family room was inside, with a diminutive TV, couch, and family. From their positions, they looked like they were in a still frame in everyday life. They looked so natural that it was almost as if they were real. Miranda patted the ground near the house. The things inside, rocked with the tremor, and the TV almost fell over. Miranda swallowed. It was getting warm in this room all of a sudden. Her heart race picked up.
The two siblings stood back up. Bradley beamed at his sister, proudly.
"Well, what do you think?" He asked. "Can I hear, 'first place'?"
"....yeah, it's really awesome, Brad," Miranda nodded. She wasn't even looking at him, but rather at the model.
"Isn't it?" Bradley said, patting himself on the shoulder more. "I'm glad you like it. I wanted to show it to you before I headed out."
"Out?" Miranda asked, turning to him. "Where are you off to?"
"To celebrate!" He replied. "It was a lot of planning, tool work, preparation, cleaning up mistakes, and replacing thing after said mistakes. I think being able to pull this off is one heck of an excuse to down a few beers at the bar." He took a step forward and gave his little sister a kiss on the cheek. "Love ya, sis. See ya later!"
Bradley bounded up the steps, whistling to himself. His footsteps were heard upstairs as he made his way through the house. The front door was opened and then it was slammed shut. Then, there was silence in the house. A pause, then the faint sound of a car being started. Then, quiet again. Bradley was gone.
Miranda looked at the model city for a long time. Her foot continued to unconciously tap the floor. Her hands kept folding and unfolding nervously at her waist. Her heart beat hard and strong in her bosom. Her breathing was was heavy and slow. It was uncomfortably warm in the basement all of a sudden. Butterflies were whirling and twirling in her stomach. The tapping of her foot continued. With every tap, she had some buildings rattle with the force. She smiled for a moment at the sound.
She turned away from the model city and faced the stairwell that would lead back upstairs.
I...better go upstairs and...do something, she thought.
Her head turned to glance back at the model. So realistic. So beautiful. So little. So fragile. Bradley worked very hard on this. It would be wrong. She knew that. What would he say? What would SHE say? How was she supposed to explain herself? He wouldn't understand. He would think she was weird or crazy. No, she would go upstairs and just go back about her normal business. After all, she had things to study for next week, anyway. It would be good to get started on them.
Extras. In his workbench. He has to have extras.
Miranda stopped and looked to her left at the far wall. Her brother's workbench sat there, all the tools and materials that he had used to create this master piece of a model city. There had to be something there that she could use. Her heart leaped and she hurried over there, her anxious eyes sparkling and a giddy, hopeful smile on her lips. She threw open the first drawer of the bench and pawed through it quickly. She looked on top of the desk itself, looking under the newspapers and blueprints and shoving the tools aside. She got down on her hands and knees and searched under the bench. She searched in the tool boxes and the crates. Every conceivable place she searched and came up empty handed.
She sighed heavily, her hopes sinking, and slunk back over to the stairs, dejected. As she walked, she glanced at the model town again. Her brother had put a lot of time and effort into it. All those weeks he spent down here, slaving away, measuring, cutting, painting, placing, planning. It would be wrong for her to touch it. After all, what would she do if he did something like broke the lock on her safe box in her bedroom and read her stories? Well, she'd be pretty mad, that's what. So, she would just have to...
Just one car.
Miranda stopped at the base of the stairs, one hand on the railing. Her head whipped back towards the model. She looked down one of the streets on the town. There were like five on each block. Sometimes there were more or less. There didn't seem to be a set number of cars for there to be on any given length of road.
Miranda's fingers began to drum the railing. Her eyes were sparkling again. Her heart thumped in her chest, stimulated by the excitement. There were so many cars on the model. Surely her brother wouldn't notice if just one little car went missing. If she just took one...there would be no way for him to notice. At all. As if she expected her brother to appear, she took a quick glance up the stairs and listened hard for any movement. She heard nothing. The house was still empty.
