She went by many names. Some good, some bad. Mostly bad. People spoke of her in hushed tones, afraid of incurring her wrath. She was an enigma, dangerous and mysterious. She relished taking on dozens of armed guards at once. She lived for battle. Violence fueled her sadistic needs, and she wasn't afraid of simply taking what she felt she needed.
Now she was alone, walking through a vast, empty meadow. Behind her was a village in flames, already forgotten. She was singularly minded, and only cared about the task she'd been assigned by her Mistress, the Lady Ranavalona. She'd been given new orders after successfully quashing a feeble rebellion that had been mounted against the Lady and her keep.
The battle lasted minutes, and before the blood adorning Marcella's body had fully dried, she was given a new task. Retrieve a magical artifact from a town to the south. Mere busy work for the Paladin, and she worried her performance had been slipping. No acknowledgment had been given for the deliciously cruel way she'd wiped out the rebels and their pitiable army. Only an assignment, and a time limit.
The ground in the meadow was soft, and Marcella felt her booted feet sink into the earth slightly with every step. Mud caked the bottom of her boots, making the miles-long journey slow, and more arduous than it should have been. After several hours of this she could feel her feet begin to grow sore within the boots, and hoped there'd be an opportunity to rest before she was inevitably called into battle again.
The sun bore down on the exceptionally tall woman, and she brushed a few stray locks of dirty-blonde hair from her face. She was dressed conservatively despite the heat, but her feet were protesting the journey. A thin, sharp heel, and skintight fit ensured they were exceptionally uncomfortable for the long trek she was taking.
Smoke began to rise overhead, but Marcella ignored it, along with the echoing screams and odor of a burning village. She'd caused the destruction moments earlier, but in fit of short-sightedness, had forgotten to secure an effective form of transportation out of the ruined village.
The ground grew steep, only adding to the pain beginning to course through her legs. She was known to use pain to fuel her own delicious sadism in battle, but outside, it was an annoyance. One that could only be fixed by resting, which would only waste time. So, she kept her steady pace up, as by her estimates the village should be just over this hill.
The burning inferno began to shrink in the distance as she continued onward. Pain-filled screams were replaced by the chirping of annoying bugs, and the stench of burning homes began to dissipate. Sweat was beading on her forehead, and her muscles groaned in protest. Mighty as she was, the heat and humidity were beginning to take their toll on her form.
Finally, with an extra burst of energy, Marcella crested the accursed hill. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she breathed heavily while shielding the sun from her eyes. In a valley created by the hill was a relatively small village with what looked to be a bustling marketplace. A satisfied grin crossed her lips, and she began the much easier trek downhill and towards the city.
Trees grew more sparse while crude roads began to make themselves apparent. The compacted, firm dirt was much easier to step on, a small change she was grateful for. She was within earshot of the settlement now, and was entering the town through what looked to be an outdoor market.
Marcella didn't have much to go on. She'd been shown a picture of the object which she had committed to memory. Her Mistress, the Lady Ranavalona had sent her to track down a simple, black iron sphere. It would react to Marcella's presence, and taint the very air around the woman.
The object was supposed to be widely sought after, meaning a grifter may try to pass off a fake as the real deal. To ensure legitimacy, Marcella had been instructed to repeat a simple incantation once she held the ball. A fake would burst into flames, and the owner of it would need to be punished for the forgery.
She was never told what the real one would do, but had assumed it would do nothing. So long as the sphere didn't burst into flames she could then take it and begin the long trek back home. She'd make sure to secure some method of transportation this time, even if a bit of meaningless slaughter would be required.
Marcella grinned slightly. She hoped it would come to that.
Still, there was the matter of where to start. Should she ask around the local pubs for information, or just a random civilian? She considered her options a moment as people milled about before making her decision. With a lightning-quick arm movement, she grabbed a short, thin man by the scruff of his shirt, and held him up to her face.
"Where's the nearest blacksmith?" She asked, her cold, stern expression breaking down his will in an instant.
"I-I didn't do anything! I swear!" He begged, trembling.
"I said..." Marcella began, before headbutting the man the thin man's face violently. A thin trail of blood began to seep down his nose while his hands rushed up to stop it. "Where can I find a blacksmith? I won't repeat myself again." She growled, lower, and more menacingly.
"M-Mad Jack's!" He whimpered. As tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. "C-Crazy old guy! A bit loose in the head, but he's only a few blocks away! Can I go now?!" He begged, tears beginning to flow freely from his eyes.
"In a moment." Marcella growled. "Does he know anything about charms, or trinkets?"
