About Our Life as Giants

It is a strange way of life to live as a giant. That’s it in one sentence. And that’s why I wrote this up.

Of course I’m sure you know about us, me and my daughter. We were all over the news, though it’s gotten all quiet over the years. We got used to it. You got used to it. Nothing more to say about it. That’s what the papers think. Though I expect you to already know us I want to introduce myself to you. And my daughter of course.

I’m Jane Milwaukee. Yes. That’s my family name. Not the country. Thanks for the loughs, and our state is California. Gravesboro, CA it is exactly. Close to Fresno. Yosemite is at an arms length to the north and Kings Canyon to the south. Beautiful. Though we rarely visit, of course.

Back to my person. I’m getting closer to fourty. Do I have to tell? Never mind, thirty six, you know already, no way to hide it. My daughter says I look like twenty eight. I hope she’s right but then I got no one else to trust about this.

Mellie’s my daughter. She’s turned nineteen last month. I’m really proud of her. She took this much more easy than me. Well I guess that’s what you do when you’re younger.

We live like this for seven years now. Quite some time if you ask me. And there’s a lot of rumor about how we got to be giants. Nah, don’t expect me to tell a new story about it. Or maybe that’s what I am about to from your point of view. I was quite busy with myself back then so I never read the papers. They are too small to read anyway.

Back then, it was in 2009, it was all the usual treadmill of live going on. Me and Mellie struggling for survival. At least that has changed. It was in June. I was trying to earn a few extra dollars by cleaning up some stores in the evening. I wanted some money for Mellies birthday in July. So I was home late. Again. My Mellie was such a brave girl. In the kitchen she had some supper waiting for me. Nothing special but that was enough for me. I took a few bites then went up the stairs to look at her. She was still reading in bed. A girl book. Horses, girls, adventures, that kind of stuff. I was happy to see her reading instead of hanging out in front of the TV like other girls of her age.

And that about was it concerning the evening. I just got to bed and slept like switched off.

In the morning it was all like usual except for… well there was no water. No electricity either. I mumbled some curses and woke Mellie for school. Then I got into the kitchen and got her some bread ready.

‘Mom, I’m late already. Gotta run!’

‘Not without some breakfeast, young lady. Here, eat it on the way!’

And with that she was out. Bang!

I walked over to the door and got the paper. The girl had thrown it in after grabbing it from the porch. When I was half way back into the kitchen I heard her knock.

‘Mom?’ I heard her muffled voice and it alarmed me a little. Something was wrong. For a moment I had a vision of some workers with a caterpillar, a wrecking ball and a smart lawyer…

I got to the door and opened it a little. After all I was just wearing my bathrobe and… well nothing, you know. Looking out I saw Mellie with a worried expression.

‘What’s wrong?’, I asked.

‘You better come and see yourself, mom.’

‘Mellie, I’ wearing nothing but this bathrobe and even closed it’s showing too much leg, to…’

‘Mom, I think that won’t matter anymore.’

I looked at her and she looked… astonished. But not afraid.

I tightened the belt of the bathrobe, adjusted my breasts and finally opened the door. Mellie stepped aside and I… saw.

Well I saw nothing at first. I saw the usual landscape. The mountains. But… where was the Kingsriver?

‘Where’s the river?’, I murmured.

‘I think it’s replaced the road’, Mellie said.

‘Nonsense!’, I uttered, but walked towards the mailbox. Barefoot.

And that about tell’s the story. There in front of my house, just were the road had been, was the Kingsriver. Well it rather looked like the Elven King’s rivulet or something. Our lawn edged on the green riverbanks. The Green of gras blended with the green of trees. Only the height difference was missing and Mellie kept our lawn short.

‘I don’t think being late for school matters today, mom.’

‘No my dear. What on earth is this?’

As you can imagine we were just confronted with the facts. The paper was there and that was the last thing that got to us on our size – or on your size matter of factly.

I asked Mellie for her ruler and measured some tree, squatting right at the edge of my property. I took a large one. A big pine I guess. It was just an inch high. I got back into the house and got our encyclopedia. Pinetrees, they said, grew to about 25m or 80 foot. The one outside had been one inch high. That tree should’ve been  a thousand times taller. Yet it wasn’t.

Walking to the patio I looked across our backyard. It looked normal. Up to the fence. Behind that lay the Kings Canyon national park. At arm’s reach, like I told you.

Taking a map we found that our little property stretched from the Pine Flat Lake in the north to Dinuba in the soutwest – about half of it was left. To the east we found Badger and Pinehurst just behind our fence.

Miramonte, Auckland, Orange Cove… all those places were, well, replaced. Gone. I don’t know if it mattered, but if you have an old map at hand you might find out that right in the middle of that was a town.

‘Do you think this is of importance?’, Mellie asked me.

‘What?’

‘Squaw Valley’, she said and pointed at the map we had spread on the kitchen table.

‘I don’t know, girl. This is all too unbelievable.’

Since then we have to face the fact that the world outside is small. Or rather that we are big. Big at a scale of 1000:1. That makes me quite exactly one mile tall. I’m almost 5’3”. Mellie’s taller now.  She’s 5’11”.

I think its only natural for a mother to care for her child. And by care I mean simple things. Love. Water. Bread. And a bed to sleep in under a protective roof. The roof and bed thing seemed to be allright. Love as well. But the faucet was dry – no surprise. Bread… was an illusion beyond what little we had in the house.

‘Please, Mellie, get up into your room and read a book or two. I think I’ll have to check some things out…’

‘Mom? I’m not looking for trouble, but I’m old enough to see what’s going on. We don’t have any water and food as well as no clue how to get small again.’

‘Yes Mellie. Anyway, please go up into your room.’

And I tell you, the good girl shrugged, then smiled and went up the stairs…

I however went for the door – still barefeet I realised. Not what I wanted. So I got a pair of black flip flops from the shoe cabinet.

I got out through the front door and headed straight for the northern edge of the lawn. Pine Flat Lake was… well... It was a puddle. Err… I mean it still is.

At least it was a big puddle. Or rather a long one. And it had some inches in depth. I guessed there were a few gallons inside. Five to ten maybe. Maybe more. Giant or not, we humans are not too good guessing volumes.

The river left it as a trickle. But as sorry as it looked I knew that over a day it would deliver enough water. Would there be rain on our roof? I decided to remove the drainpipes and put some buckets underneath. Never waste valuable ressources.

So water looked… acceptible. Yes it was acceptible. But food? I looked down at the lake. The lake was full. But there were times when it was much shallower. I forgot about the dam. The damn dam. How lucky we were that it still existed. As I took a few steps along the edge of the lake I found it less than a foot from the edge of our lawn and the river was running into the lawn and swamping it somewhat. It made a squelching noise under my flip flop as I stepped into the puddle. Then I dug a little trench by dragging my foot until I could connect it to the other end of the riverbed. A little disgusted about my flip flops being all muddy I stepped out of the puddle that slowly drained into the riverbed.

The lake was full. Enough water. But I quietly remarked that maybe we’d have to make sure that nothing would get lost when the waterlevel fell. A fistfull of earth would solve the problem for sure.

Back to bread then. Food. Well. At our size! I looked down at the tiny world. With a little surprise I found that I stood right amidst the tiny world now. My careless step off the lawn and out of the puddle had brought me onto the other side of the riverbed. There was only a little mountain between my right foot and the western shore of the lake. I knew the place from the map. The side of the mountain that faced the lake was called Sunnyslope and covered with a number of houses. The better off had their weekend homes out there. Now it looked like they were cut off as the Sunyslope Road disappeared beneath my flip flop just below my pinky toe.

My feelings were hard to describe. I was… astonished. And I felt like saying ‘Oups! Sorry.’, which I didn’t, of course. The situation was just too unreal to make me feel guilty. Instead I remembered that there was also a road in the valley on the other side of the mountain. I don’t remember its name but pivoting my foot and raising my heel until the rubber foam sole raised from the ground I threw a glance at the footprint I created. It was… flat. Except for the tread of the sole that had been stamped into it.

I couldn’t see anything of either roads but the course of the bigger one was visible as it was somewhat dotted with brighter spots. There wasn’t much to think. That step had cost quite some people their houses. And many of them also their lives.

I admit that I realized that I had just squished many people. I imidiately knew that I had killed them. But at the same time I felt that I had just taken a step. Nothing special or rather something necessary. Those buildings and people were so tiny and distant that I couldn’t accept their peril as something bad. I had stepped there and they had just perished. Just like many an insect the many years before. Regardless if unnoticed or on purpose or maybe just because it was convenient to do so.