Miranda walked back to the model, slowly, rubbing one arm with her hand, nervously. She crouched down in front of a random street and looked through the selection of cars. Ideally, a car that was in a more obscure hard to see place would be fine. A car deeper into the city would be harder to detect as missing. She leaned forward as she examined her options. Her long hair brushed the streets, knocking over all the figurines, lightposts, mailboxes, newsracks, all that, and over turning a few of the cars. Miranda looked at this small wreckage and immediately giggled with glee. Nevertheless, she straightened up the mess and held her hair back as she looked.
At last she found a small red car almost hidden from all sides around the university. Eagerly, she reached for it, her hair yet again loose, swept many items over. Her breasts dropped dangerously close to the roofs of some buildings, almost plowing through them like giant wrecking balls. This time, however, she didn't pay the wreckage any mind, and snatched up the car in her fingers and stood up, a big smile on her face, her eyes glowing like light bulbs. She truly did look like a child who had found their favorite treat at the candy store and was being allowed to get it.
Miranda placed the small red car on the wooden floor away from the model and stood at full height, planting her hands on her hips. The vehicle was about the size of fignewton from her perspective. Up above, Miranda was smiling and clutching her hair and twirling it in her fingers. She wasn't nervous, but rather excited. She lifted a boot and held it over the car. Her dark shadow loomed over the car. She began to wonder how many stomps it would take to flatten it. She was gonna go with three for now.
“Well, well,” Miranda spoke. “There's no where to run now. You should be happy to know that you're going to be crushed by such a beautiful goddess. There are so many worse ways to go...”
You need a person.
Miranda lowered her foot and looked at the model again, feeling nervousness creep back into her. This didn't feel right. She did need a small person. Otherwise, who was she talking to? The car? Yeah, that made a lot of sense. That would be like telling an ant how much you dominated it due to its puny size. Sure, it may be true but it's not like the ant understands what you're telling it. The question was, would her brother notice? Well...there WERE a bunch of people on the roads. More than there were cars even! No way her brother would miss one. Why shouldn't she help herself to one?
She went over to the model and crouched down again, searching through the little people.
They're all my prisoners. I'm selecting which ones I want to play with. They get no say. We play when I want and we play what I want. And if they say no or try to escape....
Miranda giggled at her thoughts and now looked quicker, her bright, eager eyes darting for the perfect little person. Near the mini mart, she saw a figurine that was in a running pose. He was holding his hat in one hand and seemed to be in a big hurry.
Miranda snatched the little figurine up and set him a few inches away from the car. She then stood up and admired the little set up she had made, regardless of how makeshift it was. She wished she had a back ground for it, but beggars can't be choosers.
She took a few steps away from her toys and then turned away slightly. For a moment she pretended like she was just wondering around and then looked back towards the car and the figurine. She placed her hands on her wide hips and walked over, swinging her hips a little more than usual with every step. When she approached, she lifted a boot into the air and brought it crashing down on top of the car, which exploded into pieces. There was a loud metallic crunch and the shattering of its little glass windows. Some of the tires popped off and flew out from under the sole of her boot and shot across the room. One of them sailed through a window in a house of the model.
Miranda's hands went to her mouth in surprise, but her eyes were delighted and a large, pleased smile formed behind her fingers.
"Oh, I'm sorry," She said to the figurine. "Was that your car? I didn't mean to do that..." As she spoke that last part, she ground her foot into the wood, shearing the metal frame of the tow car. When she was satisfied, she left the boot up, the flattened car stuck to her sole. "Do you want it back?" She asked the figurine, teasingly. She reached a finger under her boot and scraped the car off, raining pieces and chunks of it down on the figurine. "There ya go. You might need to buff out some of those scratches.
She brought her foot down hard, causing the toy man to fall over from the quake. Miranda grinned down at this. Her hands were clutching her hair again, playing with it as she played with her new "victim". Her eyes were huge and sparkly. Her heart was beating so fast. She remembered how she always knocked her victims down with a good stomp of her foot in her fantasies. Not that she needed to, of course. They couldn't outrun her even if she tried to let them.
"What are you doing outside of town?" She asked the little man. "You weren't trying to get away were you? Trying to run away from your goddess? Well, you want to know what happens to little men who try to run from their mastresses?" She lifted up her boot and held it over him. "Now, beg. Beg me to spare your miserable life."