"Y-Yeah! He can make anything! Just make a right down that alley over there!" He cried, pointing towards a busy street.
"Very well." Marcella said, before releasing the thin man. He crumpled to the ground immediately, before popping back up to his feet and running away. She swiftly walked in the direction the man indicated, feeling the pain flare back up in her feet as she did so. She cursed quietly, swearing to take some of her frustrations out on the mad smith.
In no time at all she'd stepped up to a nondescript door. Stopping in front of it, she harshly knocked, patience already waning. A cacophony of noises exploded from the inside in what sounded like dozens of metal pots and pans clanging against each other. After five long, unanswered seconds, Marcella simply lifted a booted foot up and with an angry shout, kicked the door with all her might.
Then, she promptly fell forward. A split-second too late she'd realized that the door was of the shoddiest construction, and instead of kicking it down she'd only succeeded in blasting her own foot through the other side. All that forward momentum had to go somewhere though, and she fell forward, the weight of her body tearing the entire thing off its hinges and forcing the dignified Paladin to her knees.
"What sort of piecemeal..." She growled, forcing her foot out of the hole in the door as she climbed back to her feet. An old, balding man with oversized spectacles was staring at Marcella in surprise, as she straightened herself out. "You call yourself a blacksmith with a door constructed that poorly?!" She shouted angrily, kicking stray bits of splintered wood from her leg.
"A blacksmith? Me? Who wants to know?!" He shouted back angrily, puffing his chest out and stepping up to the angry Paladin. With an angry snarl he looked her in the eye, squinting as he stood up to her.
Marcella wasn't quite sure how to react. Her reputation oft preceded her, and when it didn't, people were often intimidated by her size, her appearance, her weaponry, or any of the other myriad things about her that exuded danger. This short little man had dared to stand up to her directly though! A noble, if confusing feat. Unfortunately, Marcella wasn't one to stay confused long, and she thrust an arm forward, wrapping her strong, slender fingers around the man's throat.
"Listen here, vermin." She spat, her eyes smoldering with hate as all the rebellion melted off the now-trembling man's face. "Are. You.-"
"Y-Ye! I am!" He whimpered back, interrupting her.
Marcella's expression softened. If she had the right place, she was almost done. Her lips curled upwards ever so slightly as she tightened her fingers around the short man's throat, exhaling lustily as she felt it collapse beneath her strength. His struggles grew weaker as his body vainly fought for air, and she tossed him aside like the garbage he was.
A loud crack rang through the room as his body crashed through a wall entirely, and Marcella felt her anger reach all new heights. This couldn't be the place! Why would a man devoted to bending and shaping steel hold shop in such poorly constructed hovel?! Had she been tricked by the stranger in the market?!
Clenching her hands into fists, Marcella forced her anger down again, knowing she was nearing her breaking point. She needed to find the item she was seeking first. Then she could stroll back to that outdoor market and calm herself with a nice, warm bloodbath. She could start with the man who'd led her to this hovel, and maybe slaughter him in front of his family. Then they'd find themselves beneath her heel one at a time and...
Shaking her head clear again, Marcella chose to keep herself focused. Unfortunately she still had quite a bit of pent up anger, and her first step towards the back of the shop was more of a stomp. With a loud snap, her foot stamped straight through the weak floor and into the mud below. Immediately her mind switched back to thoughts of dismembering dozens of lovely, innocent people. The mental images of their terrified expressions, lovely screams, and warm entrails worked to calm her nerves again.
Pressing her still-free foot into the floor, Marcella tried to step out of the newly created hole, only to find out her foot was stuck. Taking a deep breath, she counted down from ten. There was no use getting any angrier if there was no way to relieve it.
"One..." She counted aloud, and stamped her free foot into the floor, attempting to use the leverage from the sudden movement to launch herself upward and free her foot. Unfortunately, the universe saw fit to deny the angry woman her expectations once more, and she instead plunged her second foot through the flimsy flooring, and got it stuck as well.
Her screams were legendary. The surrounding area grew deathly quiet as an impossibly angry, shrill scream came from the old blacksmith's shop. People in other parts of the city quieted down, wondering if they were all hearing things or if they'd simultaneously gone mad. A dozen miles away a stray dog played in a meadow, before stopping suddenly and howling.
Summoning more strength than she ever had before, Marcella yanked her feet up. Her footwear remained stuck in the flooring, while her now bared soles were exposed to the elements. The floor was gritty to the touch, but she no longer cared, and left for the back rooms of the dilapidated hovel.
