DEJA VU
You wake up, try to open your eyes and know instantly you have died.
Waking up in a clone-vat is not exactly the most enjoyable experience. One cannot move. The body is numb, but a nagging sensation tells you that pain is not too far away. As you come to your senses, millions of needles start working all over your skin. And there is no scratching it.
When you open your eyes, the vat liquid sticks to you eyeballs, and it takes a while to adjust your vision. Everything is greenish looking. Outside the pexi-glass tube, you see the various engineers- nurses working away and the lit panels of their electronic world are the only view around. You cannot move a muscle and vaguely feel a tube attached to your neck, where the oxygen is pumped into your lungs. Rebirth in the XII century
You eventually find yourself in a bed in an anonymous room. The confusion is ebbing away but the primary realization is still rocking your mind: you have died somewhere, somehow and now the body you feel is but a reconstruction of the original. The mind that is you is not exactly you any longer. Youre now a replicant.
The reason of your death is still a mystery to you. You remember everything from your previous life but the cloning process is not 100% accurate, and you have lost the past month prior to your death. Your last memory is of a green lawn you were walking on your way to the office. You do not recall any danger around you at all.
You spend some time with police officers. It is a regular procedure when a clone awakes prior to the announcement of the persons death. Since they never heard of your demise, and you apparently had been missing for a few days, it may be you died in foul play. They take details, ask for last memories, that sort of things. You know one of them. He seems somewhat unable to hide a certain satisfaction, he never liked you much. Knowing you died somehow brightens up his day.
No one really likes your type. Re-birth by cloning is an extremely costly process, that is reserved only to the most prominent or indispensable servants of the State. You are not a prominent member of society, nor a billionaire able to afford the procedure. Youre nevertheless a valued asset to some prominent people. Your service record in the Security Agency has made you eligible to an undisclosed number of resurrections. The States will ask you to risk your life, but also wishes to control your death. Thats its prerogative.
You re left alone in the room. You stare for a minute at your hands, trying to overcome the nausea that comes with the knowledge that these hands have been alive for only a few days. You remember them touching the wheel of your car, or the body of your last lover. But you know that they in fact have never left this place. They are new to the world and so are you, with your thirty years of memories and your id card. Max Spencer is your name. Or his name, youre not too sure just now.
.
A few days pass before they let you go home. Of course you need to use a pass key to open the door, as the proper key has disappeared along with your previous self. This is not a problem to you, considering your line of work. Everything is exactly as you remember it. Here and there some details remind you of the missing month in your memory, though. The fridge is full, when you remember it empty on that last day, some magazines are showing a front page and a date that you are not aware youve ever experienced.
You go to your comp and start browsing. You start looking for the missing facts, the clues to your disappearance. Knowing your body has not been found is disturbing, but its also a strange comfort in a way. You are still the only Max Spencer in your world. For now.
Nothing shows up. A few emails tell you that you had a few conversations with friends and colleagues, but nothing out of the ordinary. No notes with suicidal intentions ( hell, you were perfectly together as you remember it), no threats, nothing.
As you closed the red files, the ones directly connected to your activity in the Agency, you sigh with disappointment. You were not currently on an assignment. The assignments are the main reason you have a resurrection account. But nothing shows up as being of a lethal or threatening nature. After all the last service action in the Middle East was a resounding personal success that landed you a well deserved vacation. Anyway, the debrief you had with the Agency before leaving the hospital had not revealed anything that could explain your disappearance.
The thought comes to you that maybe there is no foul play. Perhaps you died an ordinary death in a common situation. Maybe you went for a swim in the bay and drowned and sooner or later your body will surface along the coast. Maybe you died of a heart attack while driving and it may take some days before a trekker happens to find the wreckage at the bottom a one of the many ravines surrounding the city
You then check your Visio. A few calls. Friends. Family. And then you hit it. A vid attached to a call from your own mobile Visio. It seems to be from you . You stare in shock at the distressed face of man you do not know. The skin looks very red, and is covered in some transparent viscous liquid. The shirt the man is wearing is torn and covered in some goo. His hair seems half burnt, and you can even see patches where it is altogether missing. But mostly you stare at his eyes. They are filled with terror. The mouth is shouting something at the Visio which held at arms length. All around him some sort of reddish wall. It looks like
flesh, in the quick glow of the Visio night light. A blurry face is visible further behind the mans shoulder. The hologram last only three seconds , and is totally silent.
Shaken, you download the vid to your comp. You bring up the imaging program and start working on the various part of the pic. You launch the enhancer on the face behind the man. The bar on the screen starts its slow scrolling. You go to the kitchen and prepare a cup of coffee. You come back just in time to see the bar reaching the 100% mark. When the hot coffee splashes over your leg, you do not even flinch. The face behind the man shows all the traits of the most abject despair. It is your face.