No! Please! Don't hurt me! I'll do anything you ask, please!
"Oooh, that's good," Miranda said softly. "Don't stop. Keep going. I want to see you groveling with everything you've got! Beg! Beg!"
Pleease! Don't kill meee! Please! I'll be good! I promise! Just give me a chance! Just let me be good!
"You don't like you want it that bad..."
No! No no! I do! Please!
"I bet you want me to crush you to bits."
No! Anything but that! Please! I'll do anything! Just name it! Anything! Just let me go!
"Just a smear on the bottom of my big boots..."
No! Why...why are you doing this!?
"Why? Because, my little man....because I want to!"
She stomped on the figurine. It was made out of wood and it splintered under her feet. Like the car, pieces of it soared out from under her shoe, and scattered all over the floor. Miranda lifted her foot up again and, while she didn't stomp, brought it down again firmly, pressing as hard as she could. She felt and heard the wood smooshing underneath her weight and could help but giggle.
When she lifted her boot again, all that was left was a pulverized pile of wood that hardly resembled a human figurine. Miranda was full of glee. She bent down and admired her work, her mind whirling, her heart racing. Her fantasy of being a giantess...for the first time she had seen it happen. She had experienced it. The thrill of being so big, powerful, and destructive. She could wipe out this entire model with one go. She had the power to render it to nothing but scraps. Miranda giggled and imagined herself playing giantess in Bradley's model city. But, she had gotten what she had wanted and now it was time to back upstai...
I need to do that again.
Miranda walked back to the model city and got on her hands and knees. She ignored the cars this time, knowing she couldn't smash too many of them or her brother would get suspicious. But, there were plenty of the figurines around the model. Enough that she could easily take ten and it wouldn't look at all suspicious. She would just have to be careful to not take to many from one specific location. Rather she would have pick them off from random parts of town, not disturbing the equal placement that her brother had positioned them in. She plucked up five figurines from the model and then, sweeping the mess she had made previously with her foot, placed them down on the floor, two in the front, three in the back with about two inches between them.
Then, Miranda stood and replaced her hands against her hips, looking down at her new victims. She began to walk around them, her footfalls coming very close to them. The ones on the edge of her cried tears of fear every time her boots came dangerously close to squishing them. The ones in the middle were staring up at her, awestruck, unable to comprehend the towering beauty before them.
"Now," Miranda began, looking down at her subjects, a little sass in her walk. "From this point on, you little men are now mine. You have no other life outside of my needs, wants, and desires. You exist merely to serve me. You have no other significance. But don't go thinking that your being my servants justifies your existance. If any of you dare defy me, or question me or my wishes, I will see to it that you see a swift end under the heel of my boot. You are mere toys that I can easily replace."
Suddenly, Miranda lifted her boot and stomped on one of the figurines on the outer edge. The other ones all collasped. The giantess ground her victim into the floor, the wood splintering and disentegrating from the weight. The rest of them screamed in horror as one of them was rubbed out before their eyes and they watched as his remains were scraped off the giant boot by the goddess, who was chuckling lightly to herself as she rained her victims with the remains of the dead man.
"You live for as long as I say you live," She told them, enjoying the look of fear on their faces. "I may crush your little bodies just for sheer amusement when I get bored. So, I hope that you tiny men are able to keep me entertained. I do hate boredom..."
"Why are you doing this!?" One of them cried up to her. "What gives you the right to do this to us? What have we ever done to you? Why do you think that yo..."
Miranda cut him off by picking the small man up and bringing him up to her eyes. The man trembled against her fingers and immediately fell silent, only able to release silent screams. Miranda favored the man with a look of slight annoyance. She shook her head slightly.
"Were you not listening?" She asked the man. "I shouldn't waste my breath repeating myself to a mere insect. But, before I put an end to your misery, I'll satisfy your curiousity. You have no authority. You don't even have any humanity. You are mere toys, mere objects of my amusement and pleasure. I do with you whatever I want. And right now, you are annoying me..."
"No! I'm sorry!" The man spoke. "I'm sooo sorry! Please! I won't say anything! I'll never speak again! I'll be a good servant! I..!"