With a deep, forced exhale, Marcella began to calm down. The very first drawer she'd examined contained a spherical item wrapped in a mass of oily rags. She knew immediately that this was the real artifact, as it seemed to react to her presence with a pulsing light. Once her bare fingers made contact with the metal, it began to thrum with energy. She could have returned with the item already, confident she had the real artifact, but Marcella was nothing if not fiercely loyal, and closed her eyes.
She'd practiced the incantation dozens of times on her walk to this location, and many times more before even leaving. The words came naturally to her now, and she could feel the sphere begin to vibrate against her and grow hot. Still, she continued, completely confident that she wouldn't burn her hands.
A clear, white smoke began to pour from the sphere as Marcella spoke. Thin wisps wafted into her nostrils, but the sphere itself never caught fire. Then, brimming with confidence, Marcella opened her eyes, having finished the incantation. The sphere no longer smoked, and she slipped it into one of her pockets, before stepping back into the main part of the store.
Easy. She knew not what her Mistress needed these items for, as she never seemed to do anything the ones she'd retrieved. Still, she was satisfied with a job well done, and walked back to her stuck shoes, intent on freeing them from the shabby flooring.
"Stop!"
A slight grin crossed the Paladin's face. She chose not to turn, and face her aggressors in order to save the moment. She wasn't exactly subtle on her way here, and knew that law enforcement had to have been on its way soon. How many guards had come to stop her? A dozen? Maybe two? With a smug grin, she turned her head in the direction of the voice while cracking her knuckles.
Strangely, there was nobody in the building. Surely she hadn't just been hearing things?
"This is a strict no-loitering zone! Come with us sir!"
Marcella was dumbfounded. They were retrieving the old fool she'd thrown out into the streets a few minutes ago! What sort of absurd priorities did they have in place if that was their first reaction? Was this city populated entirely by madmen? Did they not find issue with the hole he'd been launched through?
Outside of the building, the old smith was being helped to his feet and escorted away by a handful of guards. Not one paid any mind to the gaping hole in the wall, or the woman staring at them from inside of the building with a deep, intense hatred. No, their orders were simple, and to deviate from them would mean risking punishment.
So it made sense that neither party noticed the mysterious goings-on until it was far too late to do anything about it. Multiple loud, crackling crunches echoed from within the building next to the vagrant. Before the order to investigate could even be uttered, a huge, feminine fist exploded through the wall, and grabbed the lead guard.
A second later, the roof began to bulge outwardly, before coming apart like it was made of crackers. A huge, and still rapidly growing woman exploded out from the hole, and awkwardly climbed to her feet. Her extended arm broke through the ceiling with the greatest of ease, carrying the guard captain up to her face as the giantess stared down her first victim.
Marcella was a whirlwind of emotions for the moment. Anger, excitement, and despair all rolled into a confusing cocktail. She was angry over the incompetence of the guards. What fun is there in destroying those who aren't even aware they're in a fight? Then excitement frothed to the surface as she'd realized she was growing. Her Mistress, Lady Ranavalona surely knew that this would happen when the incantation was spoken while holding the sphere, and it had been so long since Marcella was allowed to rampage on an entire, tiny, populace. Then her thoughts went back to her now long-gone shoes. They'd been a gift to her by her Mistress, Lady Ranavalona, presumably to sway her into caring more for her footwear. Now they were stuck in a shrinking building, and undoubtedly crushed by her colossal form.
Action was the only thing that came natural to Marcella, and while her mind was swirling in confusion, she'd instinctively reached out and grabbed the most-important looking guard standing outside. He was now in her fist, beating at her fingers with his pathetically small hands, hoping to do some damage with his heavily armored fists.
Counting down from ten, Marcella finally found herself straightening out her mind. Obviously, she was given this gift to make her own entertainment, and the last thing she ever wanted to do was disappoint her Mistress. So, with the confusion fading from her face, she turned attention back to the little man in her hands, and grinned widely.
Two giant fingers pinched one of the little man's flailing fists. Applying just the tiniest bit of pressure, she felt the metal bend from her strength, and shivered in pleasure. She deserved this. That long, horrifyingly painful walk. The incompetence displayed by this town's people at every turn. The simple fact that she was big, and they were small. Nobody knew her better than her Mistress, and she gently separated her fingers, marveling at the red splattered hunk of twisted metal that once was the man's forearm.
Any attempts at feigning heroism had left the captain, and he was now begging for his life. Marcella frowned, offended that a man in his line of work had not the dignity to accept his death. For that, she would extend his suffering, and pinched his other arm, pulling on it.