The food-question remained but looking across the plain at a tiny Fresno just 100 foot from the edge of our lawn I saw that walking outside would provide no solution. There was no food. Everything was too small. So I went back to the house.

Stepping onto the porch I noticed a little bit of smoke raising up.  A tiny fire was burning close to the door. I couldn’t tell what it was but I guessed that there had been something in my path. Some machinery. I had stepped on it and it had spilled fuel which was now burning.

Stepping on it again wasn’t sufficient to extinguish the flames. Stomping however did the trick. The tread underneath my flip-flop left the fire enough air. The blast of air when I stomped however blew it out. Looking at the little black spot revealed nothing however. But looking at the edge of the porch I figured that it sure had been some kind of aircraft. No kind of vehicle could’ve climbed the vertical cliff that was the edge of the porch.

I shrugged it off and got in leaving my filthy flip flops on the doormat. Then I went straight up the stairs.

‘Mellie?’

‘Mom? I saw you out there. Anything new?’

‘No, my dear. It just looks like we’ve grown or the world has shrunk. Whatever has been where our estate is now has vanished. Even part of the riverbed. The river spilled onto the lawn and I dug a trench to connect it to the rest of the riverbed.

Well. The good news is that there is water. The bad news is that there is no food and I can’t imagine to find anything in such a tiny world.’

‘I don’t feel hungry anyway, mom.’

‘Hush, don’t lie to me just because you want to make this look easier than it is.’

‘I’m really not hungry mom. But tell me more. How’s it like?’

‘What?’

‘How is it to go off the lawn. Into the tiny landscape. Tell me!’

‘Well’, I shrugged, ‘nothing special about it. Like walking in a sandbox or something. The mountains are soft. Maybe I stepped on some houses. But I couldn’t tell from my footprint.’

She looked at me and we both knew I lied.

‘OK, see I know I stepped on some houses. I didn’t look and if all this is reality I should’ve destroyed a lot of homes and surely I killed people doing so. It was not on purpose. Just taking a step as always. Like walking in the backyard. You don’t look out for an ant before you put your foot down.’

‘Ummm… cool.’

‘Well. I don’t know. I didn’t feel anything about it. But I’m not sure if you’re old enough for the experience. You might regret it later and be sorry for the rest of your life.’

‘You mean I’m grounded? You can’t do that! I did nothing wrong and I’ve the same right to go out there as you!’

‘Hush, my dear. Of course you’re not grounded. All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t leave our ground as long as it doesn’t seem absolutely necessary.’

‘That’s just the same.’

‘If it’s just the same then I want you to think about all the little people. If you go out there you will kill. You may not notice but you will know about it anyway. You will kill people. Innocent people. Men, women, children along with their pets.

No! Don’t answer me now. You’re not grounded but I wish that you think about all of this for half an hour and then answer me how you feel about it.’

She let out a sigh and flopped down on her bed while I left.

The experience on the porch made me think.  I was very sure that there had been an aircraft. It had landed close to our door. Why?

The answer was clear. All of this was not an illusion. A strange dream or something. It was real. And in the real world the government wouldn’t accept acres of land to vanish under a giant house. They would try to gather information and this task would be passed on to the military.

I bolted up and shot into the kitchen where I closed the window. Then I went up and did the same in my bedroom. Telling Mellie to close her’s too, she was all cool.

‘It’s already closed, mum. Didn’t want to have an airplane inside and tiny people spying on me in my room.’

The girl’s clever, I thought.

After some thoughts I returned to the kitchen where I closed the vent of the exhaust hood. Then I went to the bathroom and shut the air vent there, too. Finally I had to close the flap inside the chimney.

The house wasn’t bottle tight, I knew that. But it was at least secured in a way that made it difficult to enter.

However, minutes later they teached me a lesson about the word difficult.

I had just reclined on the sofa, trying to think through things. Of course if all of this was real the government would do something. They had seen us both outside and I had left the property. If they had any doubt about it I had put some things straight stepping outside and crushing a number of houses. I was real, I could leave the place and I was careless. I was a threat. And Mellie was a threat, too.

At that moment I heard her coming down the stairs. I stayed on the sofa. She walked up from behind and without looking at me or me looking at her she started to tell her decision.

‘Mom? I’ve thought this through. I took a look at the landscape outside with my binocular and it looks very real. Vehicles are moving and I believe I saw people.

If I woke up to see a giant on the horizon I would be afraid. They sure are afraid, especially after what you just did outside. So they will see us as a threat. They will try to fight us.

And if they fight us I don’t see why I should have any care for them.’

I sighed.

‘Well, girl, I don’t see that they are fighting yet. But maybe you’re right. And that was quite some monologue. But if you feel that way I think it will be okay.’

‘Mom, I know that we are about a mile tall now. But the world is still so much larger than that and it would take a lifetime to defeat the humans everywhere on this planet. So I think it’s better to mostly ignore them on our part.’

‘Maybe you’re right. At least I think that’s how you should deal with the situation until we find out more.’

‘Uh, Mom, maybe that will be very soon. I think I heard something…’, Mellie said and left.

I got up and followed her to the front door and indeed I heard something. A soft whine that was getting softer by the moment.

Looking for the source I followed Mellie’s gaze. She looked at something on the floor in front of the door.

The thing was about fly sized and that was a nice description of its capabilities. As I squatted down in front of it I could clearly recognize it as a tiny helicopter. Camouflage painting which was pretty useless on the white tiles. The military had arrived and they’d just flown through the gap underneath the door.

‘Hi. We expected you to come. But nonetheless you’ve entered private property. You have five minutes to explain yourself in an audible or visible way before you will be repelled.’

That said Mellie came closer and unceremoneously plopped down on her butt next to me.

‘They’re getting out, mom’, she mentioned.

As a matter of fact we could see tiny humans leaving the machine. Of course we just knew they were human. We couldn’t really tell. They were just too small. All we saw were some moving dots. We could see that they were walking upright and that about was it from a sitting or squatting position.

‘I think they’re waving at us, mom.’

‘You’ve got sharper eyes than me, kid. I couldn’t tell.’

‘Yes they are waving their arms as if they want to get noticed. But they should already have realized that we noticed them. Oups. Haha. Now they are holding their ears...’

Mellie let out a chuckle and I was grinning, too. However our uninvited guests made no progress nor could we notice an effort.

‘Mellie, maybe you should take a tour around the house. This could be just camouflage. It’s a little too obvious.’

Mellie left without a word. The men – I suppose it were men – below me started to spread around the helicopter. But they were clearly not working on a device like stadium speakers or something. I waited a few seconds to see if they would arrange themselves in a pattern. A letter or something.  But they just moved rather erratic. So I decided to put things straight. I smiled at them. Then I reached down and pointed my forefinger at one who had moved quite a distance from the machine. And with a smile I pressed my finger on him, smearing him across the white tile. He left a red smear and his comrades in panic. They started to run but if I had expected them to return to the helicopter and flee I was wrong. They spread in every direction, as fast as they could.

Well. A well trained man can run as fast as 20 mph. About 15 mph over longer distances. But on our scale this was reduced to a poor 100 or respecitve 80 fph. I mean foot per hour. And that’s about a quarter inch per second. So maybe I looked a little unconcerned as I lazily got up and stepped on them. My foot covered them easily and I only felt something soft giving in to my weight as I crushed the helicopter. It felt like stepping on a dust bunny. One lucky surviver scurried out from under the arch of my foot. As I lifted my heel from the floor and dragged my foot across the tile to get him his comrades left more red smears just before the last survivor was run over by the ball of my foot. Somehow he managed to burst into a red spray but that was as well run over by my foot and the smear he left was just like the others.

‘Mellie? I’m sure they wanted to trick us. Be on your toes.’

With that I got into the living room. I felt that the hatch inside the chimney was the weakest point. And I was right. I just stepped up to the fireplace when a buzzing helicopter lowered from the chimney.

I just loughed and with a flick of my finger I turned it into a little fireball.

‘Got’em, girl. I think it’s done for now.’

Well, of course it was and if you know more about our true story you know that we repayed a visit. But before I come to that I would like to tell you some more about how we live now. After all the world is much more peaceful now.

*

Mellie is still living together with me. When she was a child I hoped she would do so until she could master her own live. Work, boyfriend, marriage, children – the old story. That’s how you do it. You. Not us.

We, of course, only have this one house. Most of the things inside can not be reproduced. Mellie and I never talked about it. We both know it’s the only acceptible way. And of course we have no one else to really talk to.