"Be quiet," Miranda told him. "I'm not in the mood for begging and pleading. Right now, I think it's kind of boring. I think I'll just kill you now..."
"Nooooo!" The man squirmed in her fingers desperately. "Please! I'm beeeeggiiinnng yoooooou!"
Miranda yawned, demonstrating how boring she thought all of this was. She began to bend down to place him back on the ground but something caught her eye. There was a chair in the far corner of the room. So far, she had only explored one mode of punishment. There was more than one way to crush a disloyal servant who dared question her...
She took a step towards the chair, pulverizing two more of the men on the ground under her boot. The man that remained screamed and his legs gave out from under him as his companions disappeared. Miranda stopped and giggled down at the lone man.
"Ooops," She said teasingly. "My, how clumsy of me..."
The giantess strode over to the chair and pulled it back to where the five men had originally. She dropped the man on the seat and looked down at him for a moment. Then she turned and now her back side faced him. She turned her head and looked back at her victim.
"I don't understand you fear," She told him. "I would think you would be very happy right about now. To die under the healthy butt of a beautiful goddess, it must be one of the top ten most wanted ways to die! How can you possibly be so upset?" She paused for a second and then. "You know, I don't really care what your answer is. It won't be relevant to anybody anymore soon anyway."
She turned her head and looked down at the last man as she took a seat in her chair. She felt her victim flatten under her butt and she wiggled herself into the chair, grounding whatever else remained of him into dust. The last man stared up at her with wide fearful eyes. Miranda looked back at him, smiling pleasantly at him.
"Well, well," She said. "And then there was one."
"You may crush us," The man told her, his voice shaking. "But we will not be defeated so easily! We will retaliate and when we do you will be very sorry for your actions!"
Miranda laughed heartily. She stood up, brushing the bits of her last victim off her bum.
"You plan to attack ME?" She asked in a voice that said 'have you lost you mind'? "How adorable! How laughable! It's like an ant promising to over throw an elephant! You pathetic slaves have do not have a morsel of a chance to defeat me! I am a goddess! And I rule this earth!"
She stomped on the final man not once but three times. There was nothing left to even grind when she was done with him. Miranda held her hair in an excited gesture as she looked down at the result of her handy work. There was nothing that would equal her power on this Earth. Nothing! Anything that dared to oppose her was to be crushed and annihilated. She would see to it personally!
A siren began to wail and Goddess Miranda turned her head. The frightened soldiers were trying as best as they could to get into their positions. They hadn't expected her to arrive so soon. They weren't ready for her. Not even remotely. They underestimated her power and her knowledge. The puny rebels apparently didn't know that nothing, much less a rebellion, can be hidden from her eyes. How clumsy and foolish they had been to even entertain the notion that they would be able to erode her from the throne. But she had found their puny headquarters, sitting atop a rocky hill, and she would see to it that every rebel discovered what happened when you crossed a Goddess.
The giantess took one large step towards the facilities, her boot crushing one of the barracks that they had set up. She smiled at the satisfying crunch of the wooden structure dissolving under her boots like flimsy cardboard. The soldiers now took aim with their assault rifle and shot at the giantess. Miranda laughed as the bullets traveled up and down her legs.
"Hey!" She cried. "Stop tickling me!"
With one swift kick, she sent a dozen men hurling through the air, with several of their jeeps and tanks flying after them, and her boot plowing through three of their barracks. Miranda was absolutely giddy now, laughing with pure delight and glee. Her hands twirled and pulled her hair, as if the excitment coarsing through her body was, while a little overwhelming, immensly satisfying. Her eyes shone brilliantly with cheerifull sparkles and her face was that of a young girl on Christmas morning. She lifted her her boots and marched down a line of barracks, her face lighting up more with every explosion of wood, glass, and other materials. The derbris went everywhere and, like shrapnel, tore through the men and women and the other structures surrounding them.