The plates of his armor bent from the pressure while Marcella pulled at his limb. He bent his body as best he could in the direction she was pulling, hoping to spare himself for a moment longer, but it was simply not to be. With a squishy, wet crunch, his arm separated from his torso, and with an extra jerk, Marcella broke it off of the armor as well.
Blood gargled from the man's mouth, staining the giantess's fingers as he begged for mercy. The fear of death was put in him, and streams of thick, fat tears rolled down the sides of his face. His words were incoherent, but that didn't particularly matter. He was dead to Marcella anyway, and nothing he said could have convinced her otherwise.
Bringing those huge, threatening fingers back to the little man, she pinched the sides of his head, but applied no pressure. His incoherent cries quickly became frantic, and the Marcella gave a little smirk. This is what she lived for. While slaughtering the helpless isn't as satisfying as killing one's foe in fair combat, there was a certain, extra thrill in doing so as a powerful, towering giantess. A force of nature, standing as tall as the sky, and more powerful than a mountain.
Marcella's lips curled into a twisted smile as she pinched her fingers together. The man's head exploded, spraying thin jets of blood over the giantess's lips. Slipping her tongue out from her mouth, she tasted his death while tightening her fist around the headless corpse.
His body crumpled inward like a sheet of paper. A warm rush ran through the giantess's entire body, while a steady stream of crimson leaked from the bottom of her fist and splashed onto the streets below. She began to pant. Marcella hadn't felt like this for a long time. Pure, unadulterated slaughter as a giantess. Nothing could compare, and she began to slowly come out of the pleasurable haze she was in while extinguishing a life.
Lucid again, she could now feel a slight prickling from her bare feet. Opening her fist, she let the twisted mass of flesh and metal plummet to the streets, watching its descent with a grin. As it fell, she caught sight of her aggressors, and felt another rush run through her. Individualized killing was fine and all, but she was a giantess now. Why focus on the single individual when you can bring pain and misery to dozens at a time?
Blood lust fueling her movements, Marcella raised her right bare foot, watching over the streets for a moment. Some of the remaining guards had courage enough to continue to strike at her bare flesh even after she'd completely destroyed their leader, but she'd get them soon enough. No, she found her quarry in the form of the bedraggled blacksmith, still crawling along the cobblestone streets.
With agonizing slowness, she hovered her foot over the little man and pressed down ever so softly. This man was an insult to his craft, and was the reason she would be doing this slaughter barefoot. It only seemed right that he pay for his insolence by being the first victim to be crushed beneath her sole.
Tiny limbs fought against the bottom of her foot, tickling the sadistic giantess's sensitive skin. Marcella wasn't laughing though. She was too angry at the man's complete lack of competence at every step of the way, and she'd spoken to him for no more than ten seconds!
The guards returned, and Marcella briefly considered stepping off of the little man, and crushing them instead. It would make crushing the blacksmith that much more sweet after all, as he'd have to experience it while being bathed in the blood and viscera of the only people that could save him. She could imagine his howls of despair at the cruel irony as his body was flattened beneath her ponderous weight.
Instead, she did nothing. Marcella preferred to let her victims experience total despair before their deaths, yes, but she could see it paying off so much more if she simply killed him. The guards would see a demonstration of her power in comparison to their meager abilities. They'd come to realize just how helpless they were in comparison.
Leaning forward slightly, Marcella placed more weight on the disgusting bug beneath her sole. Her sole yielded to his body for only the slightest moment, encasing him in an impossibly heavy blanket of flesh. Multiple tiny hands fought to free the trapped man, tickling the giantess with their efforts.
A bit more pressure. Bones could be felt and heard snapping underfoot, and Marcella felt a familiar warmth course through her veins. More weight was applied, and the bug's pained cries become more wet and muted. The people fighting to free the man backed off, and she decided that it was time to end the charade. There was an entire town to play with, and this worthless germ had taken up enough of her time.
Marcella stepped down completely. The little man's body exploded beneath her sole, but it was completely contained underfoot. With a quick gasp, she slid her foot back, painting a great red streak on the center of the road. A powerful euphoria rose up in Marcella, and she watched with barely-restrained glee as her intimidation tactics proved successful. Her former aggressors were now fleeing in terror, and Marcella wiggled the toes of her right foot. Why should her right foot have all the fun when she's got two perfectly capable feet? She needed to crush something with the left to even things up!
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Pandemonium. The small town was in an uproar over the appearance of a towering giantess with no regard for the pathetically small humans at her feet. She'd appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and was now making her way to the vast outdoor marketplace. News was slow to travel, meaning that they were still in the beginning stages of an evacuation as the ground began to rumble.