She’s grown up now. A young lady. Lucky for her she can wear most of my shoes. She’s bigger than me. We don’t have any suitable clothes. But a few bikinis and some underwear either stretch enough or fit barely and the weather we have makes me hang out just like her in rather skimpy outfits. We don’t have much to do so why not tan on the patio? Who would keep us from going topless?

I allowed her since she turned sixteen. Back then I simply had to give up on trying to adapt some of her old clothing to her growing body. She was old enough anyway. Very mature both bodily and in manners. And as she really didn’t have to fear rapists or other immoral acts I let her make her own decisions and she’s grateful for it.

Our daily routine is quite simple. We usually get up when the sun does. Life goes like this without electricity and the need to burn acres of forest to read for an hour in the dimly lit bedroom. First we will wash ourselves. If we have enough water, that is. Sometimes there’s only enough for one of us. So the other one only gets a handful to straighten her hair and wipe her eyes. Sometimes I feel a bit lazy about it and leave the water to Mellie, even if it was my turn.

Then we have breakfeast. That means a can of water and some talking. We always find something to talk about. You humans are a busy kind and we can amuse ourselfs hours a day talking about your stupidities. On Sundays we have tea. We set up the can in the evening. Mellie built a giant solar heater with some of our aluminium foil. We try to sleep a bit longer and meanwhile the sun does its work to boil our water. Sometimes I’d like to press more tea out of you people but then I know that it would be beyond your capacity. Just like coffee. You could produce maybe ten cups a year. But if I took them I’d have one cup every two months. So I rather try to forget coffee and stay with tea.

After that we decide what to do. Most of the time we will enjoy the sun in our backyard. Tan on the patio or sounter around in the garden. Sometimes we decide to go out together or sometimes only one of us visits you tinies. There isn’t much housework to be done.

In the afternoon Mellie’s hanging out with her books. School books, that is. My old ones and some left behind by her dad. She says she might be a giant but she wouldn’t want to be a dumb one. I’m glad she’s got some occupation and I think a lot of humans are, too.

For my part I like to go through old pictures. Sometimes I miss the tiny world. Above all the mountains. All we have are foot hills. Okay, these are mountains and they look nice, but still they’re just not very impressive to one of us. Can’t help it.

At least we can swim in the ocean. We usualy visit Monterey Bay. You don’t have to wade far there until it gets deep enough to swim and Sunset State Beach is a nice place to sit. Watsonville however got less attractive over the years. Its rather trampled by now. But surprise, surprise, whenever we turn up there we always find someone who just couldn’t part with the city, the beach or both.

We tend to leave Kings Canyon or Yosemite alone. We don’t want to disturb nature. Sometimes we get close and have a look. We watch over them to keep humans from going there. Once Mellie found a new settlement. All it took was a step or two.

In the evening we’ll take precautions for the next day. We get the water, we set up the tea can, like I already told you. That kind of stuff.

When the sun settles we’re ready for bed. We kiss good night and go into our rooms.

So that’s an overview of our daily routine. Besides that there are many other things wich happen regularly.

The most common thing are tiny visitors. I don’t know, what they want from us. Sometimes I think they are just some kind of fans. Or freaks. Maybe also paparazi or just peeping toms. Usually we don’t feel like hunting them. If I see one, of course, I might just feel like moving a toe or take a sidestep to finish him or rather it. To us it’s a tiny or a shrinkee, no matter if man or woman. Mostly. Sometimes when its lucky I’m just unwilling to move a muscle just to produce another red smear.

Many of them however end up unnoticed. Whenever we move around the house we rarely have an eye for the floor and they don’t have a clue that its quite a dare to run about in the open. Whenever I go into the kitchen or somewhere else I tend to find some red splotches when I return. Or if I’m returning to the patio and stretch on my towel Mellie anounces the latest count of smears on the soles of my barefeet. Some even reach our towels. These are really freaks of nature! What kind of peeping tom would risk to be flattened under my ass just to have a close look at me? They’re rare compared to the ones ending underfoot but there’s rarely a day on the patio without a squished body somwhere on mine.

Many more have to be out in our backyard or in the lawn in front of the house. But they usually disappear without a trace as their remains are just wiped of by the soft earth and the grass. I know there are a lot of them there since Mellie often walks out with her magnifier as a passtime. She has her own ways with them. Maybe I’ll tell you later.

Of course there are also some other things we do during the day. I talked with Mellie about writing it up but she thinks its just a normal thing and as I write up things we suppose everyone already knows why shouldn’t I write up the things everyone would know even if he never saw us?

As you may have noticed I didn’t talk about food. You may also have noticed that you have food. You wouldn’t have if we needed food. But we don’t. Be thankful about it. However we like to drink water and concerning this our body just works normally. So we drink it – and we have to bring it away.

Now, as we have no water in the house we also lost the drainage. I don’t know if the nearby towns are glad about it or not. However, the decision had to be made on the second day of our existence as giants. And we decided to take it all the natural way.

The natural drainage for our area is the Kings River. So we just needed a landmark close to the river and a little distance from our house.  Our decision fell on Sanger. The town is some 30 foot from the former roadside of our property and the Kings River flows next to it between the city and our property. When we choose the place we were still considerate and chose this place in favour of Reedley which was a little farther from the house but on this side of the river so we would have crossed it on our daily path.

Sanger however rarely suffered a foot landing in its outskirts when one of us squatted over the riverbed.

So this is the place were we take a pee, day by day. It’s just natural. Tell me you wouldn’t if you’d have to live without a toilet.

Of course it’s quite an event to release about five hundred thousand tons of pee in about half a minute. Mellie was the first of us to use the place and when I got there later the day I found she had created quite a lake. Back then I felt somehow displeased to reuse the same spot she had used. So I moved a little up before I squatted down. And of course I caused the same change to the landscape. My pee rushed out and washed away the soft earth. As I had squatted a little to the north I saw some splashes hitting Sanger and of course my pee went over the riverbed and flooded parts of the city. I guess that’s why its less populated today. The daily flooding of the city made some parts uninhabitable and the whole city must smell like a toilet. On the other hand we never step into the city, except for the outskirts on the riverside but these are also often flooded. Over the years we have created quite a big lake there. But as we agreed to use the same position we did it a little to the southwest of Sanger. The city still gets flooded as the amount we release tends to send a wave even up the river but at least the city is not threatened to sink into the lake like so much country on its edges already has.

During our first days we thought our pee wouldn’t make much of an impact. As I stated we were considerate then. We thought that we would only release into the river what we had drunk from it before. But of course it does make a difference if the amount for a day is released within just half a minute. At least twice each day our pee flood raced down the river all along to Pittsburgh where it gushed into Saisun bay. I’ve heard rumors about even San Franzisco bay smelling like pee.

Maybe you think its inconsiderate that we still use the river as a toilet. But I tell you that it is only natural. Inconsiderate or not. We have to pee and we have to do it somewhere. So people complain about our pee flooding their cities and leaving stinking mud behind. I say if we didn’t chose a river we’d have chosen Sanger for the first day, Reedly the second and maybe Fresno the third! Would they be more content about it? I think you’re all lucky that we made this agreement when we were still considerate and never felt like changing it. And I swear it’d be quite a passtime to take on a bet who could piss the most acres of Fresno clean of any buildings.

Well, enough of this. Just be glad we never felt the need to eat or we’d have a discussion on a different scale here.

Most of the time Mellie and I are having a good time. However, we may be giants but we can’t deny our human roots and feelings. And that means that there are times when we are especially happy. There are days when we are naughty and days when we are in a tender mood.

For example whenever we feel like it we go for a walk. Then we’re out to see something different. A woman can’t look at the same walls everyday. So we dress up and go out. We were even tempted to use the car but then decided we’d better leave it alone. Who knows, what for.

Usually we walk out until we find a city for a ramble. Of course even a big city doesn’t have too much of space for a rample. Fresno with its four by six miles covers an area as big as my bedroom. So we mostly enjoy the walk there and then the walk in there.

Two mile high women visiting a city is of course a major event for the population. Everyone is on his feet and sometimes I think they are trying to do what’s happening to us naturally. They are trying to get people underfoot. We can see them clog up the streets, fighting to get on top of everyone else. When we happen to lower our faces close to the ground we see how they trample each other. I must say I like to demonstrate to them that they won’t get on top at all. Of course I don’t feel anything when I squash them by the thousands under my shoes. Alright, the houses give a little crunch. Maybe I could feel cars if I was barefoot but usually I’m wearing hiheeled sandals for a walk. Like I said, we dress up.