The sky was lit with lightning bolts, the clouds dark and thick. Thunder filled the air, along with the symphony of gunshots, explosions, and screams. Miranda turned and took a step to the end of a new row of barracks. The soldiers had given up trying to shoot her and were now running anywhere they possibly could. Anywhere to find safety from her boots. The giantess paused for a moment, beginning to raise her foot to start crushing, but then thought better of it. Instead, she bent her knees and leapt into the air. Both boots hammered onto one of the barracks, causing another shrapnel burst of debris. While it was only one barrack she landed on, the entire camp felt the massive tremor of the impact. The barrack next in line fell from the impact alone. Several other structures shuddered, parts of them falling off. Miranda, like a girl playing hopscotch, jumped down the line of barracks. When she got to the last one in the row, she marched backwards back down, finishing whatever was left.
This was absolutely pathetic! THIS was the great rebellion she had been told to fear? This was all they had? This was nothing but a bunch of pests that she needed to crush. They even ran around mindlessly like insects. She enjoyed crushing their meager little facilities of rebellion and hoped that with every stomp of her boot, their morale was crushed along with their bodies. Their would be no forgiveness. They wanted to rebell, well, they better starting rebelling and do a good job of it soon! Otherwise, the party would be over much sooner than any of them would have anticipated. There were still a number of soldiers around her feet. They had no idea what they were doing and were running every which way. She lifted her boot and began stamping it repeatedly on all of them.
"Where is your great rebellion now?" She asked the soldiers before crushing them. "Is this all your puny army is capable? Pathetic! Laughable! Do you hear mean! Laughable! L-A-U-G-H-A-B-L-E!!" She stomped hard on a new soldier, the tremors quaking the entire camp, causing a barrage of explosions and buildings to collapse, with every letter.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"
Miranda Caldwell froze, one boot lifted in the air. Her thoughts were whirling, her breathing was quick, her heat was thumping rapid fire, beads of sweat had formed at her brow. She looked up from her stomping, blinking her eyes.
She was not a Goddess
There was no dark, stormy sky.
There was no rebellion
There was no camp
There were no soldiers.
Reality came flooding back. She was standing in the middle of a ruined model town that had once resembled a minature form of the community that she now called home. The entire neighborhood of homes had been been completely squashed, the wooden remains scattered where they once stood. The figurines and the cars were all flattened and unrecognizable, their parts strewn like limbs in a fierce war and the remnants of the steel armory that once stood strong but had fallen to the enemy. Even the wooden base that held the model was cracked and covered with prints from the sole of her boots.
Miranda slowly turned her head around and looked behind her.
Bradley was standing there. His face was a mixture of rage, horror, misery, and despair. Behind him were his two annoying friends, Duke and Ronald. The two of them just looked at her like she had completely lost her mind. The reality began to sink in. Miranda looked down and saw that one of her feet were still raised in a crushing mode. She lowered it back down and winced as wood and glass cruched under her sole.
She had ruined her brother's model for the architecture competition.
They had seen her playing "giantess".
Miranda felt a bolt of apprehension, guilt, and embarrassment strike her. Her cheeks flushed dark red. She slowly turned around to face Bradley, smiling sheepishly as a symphony of cruches sounded from under her boots.
".....hi, Bradley..." She said softly. "....how was the party?"
"What. The. Fuck!?" Her brother roared at her. He waved his hands repeatedly at the wreckage. "Why!? WHY DID YOU DO THIS? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?"
Miranda continued to simply smile sheepishly, making her look and feel incredibly stupid. Her face blushed deeped, making her turn a dark purple. She needed to say something. Anything. But what? What were you supposed to say to someone when you just destroyed something that they had been working so diligently on for the past month? Her brother looked ready to punch the day lights out of her. Male chivalrity be damned.
"I....I don't know..." She replied pathetically.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'I DON'T KNOW'!?" Bradley erupted. He bared his teeth and waved his hands towards her direction, as if he was trying to think of something else to say. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE!"
Miranda didn't need to be told twice. She darted past the men and flew up the stairs, bits and pieces from the wrecked modeling falling from the soles of her boots.
Four hours later, Miranda was sitting in her room, on her bed, feeling completely humiliated, exposed, and guilty. Bradley spent two hours, cursing bitterly in the basement, cleaning up after his sister's destruction of his project. Her parents came home to find their son raving in pure fury as he threw a trash bag full of wood in the garbage. Upon asking what had happened, Bradley showed them what Miranda had done.