Marcella quickly reached the edge of the outdoor market, only now realizing just how huge it really was. She'd only skirted the outside of it when she'd interrogated that miserable man only a few minutes earlier.
The realization hit Marcella like a ton of bricks. She'd been a giantess before, but that had been purely business. This trip was for pleasure, and she truly began to appreciate her size. Only a few minutes ago she'd been standing amongst these pitiful pests. She'd considered her worth far above their own even at normal size, but now her stature matched that self-inflated worth.
Crouching down, she decided to get started. Huge fingers ripped up an entire produce stand and she opened her mouth widely. With a tilt of the palm, she let the contents roll into her mouth. Casually tossing the stand aside, she chewed, feeling the weak little fruits and vegetables pulp between the surfaces of her teeth. It was far from delicious, but it she needed to establish her power over the squirming people first.
With a powerful swallow, Marcella licked her lips, and sat down. She felt the familiar sensations of a handful of bodies crushing flat beneath her toned rear, and shivered at the sensation. These sorts of things were only possible as a giantess. Nowhere in real life could she cut a man or woman's life short by sitting down. At least, not without a great deal of smothering, and restraining a victim. It was utterly intoxicating, and she rubbed her bottom into the street for a moment, grinding the bodies beneath her flat.
Small people fled in every direction away from the giantess Marcella, but it was already too late. Looking rather unladylike, she stretched her legs out as far as she could, before crossing them back together. Dozens of innocent shoppers became trapped as those oversized legs closed in together. Their only crime was being too slow to escape, but that was more than enough for Marcella to justify wiping them out. The strong would have fought back, and gotten crushed as well. Or maybe they would have escaped, only for her to catch up later and wipe them out.
Exhaling lustily, Marcella scanned her eyes over the tiny people trapped between her legs. They milled about nervously, clearly able to see the many shining-red blood stains painting the giantess's fit, toned body.
It's been so long since I got to enjoy myself like this... Marcella said to no one in particular, but delighted when the entire crowd reacted negatively. But I've got to take care of my own needs first, and that means I'll be needing something to eat.
The crowd grew hushed, and looked up at her with wide, fearful eyes. Marcella drank in their fear as she lifted a finger to her lips, pretending like the idea already running through her mind hadn't come to her yet. She idly turned over a few carts, sending fruits, vegetables, and assorted meats tumbling to the ground.
So, who would like to volunteer? She asked silkily. The words dripped from her mouth like syrup, and the implication fell over her little crowd in waves. One by one they finally grasped the true meaning of her words, and chaos on a smaller scale erupted. People fought against her towering thighs, and feet in hopes that they'd escape with their lives.
No volunteers? Marcella growled in annoyance. She'd been expecting someone to step forth and take one for the team. Give their own life up to sate her mighty hunger, in exchange for the lives of everyone else. That didn't happen, so she began to search the crowds for a victim of her own choosing.
From such a grand height people had a tendency to blend together and look the same, but Marcella managed to pull one person out of the crowd visually. It was a small woman, with long, black hair. The color contrasted sharply with Marcella's own golden locks, and she slowly dipped her hand into the crowd, wrapping her fingers around the helpless woman's waist.
A man came up and grabbed at the woman's feet, trying to pull her back down out of Marcella's grasp. With a scowl, the giantess brought her other hand forward and slapped it down onto the ground. He crumpled like a dry twig beneath her palm, stoking the flames of her arousal.
The woman became hysterical as the man was crushed, and Marcella brought the little morsel up to her face. She was a classical beauty, and reminded her in some ways of her Mistress, the Lady Ranavalona. This made her pause for a moment, before filling her with a sort of indignant anger. What right did this woman have basing her appearance of someone as beautiful and powerful as her Mistress? What right indeed.
Opening her mouth open wide, Marcella quickly stuffed the woman inside. Shrill screams echoed around the inside of her mouth, but were ignored. The giantess's jaws snapped shut, sealing the woman in the dark, wet prison.
There was a burst of movement inside of Marcella's mouth as the woman's tiny hands and feet clawed against her tongue. Any attempts at attack were completely ineffectual, but did give Marcella an idea herself.
Swishing her tongue around the inside of her mouth, Marcella tossed her prey around in the darkness of her mouth. Though muted, she could make out the occasional snap as part of the little girl's body would find itself trapped between her tongue and one of the more firm surfaces inside of her mouth. Screams of panic devolved into pain-filled groans, and the struggling all but stopped as Marcella steadily broke apart the little girl with her games.