.
It takes you two days to find the bar. Its a noisy smelly rowdy place downtown. The stroboscopic light is aggressive but is nothing in comparison to the music. You take your time sizing the room before sitting at a table close to the dance floor. Its rather early in the evening and the place is nearly empty.
You play with the little matchbox. Its not the name on the matchbox that brought you here. But the visio number penciled into it, under the matches. You do not smoke. He did not smoke. Thats why finding this box in the car was a surprise to you.
The police found the car is a rather elegant back alley of a rather classy district. When you arrived on the plot, two police were waiting there, quietly flashing their red and blue lights at the neighborhood. You inspected the car with them. No infraction, no sign of accident on the silently hovering machine. It was just innocuously parked there, thats why it took a few days for the police to spot it. The matchbox box was found in the glove compartment. The Visio number was in the box, under the matches. Once you had that clue, you took over the case from the police. You knew you could work it out on your own.
The Visio number belongs to a hooker. Lydia is her name. Shes also rather classy. And she recognized you. The look in her eyes when you called her up told you everything you needed to know. She had the look of someone who sees a ghost. That means she did expect you to be dead. When she hung up it was too late. The equipment had recorded everything about her from her entire life record to her DNA last known print. The Agency is full or useful resources. You called her back and after a few attempt she answered again. She knew there was no point running. She gave you the address of the bar. You are waiting for her.
You have used Agency software to decipher what you were trying to shout to yourself in the Visio holo. The image was poor quality. The words offered by the software were simple: Do not come here!!! you hear me, do not
You shudder at the thought. Come where? You need to find out. And obviously you need to be prepared.
Analysis of the pic by the software has revealed nothing of the nature of the surroundings. Although it looks organic, the place must be some sort of set (playhouse, fun fair, horror movie set?).
Shes a real looker. Tall, very tall (but you knew that from her file), with long blond hair. Shes 23 according to her record, and has been in business for more than 7 years. Her glare seems to tell you youre the first replicant shes ever seen. You are certain of it. She knows youre a replicant, she knows you died. She calls you by your name before sitting. You just nod. And land a card in front of her on the table. This card could mean the revocation of all her electronic rights and records. In todays world, this is worst than a death sentence. Shes turning white
You are as ready as you can ever be. The house is huge, as you approach across the vast. Behind you, the bodies of the two large dogs are lying under the bushes, not too far from the hole you cut through the security fence. Lydia was right about the security. Its pretty basic. You got to the right cables and do not expect much difficulty with the in-house alarm. On the first floor, a light is shining through heavy curtains. Good. You can use the company.
You work your way through the French windows. The Breaker on your arms has spotted the alarm box for the floor and de-activated it. You stealthily move through the darkened living room, reach the door. You open it. Outside is a long corridor. You can see a flight of stairs at the end. You start walking to it. You hear the whirring noise a little too late. A security drone. It should have been de-activated by the Breaker. As you swivel with all your enhanced speed, you shoot a web of carbon wires towards the floating orb. A blinding flash of blue light explodes from the orb. The carbon wires cuts across the little machine like hot knife in butter. The pieces fall to your feet. You let out a quiet sigh. You start walking across the long corridor to the stairs.
Its too long. The feeling is nauseating, every step you make , the end of the corridor seem to flee further. The perspective of the corridor is quickly changing, and you watch as the walls seem to get higher, the corridor wider. You pause and try to get your bearing. This is way out. You start running back to the living room, but the corridor is fighting you, gaining in length and width and height. You actually feel scared, the illusion is perfect, even though you this is probably a anotropic illusion from the security pod. You are running at full speed now. The base board along the wall is towering above you on your left. The corridor seems a kilometer long. You are confused. Even with your senses impaired, you should have reached the door to the living room, shattering in part the illusion. Your rush is curtailed by the lush carpeting, where your feet disappear entirely. Your heart is beating madly in your chest. Your hear a clap of thunder and stop suddenly, slowly turning back.
In the far distance where an enormous flight of stairs seem to ascend in to an impossible height, you hear regular thunder claps, and feel vibrations in your body. No illusion can do this, you think. Light explodes from a high up artificial sun on the ceiling; the corridor is flooded with it. Two huge shoes appear at the top of the stairs. Youre looking at them at they move down to the next steps. You realize the size of the enormous legs attached to them. You realize your own size. Youre no more than one and a half inch tall at best. And as the body of the woman appears in the stairs and you look in her eyes, you know this is no illusion any longer.