An hour later, all three, father, mother, and brother, came into her bedroom and demanded an explanation for her behavior. Miranda, no matter how hard she wished for one to appear, could not find a convincing lie to tell them. Defeated, she opened the safe box from under her bed and revealed to them her fantasies. She told them everything. She showed them her stories. Told them about her daydreams. Everything. It was not two minutes into her explanation that her family looked at her like she belonged in an insane asylum. Even worse, she had to sit there while they read some of her writings on the subject...which, rubbing salt in the wound, focused on herself as the giantess most of the time. None of her family was able to come up with any sort of response. But her father, to drive the final blow, told her that he had a feeling that a therapist was needed.
Dinner that night was dreadful. Nobody spoke a word and Miranda was afraid to look up from her plate. Partially because she thought that a glare from her brother would most likely kill her on the spot, and also because her face was too red for her to want to show it. It was the longest meal that she had ever experienced and she knew better than to complain when her mother pointed her in the direction of the dirty dishes. The kitchen sink felt like a display case of shame.
Now, she was just lying on her bed, feeling as if her whole family thought she was crazy. Truth be told, she didn't blame them. Perhaps she WAS crazy. What other explanation was there for what she had done. That had never happened before. The closest comparison that she could think of was Zimbardo's prison experiment. One minute she was a normal university student, with a liking of a bizarre fantasy. The next, she was sadistic giantess, planning to brutally destroy the human race. What on Earth had happened? She typically, in her writings, described herself as a gentle and benevolent giantess. But that was not what she was down in the basement. Not at all. She wasn't sure what that was. Even less sure if she wanted to know what it was.
There was a knock at the door. She looked over and saw Bradley at the door,
"Come here," He said. Then, he walked away.
Miranda moaned, but got out of bed and went after her brother. He led her down the hall and, to her great displeasure, went to the basement door and descended down the steps. Sighing miserably, she followed. What punishment had he thought up for her? Was he going to force her to rebuild it? She could already imagine herself stuck down here for hours as he made her work to repair every last thing she had obliterated during her 'episode'. That would take forever and she wasn't very good at building.
Her brother was standing in front of the wreckage. Miranda approached him, her head hung in shame.
"Yes, Brad?" She asked, regretfully. "I told you...I'm really sorry. I...I don't know what came over me, alright? I...I've never done anything like that before. I...I didn't mean it, I..."
"The competition was canceled." Bradley said simply.
Miranda looked up. "Huh?'
"The Architectual Contest." Bradley repeated. "It was canceled."
"C...canceled?" Miranda asked. "Re-really? Why?"
"The guy who runs it died of a heart attack this morning," Her brother told her. "I just got an E-mail about it."
"Oh..." Miranda replied slowly.
"So, it looks like..." Bradley reflected. "Either way...this whole model town thing would have been all for nothing."
Miranda looked up to him. A sparkle of hope was in her eyes.
"Does that mean I'm not in trouble?" She asked, smiling a little.
Her brother gave her a reluctant smile. "Yeah...I guess...this time. You got lucky."
"I'm sorry," Miranda told him. "I...I didn't mean to ruin your model. I...I don't know what to say..."
"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter now," Bradley replied. "All that remains now is to clean up what's left." He patted her shoulder as he walked past. "Go nuts."
Miranda turned with him as he went, grabbing his arm.
"Wait...what?" She asked. "What...what do you mean?"
"I need to clean this up." He explained. "And, I found out today that it's a lot easier to sweep up the pieces than just take the whole thing apart." He patted her shoulder again. "Just make sure you leave everything crushed to fine pieces for me. I'll sweep it up tomorrow."
Without another word, he went upstairs and shut the door. Miranda stood where she was for a moment, looking at where he had gone. Then her head slowly turned to what remained of the model town. The university and the shopping center, along with the post office, were still in tact, with some houses, more or less, standing. A car, some over turned, sat on the roads still. She thought she could see a figurine or two still standing in their fixed positions.
A grin formed on Miranda's lips...
She did her duty quite well, and Bradley found her down there the next morning, sleeping on top of the ruins of the university.