Mellie is a little more relaxed about her outfit. She might wear a bikini but most of the time she goes in the buff. Yes she’s naked except for some footwear. She especially likes a pair of platform flip-flops but she might as well decide for some hiheeled strappy mules. As Mellie shows rather much skin she also enjoys other kinds of play. She enters the city from the opposite site and we drive two mobs against each other. We both like the art of chase. Moving slowly we take care to squish the stragglers. Like natural selection we dispose off the weak and crippled. And the buildings for the fun of it. We simply can’t avoid them.

My feet were a size 9 and my sandals have a width of 300 foot. Each shoe is over 700 foot long. But as these are strappy sandals my feet are even bigger than that. When the ball of my foot splays under my weight it’s easily 330 foot wide. The streets are way to narrow for my foot to fit in. Big avenues are sometimes wide enough to hold my big toe. But of course I don’t care and my foot just swipes through buildings as I follow the road doing a slow catwalk. Sometimes I can crush two streets along with their buildings under the width of my sandals.

The heel would be 340 foot high but most of the time it happends to stab through the tarmac and deep into the ground below. I prefer thin heels. The tips measure only fifteen by fifteen feet. There aren’t many skyscrapers that top the height of my heels. Sometimes I just poke my heel into one of them. It looks nice when it’s impaled on my heel. Most of them quickly loose their integrity and slide down my heel again until they are piled up debris around its base. Others are more stable and I can watch them burst when I press my heel down into the bedrock. As more and more of my heel is pressed into the skyscraper the widening shaft displaces more and more of the interior of the skyscraper before the building simply tears apart and rains down as debris.

Mellie however does an incomplicated job about this. She just squashes and squishes with her flip-flops. Buildings, people, everything is stepped on. She doesn’t kick her feet through buildings. Instead she takes her time and steps on everything until her path is clear for her to step forward.

When the panic-stricken mobs we drive in front of us finally collide Mellie likes to lay down, usually on her belly. She’s always aiming for some nice buildings to be buried beneath her tits and with her being simply stacked its usually a flock of buildings wich faces its doom underneath her overwhelming breasts. We both enjoy their crunch until she has her face right in front of the mob. That’s the final moment. I step right into the mob where the tinies are thickest. Of course they are all just about 1/14th inch tall, but the thick carpet of humanity with their arms raised is enough to be felt.

Usually we have a mob of one hundred thousand. Sometimes more depending on the size of the city. Once we had them all gathered on a big plaza and Mellie had the show of her life. I put my foot down on thousands. Far more than ten thousand. I believe there where fifty thousands shoved together by the impact of the mob and their trampling each other. We could hear them cry in unison as they found themselves unable to move with my foot coming down on them. When I do this I drop my heel into the thinner part of the crowd, usually squishing more than a handful of tinies with it. Then I put my foot down. Slowly but not too slow. I step on them. It’s not to describe in words. I feel their resistance, their desperate struggle for survival. Yet they are too weak. Much to weak. They cannot resist me, cannot take my weight. And then  for less than half a second there’s that slippery feeling. They squish. All together. Thousands have their bodies compressed, splatter and die and I feel my shoe sliding slightly forward only to annihilate a few hundred more. And then the thin layer of bloody goo squirts out from underneath my shoe as it settles into the tarmac, depressing the road, flattening any cavity below, be it the sewers or a whole subway tunnel. The lucky ones are just washed away by the pulp of the squished ones and finally my foot comes to rest surrounded by a red belt of blood and the receding mob. But I have another foot for them.

Usually I take three steps. Then I’m pleased and leave the rest for Mellie. She’s good for the cleanup. Her huge size 12 flip-flops take care of all the rest. If she stepped into a thick mob I bet more than one hundred thousand of them would perish beneath that footwear. Maybe we’ll try that next time.

Usually we leave it with that. Of course on our way out we go like cross city, crushing our path through more buildings and preferredly through some suburbs. Those tiny houses perish just too easily to not enjoy how utterly flattened we leave a whole neighbourhood with just one crunchy step.

They way home is mostly a lazy saunter. We both enjoy this when the time is right. But of course we can’t afford that too often. After all you tinies shall have time to rebreed and rebuild those cities.

On other days there are other moods. Sometimes Mellie walks alone. Sometimes I do. Mellie goes out alone whenever she feels naughty. She will walk for a distance until she’s far enough from the house to feel undisturbed. Of course whatever happens to be in her path is affected by her playful mood. Of course humans would rather call her cruel than playful. After all whatever catches her attention is likely to be flattened under her barefoot. Yes, she goes completely naked on these occasions. I think she does because she wants to feel the things she’s playing with.

We got used to the fact that things we’re playing with will just break almost immidiately. So Mellie doesn’t take too much time with anything she finds on the way. Whatever she notices is quickly finished off with a soft tap of her foot or ploughed under by a drag of her big toe.

When she finally finds an interesting village she will get down close to it. Of course she’s not too accurate about that action and obliterating the outer parts under her young ass is a common occurence.

Living out her naughty mood she takes her time to play with the city and the unlucky humans living there.

Of course the games she plays are always the same but while they would soon be boring on a toy city in a model train set they are really different being played in the real world. It’s the human factor that makes this so interesting. They all act a little different. Individuals. It’s not a plastic figure produced in a series of thousands. It’s a unique little person with a history and relatives that’s just running from its little family home while its crushed into the ground by a giant fingertip. It’s the thrill to decide if to do it fast and squish the tiny thing along with its house or to let it escape barely so it can see what you did to its property and maybe the rest of its family inside. They react so different. Some stand just dumbstruck. Others try to kill themselves. The ones who try to attack her are not as rare as you might think. With their bare fists they bang the thick skin of her finger or they even start for the long run to reach her body to make Mellie feel their tiny wrath.

Mellie says she likes to spare the ones running for her body. Ignoring them is the easiest way to let them feel how insignificant they are. A little squish is best to deal with the other types of survivors.

Crushing a mall is a different experience. You put your finger down on the roof and push down rather quickly. Of course your finger will be smeared with food and squashed people but nine out of ten buildings won’t collapse. Instead you poked a hole into the roof and paniced the people hiding inside. Then a swarm of people leaves the building and they spill across the parking lot. They try to drive off all at once and create a nice ball of wreckage all by themselves before the remainder tries to flee afoot. And that’s when you just squash the whole parking lot under a big thumb maybe leaving one or two quick ones to tell the story or end up squished unnoticedly when you move on.

Mellie can spent a whole afternoon with games like that. She never kills too many, though. When she returns she’s all happy again with her naughty mood gone.

I for my part seem to be rather calm when compaired to my daughter. Though I tend to play more cruel when I decide to go out alone. I’ll always wear something naughty. Sexy underwear, nylons and maybe boots or platform heels. I like to lurk around a village or settlement. Walking around the place I watch my footfalls causing destruction. The tremors topple the weaker structures. Garden sheds. Old houses. But soon enough even the sturdiest building will give up.

Whenever an inhabited structure gives up I watch them run. Sometimes they are a bit late and only a few escape from the debris. They try to get into another house but no one will let them in. Who’s actually the cruel one in this play? When they finally give up trying some of them try to hide in the village. Others try to flee. By that time I’ve usually trampled a nice path around their village. A valley to them. Death valley to be exact. I just love that part of the game. I will just continue walking around. Of course I watch them from above. Most of them can be tracked easily on the bare ground. But I won’t break my stride in any case. My feet won’t deviate from their course and so it might take some time until the escapees finally find their place under one of my feet. I use to make a bet with myself about how many rounds they will survive. The flock of houses that is the usual kind of village around here would fit on the seat of a chair in my kitchen. The larger ones take up as much space as my kitchen table. So it’s only a few steps around and as I walk in a small circle I won’t take too long strides. So there’s about a thirty percent chance for them to get underfoot on each round. And then there’s about a fifty percent chance for them to end up under the arch of the shoe or to squish under the sole. And then there’s the rare occasion when someone indeed ends up under the stiletto heel. Well… I admit it might happen more often than could be expected by statistics. They burst into a beautiful red star while their dry skin is hammered down into the bedrock under my stiletto heel.

So all in all they got an eighty five percent chance to survive the first round. Seventy two percent on the second and sixty one percent on my third pass. Like I already told you they have quite a path to cross. About one hundred yards.