Without the slightest hint of remorse for her victim, Marcella tilted her head back, and let the girl fall into the back of her mouth. She didn't swallow on purpose. She wanted the snack to be fully aware that it was all involuntary muscles that carried her to her doom. Absolute despair is what she wanted the woman to feel, and desperately wished her magic had matured enough to know what the woman was feeling in her mouth.
Exercising her well-trained gullet, Marcella felt the sliver of meat fall into the back of her throat, and relaxed. Feathery-light touches ran down the sides of her esophagus as she felt her victim travel down the fleshy tube into her stomach. The trip was traced with an index finger from the outside, and Marcella gently gave her now-filled belly a pat.
She served me well. Marcella stated simply, rubbing her hand along her toned stomach. Truthfully, she could have gone for a couple dozen more of these miserable sacks of meat, but she resisted the urge for now. She watched the anarchy taking place in her leg-prison for a few moments longer, before suddenly feeling a new urge. Not a sexual urge, or a hunger urge. No, she felt a much more violent urge. An urge to destroy something important. An urge she could act on considerably easier with her new height.
In the distance she'd caught sight of a massive, beautiful mansion. Well, massive comparatively, as she estimated it'd only reach up to about half of her own massive height. Wiping the dust from her legs, she stood back to her feet, and stretched. She'd been thinking too small by only focusing on the little marketplace.
Activity at her feet caught Marcella's attention, and with a casual movement, she began to step onto the fleeing crowd. Crackling pops and the bursting of tiny bodies filled her with excitement, and after only a minute she'd crushed her entire crowd. They were inconsequential now, as she needed to take on something bigger, or she'd regret wasting her time as a giantess.
Cracking her knuckles, Marcella took her first slow step forward. A number of flimsy stands were converted to splinters from her weight, but she couldn't even pretend to care. Having a very one-tracked mind made her good at her jobs, and extra dangerous for any people in her path.
Hovels and carts alike were crushed beneath those huge, treading feet as the castle grew ever nearer. The closer Marcella got the more she felt her anger flare up. The rest of these people were living in small, insubstantial hovels, while those people got to live in the lap of luxury? For what reason? Financial superiority?
Leaving behind the smoking market, Marcella filled her mind with thoughts of what she'd do to the lord of this manor. She entertained thoughts of holding him between her oversized bosoms, and squeezing them together on him like a vice. Scared cries for help would be drowned out among the sea of flesh her sizable chest provided while any attempts at escape would be futile at best and an absolute joke at worst. She didn't want for them to enjoy their death however, and struck that thought from her mind almost immediately.
Marcella caught some more movement at her feet, and grinned as she spied a tiny horse and carriage fleeing the castle. With a slight readjustment of her steps, she trod upon the little vehicle, stopping to wiggle her toes on the much-larger carcass of the horse. She'd need to focus even more intently on her magic training when she returned. The feeling of being a giantess was simply too empowering.
Wiping her foot back, she continued forward. She'd made sure to stomp flat any stable she'd come across on her way over here. Any attempts at escape had to be quashed before they could even begin, and making it so there was no modes of transportation available seemed the best way to do that.
Finally, Marcella reached her goal. She stood before the gorgeous manor, and stopped to look back at the route she'd taken to get here. Huge, perfectly formed footprints dotted the town in a straight line. Some had red spots in them, while others were directly on top of buildings that looked awfully damaged from her brief appearance in them.
Pleased with what she saw, Marcella turned and delivered a devastating punch to the building's wooden facade. Stronger than any sort of conventional weaponry, her fist tore a huge hole into the structure. Pulling out her fist as quickly as she'd launched it ripped open the wall further, allowing the giantess quick access to the main chamber of the mansion.
Servants fled in every direction, but none were spared as Marcella grabbed at them with questing hands and simply squeezed them until they stopped cracking. Then they were discarded, so she could grab another just as quickly.
Marcella reveled in this. Archers came to the great chamber and aimed arrows into the great hole she'd created. They arrows bounced off her skin ineffectually, and she grit her teeth, before tearing the entire roof apart. Large chunks of the wooden beams cracked and collapsed, crushing more hapless individuals beneath them.
Carefully stepping over the walls, Marcella stepped directly into the main room of the miniature castle. Her feet carelessly trod upon a few more souls as she did so, but she'd quickly spotted her quarry. A man and woman were trembling in the back of the room. They realized they'd been spotted, and tried to make a break for it past the terrible giantess's bare feet.
Marcella watched them for a moment, and quickly crushed anyone extra still around. She wanted these two for herself. She'd long held a severe distaste for these sorts of people. Nobles. The type that would lord around their superiority while growing fat, and lazy. The type that would look down on herself and her Mistress for not wearing gaudy garments simply because they were made from the finest of fabrics.