The woman is enormous in her proportions but shes also absolutely beautiful and you cannot ignore it. Shes Asian, very tall and lean, with this very pale skin you see sometimes in Chinese movies. Her hair is jet black flowing in her back ,and ebbing to and fro as she moves down the stairs. Her long legs are shining from a pure white netting that is attached at mid thigh. You know this because the very short mini skirt she wears is showing them to you. She wears a white light top with a generous breast line. Her face is now turning down towards you, full red lips contrasting with her pale skin and her dark eyes are looking at you. But her oval face is now way too high up and your main focus is now these huge red sandals coming closing with tremendous thuds.
It seems a million tons are falling each time on the floor. In a matter of seconds, toes painted red and three times your size are rushing in your direction. Above you no longer see the face but the huge pillars of her legs and the underside of the skirt. A last step and a massive sandal is falling slowing towards you as you start at last to run. Its shadow is now over you, along with the leathery smell of the shoe and the very human smell of her foot. Screaming and glancing up, you see the undersole of the sandal flying silently above you, ahead of you even and coming down . Your head is touched by a hard surface and you stumble forward, rolling on your back. All light is nearly gone now as you reach out with your arms just in time to feel the grainy surface of the black wall pressing on you, pushing your arms back. The sole now touches your body and all breathing is stopped instantly. You try to flail your legs and arms in total panic, the black surface inches from your head. You can just see the slit of light coming from the far side of the sole. As your lungs spasm from lack of air, you drift into unconsciousness..
Heat is bringing you back to consciousness. A searing heat that hurts your back and legs. You realize you can breathe but the hair is hot and humid. Youre covered in sweat. Everything is black. The heat is generated by the soft boulders you seem to be lying on. A sticky substance keeps you nearly glued to them as you try to get your bearing and rise up on your elbows. It seems to you youre in an oven and a moving train all at once. You can feel the motion and slight rocking movement of the floor. You look at your Breaker on your wrist, but no signal is coming, no light on the panel, as you desperately try to fumble the emergency code in the delicate keys. The motion persists around you, along with definite vibrations. Keep cool, you think, keep cool. This was an illusion. No such things as giant women. This may be one again. You switch the light on your head band. But your environment is confusing you even more now that you can see the white boulders around you, gently smoking as in a sauna, some intact, some half pulped. The beam of light draws a circle on a high ceiling, a dome of silvery metal.
Youre about to try and stand up now, when the surface youre on seems to drop in freefall and suddenly lands with a loud clang. The ceiling suddenly takes off in the air. Youre too stunned to move any longer, as the space around you rushes to assail your senses and the humongous shapes around start to come into focus. You watch incredulously at the ceiling rising high into the air, attached to a shape so vast it takes a second to realize it is a human arm. A womans arm. The huge woman is also Asian looking, but with short brown hair , shes dressed in some red tunic. Her face and chest are now rising higher in the sky, as she unfolds her body. Soon her face is hardly visible in the contorted perspective. In a movement too fast to be associate with such a volume, the woman turns round and walks towards the opening of a giant door. You look in her direction stupidly. You know you really saw her. You know youre really that small.
No sounds. No motion. Then your hear it. The breathing sound. High above you. You turn round slowly, knowing what it is. The huge shape of the woman of the stairs is next to you, so close it seems it is going to crush you again. Shes kneeling in front of you, totally motionless, like a giant Buddha, her eyes are fixed on you. You need to crane your head back to see those unblinking eyes. In front of you is the cliff of her chest, her huge breasts protruding from the cliff high above. Shes not wearing her top any longer. And the soft wall of her belly directly above you is only marred by a belly button you could lie into. The long white clad thighs are level with the wooden surface in front of you, and her miniskirt forms a plain of white leather. You stare back at the woman face. A slow smile is beginning to expand the red lips. As you look around quickly for your options, your mind reeling with questions, you realize what the objects around you really are. You are now standing on the top of a bowl of rice
. And one breath away from going mad.
Mr Spencer she whispers, and you feel a bass drum in your bowels. Im glad you to see us reunited. You wince at that sentence. Youve met her before. The girl in the bar had told you so much. She had told you that she had directed you / him to this place.
Im glad to see you seek my company again. I knew you would, sooner or later. The huge lips are hardly moving, as they pronounce the words. The huge and beautiful eyes are locked on you.
What is happening? Who are you? What did you do to me?! you scream at the top of your voice. You are frightened and confused. This should not be possible. No technology can do this.