Of course you might say that a sprinter would make it within just ten seconds but that’s just about the time I need for three turns around the village. And these people are no sprinters. Mostly. And they find obstacles. Each of my steps leaves a triangular imprint from the sole of my footwear and a small, round crater from my thin heel. When you’re trying too flee the six foot high rim of a footprint is an annoying obstacle. Some really try to climb it but this always takes much too long. The clever ones try to find a path across the valley without having to climb. They have to zig-zag across the different and overlapping prints. Their next problem is that every one of my passes is likely to press a new footprint with another impassable edge right across their path. So I’m likely to pass them twenty times or I’d rather say that the very few who survive 20 passes have a less than five percent chance of survival. One out of twenty makes it to the other side. Sometimes even I feel sorry when one of those dies at the very edge of my sole with survival at arms reach. Once I even happened to squish just the legs of one and he remained struggling and bleeding at the edge of my path. I really felt sorry about him and on the next pass I eased his pain with a quick stab of my heel.

Whenever the last structure has fallen I end the game. Turns out most survivors live because they choose or where forced to stay under the debris.

Of course you might say we take a lot of lifes. I agree. Mellie and I often talk about human ressources. There’s quite a lot of you around, you know, but over the first year we noticed the reduced population. It was not that finding people would’ve become difficult. It was just the number of houses we found uninhabited on our hunting tours. The cities however were still quivering with life. Even those we already hit. I know when we were humans like you we believed in the word of thunder and lightning to never strike twice. Well, Mellie and Jane do and you’re welcome to find out!

Now, I don’t see why I should make a secret of it. We decided that once the population or the reconstruction of cities couldn’t keep up with our needs we would take longer tours to other parts of the country. After all we never got out of California except for a few steps into Nevada. Distance is nothing that matters. What’s a thousand miles to us? Just one mile to walk. You can do so, even wearing heels.

Did I mention our hunting tours?  I did, didn’t I? But of course you have only a vague idea what it means. OK, you’re right. Death is a part of it. But not the main part.

I can’t say we’d do it on a regular basis. We do it rather when we feel like it. I know when Mellie is about to go and she knows when I am about to. She says it’s in my eyes. I see it in her movements. She’s getting kind of rash with everything she does.

So what we do is take a box or sometimes two from our supply of tupper ware and go out to hunt. Our prey is anything that moves. We like to bring a pair of tweezers and Mellie also likes to use a tooth pick. The last piece of equipment is some rubber foam. Then we tend to visit one of the usual places. It’s important for our success to be completely at random about choosing one. So you won’t just stop to use these paces.

I like to go to an airport. There are always a few planes on the field that can be picked up. A plane is a delicate thing.  It’s up to three inches long and little more than two inches wide. The thin fuselage is the most delicate thing. It’s a quarter inch in diameter. Maybe one third of an inch. I use the tweezers by shoving it under the main and the rear wings. Then I lift the plane off the concrete and set it down in the rubber foam. It usually survives except for a few dents. I don’t care for the ones at the terminal because people use the boarding tunnels to leave when I’m getting close. I don’t want an empty plane.

Mellie is quite skilled with trains. A passenger car is just a little bit over an inch long but only a quarter inch high and less than an eighth inch wide. That’s really delicate. Mellie derails the engine with the tweezers and pulls the whole train onto her ruler. Then she deposits it in a tupper box. I really love it when she offers me a train. That’s something different.

The common stuff we collect are just vehicles. Busses, cars. That kind of stuff. Sometimes a truck but that’s too much of an effort for the gain of just one man. Caravans are funny, though.

We tried to get houses but they all collapsed when we tried to pick them up in any way.

And I love tanks. They feel interesting and are good for some tricks.

When Mellie sees one she also gets passenger ships. Sometimes these are really huge. Well for a tiny thing. They’re usually around eight inches long and one inch wide. Impressive for something you tinies made. Smaller ones are more frequent. Two inches to three inches long and half an inch wide. Thumb sized to us. We get a lot of these.

When my box is full I return home. I like to go onto the patio. Mellie sometimes prefers her room or even the tub – god knows what she does in the tub. But if we have enough we often share the experience on the patio.

I know that you tiny people are quite conservative. At least you were when I was one of you. But Mellie and me, we are different. We’ve grown over that. Not that it mattered. You’re insignificant. Be as prudish as you want,  you can’t do anything about it. Come over here and lift my pinky toe, or just my toenail clippings. Then we’ll see of what consequence you are!

Well, when we return from hunting we’re looking forward to our tender hours.

Of course you ask why we use things you built as toys and why we take you tinies. I guess that you are quite upset about it. Well, we are big women. And like I told you our feelings still come from our human roots. So what can you do if you’re all woman but can’t find a man?

I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you in detail. I don’t care about your moral issues. You already know that. And I’m starting with toys. Of course I have toys. I always had. When I was tiny like you I wouldn’t admit it. But I have them and before I had my toys I found things to use as toys. There was that teddy bear I still took to bed when I was sixteen. And there were many other things. When we grew I had four or five professional toys. Expensive ones. I loved them and I still do. But back then there always was the occasion to find a nice guy and simply get screwed. After I grew I found that impossible. So I used my toys but after some time this wasn’t sufficient.

I needed a man. And maybe you didn’t know but I took one. He was one of the first to get into our house and upstairs into my bedroom. I knew he was one brave peeping tom and I felt like giving him more than just a view. Unsatisfied and eager as I was I cut short on foreplay. I saw him from the corner of my eye and I started a short strip wich nailed him to the floor.  As I remember I just took off my skirt and my shirt, then bra and panties. Till with my pumps on I took the two or three steps towards him and sat down right in front of him. I mean I took him between my legs and had my pussy looming over him like a cliff. While he was shocked or maybe even in awe my finger closed in from behind. I knocked him off his feet and into my upturned fingernail. Impatiently I lifted him up to dump him onto my clit after laying back and spreading my pussy with my free hand.

Well. I felt him there. And that was all. I was so horny and he was just like a breadcrumb inside my sex. Desperately I bucked my hips under him to make him sqirm or something but now I believe he was already doing so or otherwise I might’ve felt next to nothing from him. In despair I released my pussylips. I don’t know what I thought. Maybe I wanted to put more sensous flesh around him or maybe I was already weary off him being useless. The end of the story is that I felt him dissolve in the hug of my pussylips. Of course he just squished when my nether lips closed over him.

After that I did like many a great woman before. When one man just isn’t enough, try to have some more. That way I got into collecting people. Intruders. Whenever I found one I took a piece of paper and swept him off his legs and onto the sheet. Then he or maybe also some shes got dumped into a plastic box. I fed them and kept them warm. After about a month I felt I had enough for another try. They were about two dozen people. Almost one a day.

The result was interesting. Some kind of no motion sex. I felt them and they worked nice but it was as if you were caressed by a warm fog or something. Nothing filled me and nothing moved. I had feared that and was ready for it. My biggest vibrator quickly did the job but of course my tinier toys didn’t last up to that point. They just got squashed in a flash when that thing entered me. Maybe some got dragged in but I’m sure the first welcoming clench of my pussy turned them into paste. I never saw any survivors.

That kind of play was much better. I had my men and I had my pleasure. The only problem was that I longed for more. There just weren’t enough intruders.

The day I realized that there wasn’t enough supply of peeping toms I was in a quarrel with myself. I was walking here and there. Looking out of the window, getting up, going down again, back into the kitchen and – crunch!

That moment was an revelation of truth. Stepping back I saw the remains of what had produced the crunch underneath my flip flop. It was a plane. Judged by its color it was military. And it was surrounded by a red splotch.

I’m sure you got the idea. A plane. A passenger plane filled with dozens of your kind. The ideal target. I just had to get out and take a plane. Of course I couldn’t just pluck it from the sky. I had to snatch it when it was on the ground. Instantly I walked to the door all in my flipflops and house dress. I don’t know where I went. It was just one of the cities out there. A passenger plane was easy to find. It was just transferring from the runway to the terminal. And it never arrived. I grabbed it and headed back.

Up in my bedroom I had the best orgasm since our growth. It wasn’t just the splendid amount of people. It was also the wickedness with wich I stole them from their world. I stole their lifes and ended them in a joyful way. I cracked the plane open in the middle and peppered my pussy with tiny people. And you couldn’t do anything about it. Doing so was just another way to express my need and my disdain to you.

That way I got pleased for the moment but after a few months it turned out that I felt only somewhat pleased. Something important was still missing. So I found myself getting ready for another planeload of people when I felt spiritless about doing it with them.

Sluggishly I slid the nose of the plane along my outer lips. Prying my cunt open buckled the hull and I saw the canopy crumple before I got myself open. Mesmerized I kept shoving it in but did it with care. I felt the fuselage give slightly. The thing was smooth and soft. Up to the wings that is. Fiddling with the plane to get it in I watched in amusement as the wings were crumpled then folded back and squeezed into the fuselage. Their folds and crinkles added a nice feeling and I couldn’t help but tried to intensify it with a squeeze of my vaginal muscles.