The two were scooped up in one hand, and Marcella kicked down the wall she'd stepped over to get inside. With movements as casual as one of her great size could manage, she took a seat in their mighty yard, and looked her prey over intensely. The man was young, thin, but still had a certain air of smugness to him even in this panicked state. The woman was the very definition of a trophy wife. The type who'd married for power. Marcella could feel her hatred for these two bubble up inside of her. Yes, she made a regular deal of wiping out the helpless and innocent, but she'd never once pretended it was to help them. She let them know she got off on their deaths, and used them as she saw fit.
These two though. They were the type to take advantage of others and make it seem like they were doing people a favor. Behavior like that sickened the giant Paladin, who still had an unerring sense of honor, and loyalty, even if it was for a different Goddess than she'd originally signed on for.
Wasting no more time, Marcella pinched at the woman's oversized dress with two fingers. With a quick jerk of her wrist, the garment was ripped from her prey's body, leaving the woman thoroughly exposed. Her young husband sprung back to life, shielding her exposed form with his own, but a quick, annoyed flick caved in the man's ribs, knocking him away.
Collecting the little woman from her open palm, Marcella brought the insignificant beauty up to her face, and studied her eyes. She saw nothing but fear staring back at her in those tiny, glassy eyes, and opened her mouth slowly. Like a yawning chasm, Marcella's lips separated, bringing to light an excited tongue that darted from side to side. A blast of hot wind shot forth from that deadly pit, and the little woman's legs flailed about desperately as she attempted to free herself from the giant digits controlling her.
The man lying in Marcella's other palm shouted something to the dangling woman, and she seemed to acknowledge his statement. Marcella wasn't paying enough attention to either of them to find out what it was, but she was sure it was utterly inconsequential. Nothing they could have said or done could possibly stop what she had in mind anyway, so why waste time dwelling on it?
With slow, deliberate positioning, Marcella set the diminutive victim atop her bottom lip. She let go, and the woman fell forward, trying to get a good grip as she hugged the giant, moist lip she'd landed on. To one side was a tremendous drop down to the giantess's blood-stained feet. On the other, the hot, humid hell of the cruel woman's mouth. Wet tears streamed from her face onto the lip, but Marcella was more interested in the leg dangling inside of her mouth, which she began to close.
No! Please! Spare me!
Marcella couldn't resist any longer. She smiled. The woman was close enough to be heard now, and she sounded like an absolute wreck. She'd lost her mind, and was frantically pleading the giant murderess for mercy. With a pleased sigh, Marcella bit down ever so slightly, feeling one of her victim's legs meet with her own teeth.
I've done nothing wrong! I'll give you anything you want! Money! Power! Please!
Marcella bit down. The woman's leg severed at the knee, and her screams rose a pitch in volume. A pained wail came from the man in her open palm, and she began to chew the little chunk of flesh she'd acquired. It didn't taste particularly good, but breaking down a victim was the satisfying part. It was like drinking a fine wine, aged to perfection.
Jerking her head back suddenly, Marcella gulped loudly and exaggeratedly, sending the woman's ruined leg down to her stomach. It was quick, and the movement was severe enough to cause the comparatively miniature woman to lose her grip, and fall the great height from Marcella's mouth to her feet.
She hit the ground with a sickening thud. Marcella didn't even give her a second look as she moved a bare foot over the writhing woman, and stomped her flat. With that single step, the noblewoman joined the souls of those she once lorded over in becoming another red streak on the giantess's sole.
The sun was beginning to set, and Marcella stared at the smoldering town with contempt. She'd rather not be forced to spend the night in this wretched little town. With a slow, gentle movement, she dropped the little man in her other palm onto the grass in front of her, and drew her feet back.
Wake up. She ordered, nudging him with her index finger. His body flopped around, and he looked up at the giantess with a blank expression. His arms and legs were spread apart, and a red stain was beginning to form over his clothing where he'd been flicked earlier. Your trophy wife is gone. I crushed her like a feeble worm beneath my foot. she said flatly, moving her big toe over the little man's face.
Kiss the foot that ended her life, and brought your town to shambles, and I may give you a mercifully quick death. She said, while pressing her fleshy big toe down. An uneasy silence fell over the scene as he made no movement, and Marcella's expression began to change from expectant to anger. I am not a woman to be trifled with. Submit to your superior or face a torturous end. She added, her voice tinged with anger.
Still, he refused to submit.