Hush, little one, this is no longer important. You see, I have explained all this to you already. Your resurrection technology is still a mystery to us. As our size-shifter is probably to you. But I did discuss this at length with you. After all, it was our
pillow talk, my lover. This again makes you wince. The young woman is beautiful, and yes, you know you would have been tempted. Apparently you succeeded. Unlike you, it seems, I do not wish to repeat myself, she adds.
Suddenly, a huge pair of chopsticks flies above you head. The hand that holds it is large beyond description. In the slight movement, the woman has bent forward towards you and you find yourself covered by her shadow, as the wall of pink flesh looms closer. One of the chopsticks lands like a falling tree trunk into the bowl, a mere meter from you . You let out an involuntary shout and , losing balance , fall on you back in the gooey boulders. You feels the ground shaking as the chopsticks drive deeper into the bowl. The face of the young woman has come closer, and you see her white teeth beyond the slightly parted lips. The ground shakes more as the chopsticks glide upwards carrying a lump of rice grains. Under you, you feel a slight collapse , as you stare at the sudden excavation.
You look in utter amazement as the lump, which bigger than you, is plunging into the opening mouth of the young woman. Shes now straightening up and the shadow leaves you. You jump to your feet and scramble for the near side of the bowl, you legs getting caught in the hot gooey rice grains. As you come close to the side, a tree trunk suddenly appears on either side of you and you are caught in a terrible vice. You are lifted in the air, your arms struggling against the wood. You fall face first in the rice again. When you get up again, another excavation is being dug by the chopsticks. You are back at the center of the bowl.
The woman gulps down her mouthful of rice, helps herself of some other food in another bowl. Shes looking at you as she slowly chews. She dabs her lips with a white napkin the size of a large tent. Yes, Mr. Spencer, weve made love and it was so tender and nice. You have a way with women, havent you? And later , we had a few friends for dinner. I recall you did not seem to approve. But you were not in a position to refuse. Nor are you now.
She dips her chopsticks in a large bowl on the other side of the low tale. The rim is too high for you to see in it. Your heart jumps in your throat when you hear a scream coming from the bowl. When the chopsticks come out, a man is caught between them. You watch in horror as the struggling man is brought in front of the parting lips. The woman glances at you. You had about the same look on your face then. And she pushes the man delicately onto her tongue. The lips close around the wooden sticks, which come out empty. You cant help feeling the fascination as the young woman cranes her head back, and closes her eyes. A gulping sound and you see her throat marking the passing of the man. The huge face is looking at you again, For company, of course she whispers. You look at the huge belly above you and feel weird mixed feelings at the thought of the man struggling behind the soft pale skin.
There goes my assignment for the day she says, smiling. You, on the other hand, are here for my personal enjoyment. She has brought her head nearly on top of the bowl, so that her face is like a huge ceiling, and the vast curtain of her jet black hair form an arena of smooth silky threads. The hot breath from her mouth rivals with the heat from the rice under your feet.
Would you like to make love again, Mr. Spencer? The face lifts off in the air and is replaced by the sudden rush of the chopsticks around your body.
The crushing vice gain, you cry out in pain. The world is nothing but a soft landscape of skin scrolling in front of your eyes. You see the massive right breast of the young woman looming closer and closer. The tip of the chopsticks actually touches it now, just above the nipple and slowly sinks in the milky surface till yourself are now in contact with the warm skin. The wooden trunk gently part and you feel yourself sliding between them. With a shout you try and keep a grip on them, but now you are hanging to one of them, your feet touching the breast aureole under you. A sudden thud loosens your grip and you fall face first and arm extended on the rosy skin. You start sliding down slowly, in spite of your efforts to get a grip, but the skin is smooth and tight. Below you, the length of the belly is giving you vertigo. Your feet find purchase on something protruding. Something hard. In a second you find yourself astride a giant nipple. A loud giggle explodes above you and you see the giant smile and gleaming teeth of your tormentor.
The young woman resumes her meal, her large hand coming down and up past your tiny shape. Under you, you feel the regular breathing heaving the breast that supports you. The rhythmic low thudding of her heartbeat is sending mild vibrations in your improvised perch. Your mind is in complete turmoil. The constant heat from the vast body has you sweating in your dark outfit. You feel beaten and ridiculous. You reach for your gun, but the holster is empty. Not that it would have helped in anyway, you think. Above, chewing and gulping sounds alternate, as you watch the underside of the womans jaw chew away the morsels. Despite its proportion, her throat is tall and inviting, but your are more than aware of its function. You cant help thinking of the man you saw, now just a few meters away from you, in his fleshy prison. You need to do something. Your search your pockets.