The result was a lascivious crunch inside of my pussy. I had simply flattened what had been inside of my love tunnel. Fuselage, wings and people. The latter was easily proved when I drew out the squashed remains. Red pulp had come out of the windows and mingled with my juices.

The view made me shiver with lust and wickedly I shoved the rest of the plane into me with a quick motion. Then I was able to resist the temptation for maybe ten seconds before I once again clenched my pussy squashing what was left of them and the plane in a shuddering orgasm.

Since then I toy with all the things your civilization offers to me. And Mellie did long before me but it took us some time to find out about each others desires.

So when I arrive on the patio I’m already wet. Then I just sit down on the towel and put the box with my toys next to me on the floor.

Usually, when I’m in the mood, I go out in my bikini and flip-flops. So there’s not much to care about or prepare. But despite – nah! Rather for my growing desire I take my time. I watch the box. Inside my little passengers feel some relief after the shaking motions of my gait stopped. While the contents of the box got shaken to and fro no one dared to get out of a vehicle. With very few exceptions. But when things get quiet they tend to spill out. Recluctantly of course but that’s just what I like about it. Soon the bottom of the box is littered with tiny people. But far more of them are still inside of whatever I catched. I roll over on my stomach propping myself up on my elbows and displaying my heavily loaded bikini top to the contents of the box. When I’m sure I’ve got everyone’s attention I grab the bikini top, pull it from my breasts and off over my head. My boobs flop down and sway to and fro, colliding with each other. They form a nice cleavage right over the box, still slightly swaying and sliding against each other. Once I followed my temptation to lower my boobs into the box but that ended the fun just too quick.

And here’s what I do to start the fun. I reach inside and take a bus or at least a car if there’s none present. I just use my fingers. I’m in a tender mood and don’t care about the dents I cause. Window shards dust my fingers as my soft grip crushes the windows.  Then I roll back and hold it close to my nipple. If it’s a bus I slowly start to squeeze until they all drop out from the tiny windows. If it’s a car the thing’s a little more different.  A car’s so tiny that I hold it between my fingernails. By then my nails have crushed it considerably and when I just drop it onto the areola the people inside are busy trying to get out. Meanwhile I can get another one and spill it the same way. I try to keep some control as playing too rough with cars and busses will spill all the operating liquids and the amount is sufficient to create a tiny mess on my boob. I don’t like that. Clean fun, you know?

The car wrecks I discard. They’re much too weak and tiny to give any pleasure. So I just flip them across the patio. Just to be sure no one’s left out in getting dealt a part of the play.

Busses are somewhat larger. About half an inch long but very very thin. When I got most people out they are already quite mangled. Most of the time I can’t do anything but ball them up between my fingers and flip the dollop away. Sometimes there’s enough left to be squashed into my nipple. A nice demonstration to the tinies on my areola.

The guys there are usually frantically scurrying about. My nipples have hardend long before so they have a nice amount of clefts and wrinkles to scatter into.  When I feel they have spread enough I’m already longing for the short moment of squeezing my nipple. They’re just under my eyes and I can watch them go splat under the pressure of my fingers. That’s got some special tingle for me.

Of course I get another bus or car to spill and squish more people. And of course there’s another nipple to take care about.  But this is only foreplay.

If I have some busloads left I take the time to spill them into my navel. It’s an extra thrill to leave them there and forget about them only to find out later if they made it through the play I’m going to unfold.

And that’s the time when I’m coming to big things. Big things are of course planes and ships. I already told you that. Not to forget trains. Mellie usually takes them for herself but sometimes I may enjoy one.

Traincars are the smallest and weakest things among these. I rarely manage to keep some parts of the train coupled. But I try. If  it works out I take the train from the engine and align it along my snatch. The engine around my clit and the row of cars leading down and into my pussy. I rarely manage to get more than three cars but this is a nice match to the length of my nether lips as the cars are just inchlong. This sounds easy to you but it isn’t. I have to take care spreading my legs and assist with my free hand. Otherwise my pussylips would just flatten the flimsy thing.

Maybe this sounds unbelievable to you and I don’t know if someone ever lived to tell. But my pussylips are much thicker than a traincar is wide. They are just about one tenth of an inch wide and a little higher than that. And my pussy – have you ever seen a pussy up close? Well, of course every pussy is different. My outer lips like to be well closed. They are thick and have a flat surface where they press against each other and of course against my inner lips which like to protrude some. My labia are quite wrinkled outside but in between my outer lips they are even. Like ironed by my outer lips. They are about as thick as a train car but – massive and not hollow like your cars. So when I feel like it or if I’m not careful I might just release my snatch and it will just close like a compactor and leave nothing but sheet metal from the train. And that’s also why I don’t care much about using just men to please me. They tend to smear away too easily.

It’s great to have diesel engines. Almost every time the driver stays in the engine and when the train starts sliding down in my wetness these guys start the engines and try to drive up the wet gorge. Of course they don’t gain anything by it but that little engine whirs and hums in a nice way on my clit. Meanwhile car after car slides down into my pussy. They’re welcome as I’m deliciously wet and like to imagine what’s going on inside.

Of course it’s just my wet pussy but the train cars are just so tiny and there are tons of my flesh around. I’m sure when a passenger car slides down into the heat it will splash into my juices and quickly go down. It would already be dark except for the emergency lights and as car’s are not built to withstand waterpressure my juices will well up through any gaps and holes before the pressure just cracks the windows and the fragrant mess will slosh into the car like an avalanche of slush. In the dim lights people are struggling against the thick mucus trying to find some breatheable air. Maybe there’s even some left in a corner or beneath a seat. But as the car slides down the pressure rises even more and those tiny bubbles of air are compacted and displaced by more and more pussyjuice. Meanwhile the steel groans as it slides along the walls of my pussy. Some have already died. Some get too close to the window and are dragged out to be crushed between my pussy and the carcass of the car. Steel groans as the pressure of my pussywalls seeking contact is just too much for the steel frame. And then at some point a beat of my heart adds just enough pressure to make it collapse. The last struggles are squished when the car flattens just by the pressure inside my tender vagina. And I can feel just that. The thin frame of the car flattening inside of me. It just happens without as much as a twitch from me. It is so weak!

Of course sometimes I feel like using my inner muscles. But its rather to feel myself than to feel a waggon collapse. It flattens rather unremarkably. My pussy clenches and its flat afterwards. Nothing to be felt at all. Too weak.

So a train won’t do too much for me. It’s still some kind of foreplay. It’s all in my head. To bad for the guys inside. Of course I wouldn’t like an empty train but they die just to have me knowing that they were in there.

A plane is more interesting. When I’m careful I can even use it to pry myself open with its fuselage. Of course not really open. But when I spread my legs and my inner lips part a little it’s able to get through. Quite dented of course – but I already told you that.

A big plane is about pencil thin to me. It’s really far from filling me and by far not sturdy enough to have me slosh it around in my cunt but I can really feel it inside.

I usually take more than one plane to exert some different techniques on them. The first one I’ll just chew up.  I slide it in and love to feel when it’s already crumpling between my lips.  Then I feel it inside of my pussy and I just clench. It’s easily overpowered by my pc muscles. I can feel it go flat. Well not exactly flat. It’s somewhere in between flattened and compacted into an oval profile. And then I shove some more  in and clench again. After that the wings will fold up against the fuselage as they are dragged inside. Short planes take three to four clenches while bigger ones are long enough for five. Finally I’ll just pull out what’s left. Usually it’s just a vermicular dollop of aluminium foil.

That done my muscles are somewhat relaxed enough to take the next plane in full. Well I don’t like the word full here. A big one will still be a bit short of three inches in length and even you wouldn’t expect me to be filled with that.

However it’s a pleasant thing to push it in with a single stroke, flattening or ripping wings and all. When I pull out my finger I can feel my pussy settling on it. My vagina somewhat bends it into the curved form of my love tunnel. The hull will crack, windows will break and my pussyjuice will invade the cabin. I shudder with that thought.

Then I will have some artistic play. Did you know that I am a trained woman? I am well aware of my inner muscles. So I can milk that plane with my pussy. It’s the best part and so close to the real thing. Inside I know maybe one hundred maybe two hundred tiny people struggling in my cum as it splashes onto them through the broken windows. And then I clench the lowest part of my vagina. I can feel the rear of the plane go flat and I know that inside the cabin a wave of love juice, struggling people and of course some debris is welling up and the economy class is forced into the business class.