With an exasperated sigh, Marcella simply moved her right big toe away from the man's face, and placed it onto one of his legs. With a quick movement, she did the same with her left big toe, pinning both of his legs to the ground. Then, reaching forward with both hands, she pinched his small arms, and began to pull.
Have you ever witnessed someone being quartered? She asked, as she began to pull all four of the man's limbs apart at once. It's fascinating, really. Their limbs only have so much give before bones start slipping out of their sockets... She continued, before tugging on the man's limbs firmly. All at once the little man sprung to life, twisting his head from side to side as he screamed in pain. Grotesque bulges at his shoulders and waist confirmed that Marcella had done as she'd just stated, and her lips curled into a cruel smile.
That's usually as far as the typical executioner can pull. Marcella stated, holding the man's grossly extended limbs in position. I'm far beyond typical though, as you can plainly see, so I can do something a little more like... this. She said, and pulled his right arm completely out of its socket. It remained firmly attached to his torso through stretched skin though, giving the limb a malformed, stretched look. In the span of a second this once-handsome young man took on a more monstrous appearance.
While I'm sure that was quite painful, it's not, well... bloody enough for me. She said as she casually sliced his left arm from his shoulder with her fingernail. Blood began to spurt from the horrifying wound immediately, and the man was hyperventilating now.
If you'd done as you were told I could have ended it quickly. I could have simply trod upon you like a piece of garbage, and you'd have flattened in an instant. She said, before pressing down with her toes and flattening both of his legs at the same time. Her victim was now coughing and throwing up blood-tinged vomit.
That would have been the end of it. I'd have left, and you'd have become someone else's problem. She reminisced, before moving her feet away from his legs, and standing back up to her full, impressive height. For your insolence, you can spend your final waking moments in a pain-filled hysteria. I'm sure some of my previous victims would have envied you, and it's more than you deserve, but I've had my fill of this place and intend to leave.
Dusting off her legs, Marcella began to walk away, leaving the broken little man in his hellish state. Any attempt he made to move only reignited the pain his body was in, and he watched as the beautiful, cruel giantess walked away. He cursed at her as she left, but she'd never hear it. He was gone from her memory as soon as she'd turned away, and left the town.
With a deep, loud yawn, Marcella made her way back home, leaving behind a devastated town. She still felt a tad guilty about losing the shoes, but at least the walk back would be considerably easier with her massively increased stature.
A sudden glimpse of movement drew Marcella's eyes down to her feet again. A man was fleeing her on a horse, and moving rather slowly. Figuring there was time for one more bit of fun, she gave the horse a light tap, launching the riding man from it's back, and restraining a laugh as the horse quickly righted itself and dashed off.
Wanting to feel one more body crush beneath her toes, Marcella slipped her foot over the little man, and began to press down. The feeling of his body fighting against her sole was as nice as it had always been, and she knew she'd miss this size once it was gone.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind that Marcella began to shrink rapidly. With a sensation akin to falling from a great height, she shrunk down to her normal, six-foot height. Disappointedly exhaling, she pressed her bare foot onto the man's throat while she fished the sphere out from the myriad of pockets her outfit contained.
Feeling hot to the touch, Marcella wrapped her fingers around the ball and began to repeat the incantation again. She was rather fond of this trinket's abilities, and hoped she'd be allowed more time to use it on her own terms in the future. Who knows what she could terrorize next time? There was a village that her Mistress, the Lady Ranavalona had complained about ruining her skyline from time to time. Maybe she could pay them a visit at her new, massive size?
The iron ball began to emit that white smoke again, and Marcella breathed it in. Then, with a sudden, greasy pop, the ball exploded! Shimmering, glittering dust fell rained around her and was scattered in the wind.
Marcella's eyes grew wide for the briefest of moments, before she fell back to her typical response of anger. Lifting her foot up, she slammed it down onto the horseman's face, and felt it cave in from the pressure. It did little to ease her anger though, and she looked around for something else to take her frustrations on.
There was no one around in any direction. She was normal-sized, shoeless, and had effectively scared off the last hope she had at transportation. Being short-sighted and singularly minded was of great benefit to her when she was given a task to complete, but unfortunately it could also lead her to the kind of situation she now found herself in. Nothing but a miles-long walk awaited her. She had no artifact to show for it, and she'd lost the gift she'd been given before heading out. While she trusted her Mistress wouldn't punish her despite these problems, she felt her ego utterly deflate. A minute ago she was on top of the world, but now.... Now...
Grumbling under her breath, she took the first step of thousands. She wouldn't get anywhere if she just stood around.
Giantess World