A shadow, and two pink and ridged objects position themselves slowly on your right. Fingers. They press against you leg. You try to retract it away but a second after a bone shattering grip start peeling you off the surface of the breast. You give a yell as your head plunges downwards, towards the white surface of the miniskirt. You feel a sharp pain in your hip as it suddenly holds your weight. The oval face of the young Asian woman is slowly replacing the white skirt in your vision range. You keep going higher and higher, the long naked arm next to you acting to you like a large unfolding crane. The face has become a landscape over/ under your head. You see the perfect ridge of her slightly up-turned nose, the plumpness of her long and plush lips and the dark well of her eyes under well defined eyebrows. The face is beautiful , like a dream, the smile is just right, so inviting. You see in horror the squint in her eyes increasing as you now drop slowly towards the opening chasm of the mouth. The white teeth part, revealing a living twisting monster of red flesh that seems to be coming out of its lair. As the opening widens and gets closer, you scream obscenities to your tormentor, your mind blank with panic. Coming closer, a wet darkness is traversed by viscous filaments of saliva is now showing an even darker entrance guarded by a uvula half you size. You flail your arms uselessly, contemplating the convulsing wet and complex carpet of the tongue. When you touch it, the teeth are still a meter or so above and ahead of you. The large dark holes of the nostrils are blowing a hot stream of air on your wet body. The saliva instantly sticks s to your skin, spreading as your body is laid full on the curving tongue. It is warm and gooey and smelly. You see shreds of food stuck to the vast palate or between the massive molars.
The surface of the tongue is not pleasant, but bumpy and even rough, in spite of the coat of saliva already assailing you body. You feel behind you the curve of the tongue increasing , as it starts retracting in the giant mouth. As the massive and luscious lips are passing over your head, you straighten up desperately to catch the front of the large teeth. But as the tongue retracts, your legs are now carried under it and you fall on your back on the curved tip of the tongue. The slope increases, as you start sliding down, your head passing now behind the great teeth into the darker region of the mouth. You throw you feet on either side, till you find purchase on the edge of a tooth. But the increasing slope is now pushing the top of your body sideways. Under you the fleshy entrance seems to be palpitating with expectation, the uvula pulsing weirdly. You catch a last ray of light as the great lips come together with a light smacking sound.
In utter darkness, you feel pressed against the wet ceiling, your hands pushing desperately against it, sinking in the wet covering saliva. A large movement under your back and you feel dragged in a direction. You use an arm to try and free your airways, clogged by the saliva. You screams find no echo and seem to be as squashed as your are in the turbulent space. The tongue drops suddenly, some light comes flooding from behind you and you see the uvula just above your head and the entrance of the esophagus, beginning to open. Darkness returns and your body slides all the way into the tube. Your hands feels a wet oily surface passing by, you body is pressed on all side by the sliding walls. The heat is unbelievable. Like being in a hot cavern in some equatorial place. The thudding of the heart is now urgent and you feel the tube shaking from it. You touch a viscous membrane that seems to resist a second but opens with a squelching sound. You fall two or three meters in viscous sticky liquid..
You get up in the hot stingy darkness. The fumes make you cough, you legs are sinking in an unnamable mess of rice and sauce and acid. You re in shock. Youre going to die. Inside this womans stomach. This is just impossible. Youre going to wake up. Your hands goes instinctively to the pocket on your chest, removes the Visio. Imbecile! You should have used this earlier. You switch on your small torch light and explode in a raw shout of anger and fear as you discover the pulsing ruddy fleshy wall starting to contract. The churning last for a few seconds, then stop. You hear a loud heartbeat above you head, and loud gurgling noises below your feet. Spanning the light you see no trace of the man that was ingested before you. He must be under the chewed messy meal. Another bout of churning nearly drowns you in it. You surface and cough through the acidic air. You grab the Visio and compose your number. You look into the objective and shout : Don t try and find me! Keep away from h
. A loud cataract of water lands on your from the opened esophagus. You lose the visio in the rising waters. You begin to choke on the foul remaining air.
A voice comes from outside, muffled but clear to your ears: I look forward to our next dinner, Mr. Spencer. In the last minute your consciousness, you realize the huge mistake youve done and start frantically to search for the visio.
Conclusion:
You are sitting at the bar, sipping your favorite scotch. Youre in shock still. You just discovered on your Visio the vid of a man shouting for help. And this man was you. God, what happened to him,
you. The ugly picture of the panic stricken face is frozen in your mind. Your feel a hard cold anger in your stomach., as your hand turns into a fist. You squint at your glass. Im coming to get you, who ever you are, someone is gonna pay for this.
Giantess World
Author's Chapter Notes:
hope you like!