Thinking about this I usually shudder from a tiny pre-orgasm. I just hold it for a few seconds, then I use some more muscles. I can feel the rough surface of the crumpled wings while I squelch that part of the plane.  Whatever is alive or dead inside is forced up into the front part of my toy. I like the thought of first class passengers being overrun by a wave of lower beings, some squished guts and other parts.

I am not used to stop there. By then I am usually cumming for the first time and I use the muscles deep in my vagina. I convince myself of feeling a little more resistance before the tip of the plane rips apart and the whole mess of cum and victims spurts out of my toy and into my dephts.

The remains of the plane look quite messy after that. When I pull it out it’s usually in one mangled piece and tinted a little red by the remains of the victims.

Sometimes that’s the high for the day but sometimes I also have a ship to play with. Ships are just great. Well thinking about a ship is not that great actually. Just the best we can get from your world. See a ship is made of steel. Very sturdy – that’s what you think. Not at all that’s what we think. Say your ship has a steel hull of one inch thick steel plates. That’s impressive, don’t you think so? Only the most stressed parts of a ship’s hull get two inch plates.

To us that’s at best flimsy. Its tinfoil to us. Really. Of your impressive one inch remains one thousandth on our scale. And without the ribs and bulkheads we couldn’t even handle a ship.

So have you ever imagined to treat a pussy with some hollow piece of tinfoil? If not, do so now!

But I already told you that it’s just the best kind of toy we can get. I have to be very wet and ready to use one. And I have to be really relaxed so it’s really best after the plane. I lay on my back and spread my legs so my pussy is about to open on itself.  Then I peel my pussylips open and carefully insert the ship.  It feels slick at first. And it’s not cold because the metal is just so thin. As it slides into me my labia slide across it smearing it with fragrant cum. Then as it goes in deeper the flesh of my pussywalls snuggles up against it and I can feel the rips in the hull as my flesh is already causing the outer skin of steel to buckle. Only the heavy beams can withstand the pressure. Then the superstructure touches the entrance of my pussy and I love the next part. I pull it back, slosh it around softly – to me that is and I don’t care about bending the hull a little. When I can’t hold back I’ll release my pussylips. My swollen labia will slide back into position embracing the ship. I can feel how tenderly my labia touch it. Still my most delicate bodypart is too much for it and that part of the ship joyfully succumbs to their ambition to close themselves. So the superstructure just crumples under my labia. When the ship is big enough I sit up, careful not to move a muscle that would damage the fragile toy. Then I can try to reach my clit with the rear part of the superstructure. Sometimes the funnel is at the rear. Sometimes it’s the pool. Both is interesting. The funnel provides an interesting crunch as it is more sturdy than the rest of the superstructure. The pool usually provides a tingle of people. I don’t know why but there are always some at the pool. Maybe like the band on the Titanic playing up to the last moments they want to enjoy their drinks up to the last moment. Nah! Of course not. I think they just run to the rear of the ship while the fore part of the superstructure is just squashed flat by my labia. After I delivered some fun to my clit it’s time to finish. I shove the ship into my massive cunt. That soft tittilation is over then. My pussy is bulldozing whatever is left of the superstructure. I can feel the hull giving in slightly. My cream invades the ship. It’s almost as if the thing’s sucking up my juices. Like a sponge with it’s countless portholes. The overwhelming pressure of my tender flesh sure cracks them open.

In it goes and if possible like in the very most cases it goes completely in until my pussylips close behind the rear. And when I lower my index finger onto my clit I think of the people inside. They are in fear now. They’ve felt so safe. Of course the ship was the most sturdy thing in that box of toys. Some even climbed aboard, I know that. We are not blind. We watched them climb in while the ship lay on its side within the box. Now they are trapped inside and they hear the bulkheads creaking. My heart beating. My blood rushing and of course my juices invading the ship. The outer cabins are sure flooded by now. My thick juices have cracked the glass of the porthole and a thick stream jets into the cabin, knocking down and drowning whatever and whoever is inside. Then the pressure cracks the cabin doors and my liquid lust floods into the depths of the ship. Meanwhile I started to massage my clit in earnest. Any clit riders are already smeared across it or squished into the surrounding folds. My movements rock the ship and when I start to buck my hips people inside must be violently tossed about. Some of course will land softly in the choaking embrace of my warm juices where they struggle like dying sperms.

And then, finally, I will cum. I love that moment. Of course. My swollen clit tingles and ignites my pussylips. The joyful climax spreads into my pussy and I work my toy with my pelvic muscles. The soft and slick walls of my vagina crush down on the battered hull and effortlessly buckle every rib and bulkhead at once. With disdain for your pitiful work my pussy flattens the ship with the first surge of my orgasm. Then the following ripples compact it even further. I knead it into a tiny, twisted lobe of steel foil before my finger delves into my depths paying no heed to the wreckage as all I wanna do is to prolong the orgasm as much as possible. Finally I drag out what’s left under my fingernail and ball it up between my fingers. A little steel ball, usually no bigger than the tip of my thumb is all that’s left. I just put it aside for my collection. Only the really big cruise liners can give me some more. A tiny fistful of metal and two or in some rare cases three orgasms when I have to break the ship into two or three parts before putting it in.

When I’m out of toys I usually just dump the remains inside the box into my pussy as I spread it open again. Then I lustfully let my pussy chew the folks who have left the toys I already used along with whatever toys are left. It’s a good way to come down. Sometimes there are so many of them that their struggles tickle me into a soft afterglow orgasm.

After that I usually take a nap on the patio. Sometimes I see some survivors struggle to get past me and somehow off our property. I’m usually to lazy to squish them. I rather like to watch their fear and doubled efforts as they see my eyes on them. That reminds me of an incident which really made me lough. I was just watching a groub of five tinies trying to pass around my head to reach the lawn of the backyard. I had been watching them for almost a minute until they saw my eyes and maybe they could notice my grin. I was lazy and just kept watching while they broke into a run which only served to make them even slower when their exhausted bodies were spent after a couple of seconds. Then they obviously got into a quarrel about to go on or head back and finally two went ahead and three went back. Or was it three going ahead and to heading back? I don’t know and it doesn’t matter because they had attracted my attention in such a way that I was in total surprise as a red surface came out of the sky and landed right upon them easily covering all five as the two groups were not more than one inch apart at that moment. Right when I recognized the thing as a red flip flop which was of course my daughter’s flip flop along with her tanned, young foot inside, the sole rose at the rear and slapped against the bare heel of my daughter as it was lifted up and left. My eyes, still focused on the point where the tinies had been just saw five tiny red splotches spreading a little bit before the sun dried them up. I really had to laugh out loud and it took a few seconds before I could tell Mellie what had been so funny about her walking past me.

Talking about fun – we have a lot of it. Maybe when You heard about my story being published you thought that our life is boring. It could seem so and I know that. As far as I can notice over the years we don’t get older. We don’t eat, we just drink and Mellie matured just normaly but I still look like – twenty eight like my daughter says. Alright, I said there’s no way to hide im thirty six. That was up there in the beginning. A few days ago, you know. Did you think I’d write it all up in an hour?

I thought I’d not deprive you of the hope of us getting old and die some day. But right now it just looks like that won’t happen. Mellie’s nineteen and just looks like it. But I have a picture of us from a few weeks before our growth and I can tell you I still look the same. No tiny starts of crow feets. No slight sag of my breasts. No cellulite on my ass. Not more horny skin on my feet. Seven years went by without leaving a trace and that’s just impossible – like growing a mile tall.

Sometimes I fear we might just vanish or something. Get thinner not in size but in substance. Like getting transparent until we disappear like a whif or something. But then again when I step into your world I am as destructive as ever and the sun still doesn’t shine through our roof. I bet we’ll still be the nightmare of your grandchildren.

At first I thought it was some kind of punishment. Devil’s revenge for whatever. But then why not just me? My daughter was and is innocent – I don’t count whatever count of your kind she squished in- or outside of her. You’re insignificant.

Back then I though that it was bad enough to have my world reduced to nothing but my house and the few things inside while anything outside that had been desirable was too small to be of any use. No TV, no movies. No music from the radio after the last batteries died.

But now I think it was a reward. The biggest prize ever given to the two of us. We don’t have to work. We are free to move around and yet we love to stick together. Mellie’s not just my daughter, she’s also my friend and we share a lot. Instead of hanging out in front of the TV we have so much time to care about us, the world and anything we like. It’s just great!

Well I was talking about fun. Sometimes our home and its surroundings are boring. That’s when we go to the beach. Usually we go to the Monterey Bay and sit down on Sunset State Beach. Well… The beach strip is less than 500 foot wide. So… You can’t say I got a big, fat, wide ass but it just doesn’t fit on it. The whole thing is as wide as a foot path to us. So when we first got there I had my toes in the waves and each of my heels on one of these v-shaped holiday flat blocks. Recklining I had my head in Watsonville. So that’s our impression of the usual beach.

As I already told you Watsonville is quite trampled by now. Erased by our footprints. Not that we did it on purpose. Just without care. See it’s like holiday to us when we get there so we don’t want to think about being careful or even gracious enough to walk around a city.

Sometimes we like to see something different. That’s when we go for a walk in search of other places. We even got to Rio de Janeiro once. I’m sure you heard that on the news. 6000 miles – we could’ve made it in an hour but sauntering as we were it took us two and a half. That beach was small but really lively. And that Sugar Loaf Mountain – very pleasing. At last something that was more than I can take. But so smooth and… slick! At least after I left it.

Mellie had some play with the city. She said that beautiful girls would usually go topless on Copacabana Beach and she wanted, too. Of course she was welcome to and I also stripped down to my little string.

‘I think my boobs got enough tan this summer. Time to get my back into the sun’, she said and I thought nothing about it until she propped herself up on her elbows with the tiny city right beneath her pendulous boobs. She’s quite stacked I have to say. A little bigger than me. Don’t care for your cup sizes. She’s grown since she fit into an A.

‘Hah, Mom, you gotta try this with another city. It really tickles!’ she commented. Meanwhile her boobs had swayed to and fro across the cityscape and like overdimensioned wrecking balls knocked down every skyscraper in town. The firm curvatures of her titflesh were covered in white powder and the city below was all smoke, dust and debris. Until she lowered her boobs and rolled and dragged them across the city. After a few moments only a few suburbs and some houses on the mountains remained. Those, she decided, were not worth the attention.

During the afternoon we had some fun with the survivors and the people in the surrounding towns. All in all it was a great afternoon and we decided to return some day.

Mellie stayed topless on the way home. She’s been blessed by nature with these boobs of hers. I was equipped nicely when I was her age but I needed to get pregnant with her until I could really call myself big. Now I’m all content with mine. Her’s are very firm but as they’re all natural they’re too big for an apple shape. Firm pears that really jut out from her breast. Mine are a little softer. Not sagging but wider while not standing that high from my breast.

Mellie’s grown up over the years. There’s little change on a day by day basis. But looking back at those days she’s changed a lot. Of course she’s always been clever. Thinking more straight then me. Like that second day. Looking back I wonder why it took them more than a day. But maybe someone of you tinies should write us a story in return about that.

I was in my bedroom trying to think about things. And suddenly there was Mellie standing in front of me.

‘Mom! There was a tank in the hallway.’

‘A tank? That’s finally someone trying to contact us. Where is it?’

‘Well, umm… some of it might still be stuck to my flip flop.’

‘Mellie! You shouldn’t have done that!’

‘Why not?’

Mellie’s reply startled me. She asked in earnest.

‘Because I’m waiting for someone to tell us they’d surrender.’

‘Don’t think so, mom. Those guys got in here in a tank. They didn’t ring the bell they just snuck in underneath the door. They didn’t do anything to get noticed. I wouldn’t expect some committee to arrive in a tank. What protection would a tank have to offer? I swear they knew it’d crunch like a bug if I stepped on it. If you want to protect someone against getting stepped on you’d maybe put him into a yellow jacket and not into a camouflaged vehicle. The thing was painted stone gray. Get it? And there was only one reason why they took it. It provided a gun.’

Mellie had a point stepping on it. If they wanted to come in peace they would’ve layed out some bright signs on the porch waiting for us to notice. You tinies aren’t that small, you know? You could’ve painted a red cross say one by one inches in size. The bars would’ve been less than 100 foot long. An easy thing.

‘So they still try to fight?’

‘That’s it mom. They’ve sure thought this through. They have the fact that we exist. They can easily see how big we are and they can calculate how much food we need. Each of us will eat for one billion humans. Do you think they can afford that? And if they can, would they want it? I’m sure they didn’t just say give it a try. They just said go in an’ kill’em fer sure!’

‘Did they shoot?’

‘No. Guess they were a bit surprised. I had been in the kitchen and when I got out I saw their thank moving across the floor. Just like a bug. It’s not larger than that. Something between a quarter and half an inch long. It would look slim next to a ladybug but is about the same length. The tiny tower was rotating into my direction and there wasn’t much to think.  Two steps towards it and it went crunch.’

‘That sure was the right thing to do. But I don’t want to have you involved in some kind of a war between us and the… other humans. Now let’s get down and see if we can find the gap where they got through.’

We found it easily. The had blasted away a part of the towel that I had stuffed into the gap under the door.

‘Mellie, I think that does it. I’ll go out and deal out some payback. You stay inside and get everything that goes in!’

She just nodded. Then I opened the door and got out.  Mellie closed it behind me and I heard her working with the towel.

The porch was clean. But across the front lawn there was something strange. I couldn’t tell what it was. Maybe I just saw that the grass had an unusual color. So I walked over and found what any militarist would’ve called a force concentration. Well to me it was rather a gathering of weakness. The black flip flops I wore made short work of it. Just a few steps. I didn’t stomp them. That just wasn’t necessary. I just tripped a bit to and fro until I got everything covered. That’s just it. I don’t know how many they were but I think more than a hundred vehicles. Mostly tanks. And many tinies. Infantry. They were like sole-fodder. Some tanks got shots out. Some hit me. Harmless. Totally harmless. Like sand. Even harmless to my eyeballs but they couldn’t shoot that high.

At that moment I wasn’t surprised about the outcome. And they weren’t, either. And they teached me, why.

A blinding flash erupted right in front of my face.

Instinctively I shielded my face with my hand. ‘They nuked me!’, I thought. And I was right. Almost, that is. I’m sure they used a fusion bomb. The biggest they had. And it did warm me. I’m sorry to say that just that was the outcome. The flash was blinding for a moment but then there was only some warmth just as if you watch a fire-breather. The moment when he produces a big flame you feel the radiated heat on your face. But it’s not hot it’s just warm for a second and then gone.

Again they had sacrificed soldiers to lure me into a trap. Again I had literally stepped into it and again they had failed to score.  I blew a kiss at the expanding cloud in front of me and it drew the nuclear blast apart. Then I turned around and got in.

‘Mellie? I think the war’s over. For us at least.’

‘What was that flash, mom? Did they try to nuke you?’

‘Guess so.’

‘Ha. Stupid guys. I knew it wouldn’t work.’

‘Young lady, stop telling fairy tales.’

‘Nope, mom, sorry. But we’re right inside of one. This is all impossible if you don’t accept magic.’

‘From an observer’s point of view any technology advanced enough won’t be distinguishable from magic’, I countered.

‘Call it magic, call it technology. Whover is behind this wouldn’t have made us possible if we weren’t bullet proof. Our skin’s just to thick to be burned in a nuclear attack. And it’s also to thick to be penetrated by armour piercing shells or something. I bet they will try but in the end won’t be able to come up with something dangerous.’

She won that bet. Not just so far. I know you’ve given up. And that’s why I thought about writing up my part about this.

I just wanted to let you know that you should feel very lucky. Lucky because we just live our life as goddesses. We can’t be seen as anything else from your point of view. We are beyond your capabilities. Sometimes we choose to play with your kind but most of the time we just don’t care about you. You are just of no consequence. We do as we please and we accept that you live on the same planet with us. If we didn’t accept it we could’ve taken our time to just wipe you out. What do you think? How many of your kind would be alive one year after we trampled the last city? Have fun thinking about it. And better pray to me that I don’t have too much fun thinking about it, too.

By the way. I’m about to drop these papers close to one of your larger cities. I’ll spread them next to each other as you’d be incapable of turning the pages if I stacked them. After that I’ll have a look out for some toys. Mellie’s got that look in her eyes again. So I’d thought I’d surprise her with something crunchy for her pussy. She really deserves it. As much as I’m happy that she never had to deal with an idiot boyfriend I feel sorry as she never had been able to experience being well laid. But then again everything’s got its drawbacks. I guess I find myself some nice cruise ship for tonight…

So I gotta be going and you better keep squishing for us. Get breeding. And build more ships!

Bye!

Your giantess goddess Jane

 Written by Hedin 2009