“Good night, little bro,” Carly murmurs. Her lips hover an inch from your body, the warmth of her words coupled with the stickiness of her breath. Hot, wet air and the aroma of strawberry pie floods your senses as she leans over you in her bed. “Sleep tight.”

            “You too,” you answer as you snuggle into the purple sock chosen as your bed for this particular night on the bedside table. In the darkness, you lean up, until your face is planted into your enormous sister’s puckered lips.

            The kiss nearly sucks your head inside the cavernous maw, but loosens, until Carly is gently tonguing your face in full, slurping and pecking at your neck and chest. Heavenly, as always. The exchange of fluids is a given.

            Even after she’s pulled away from you with a last drag of her drool across your chest, you lie awake in the peaceful silence. The all-encompassing promise of that kiss laid upon you night after night means more than she could ever possibly know. Comfortable in yourself, and only more so with every passing day after your revelation a few months back, you drift into dreams truer to your subconscious than reality could ever be:

            Wind hits your face and knocks you down to the hardwood kitchen floor, flat on your back, as the upper torso of your gigantic fourteen-year-old sister rushes down from high in the air. You dry swallow, desperately trying to collect yourself. Before she can.

            The mammoth visage of Carly crouches right over you, her impossible scale now plainer than ever before, her billboard-sized face bearing down on you. Her smile quickly dissipates into a look of confusion and curiosity. A hand reaches up toward her face and, using fingers each longer than your body, swoops her hair out of her face to get a better look.

            “Carly!” you yell.

            Your sister’s face remains unchanged, staring down at you. Perhaps she’s in shock too. You wouldn’t blame her, either. It’s incredible what you can see from here. Even though Carly’s so young, at this size you can make out thin ghosts of laugh wrinkles formed around her eyes, the sheen of gloss coating her lips, the flicker of individual eyelashes. Through her partially opened mouth you can make out her ivory teeth, large and thick enough to chew apart a safe door. Every fiber of her skin on her cheeks and everywhere on her face is visible, moving ever so slightly as she inhales slowly.

            “Carly?” you repeat uncertainly, still scared. You blink a few times, then try to sit up, but realize you’re still surrounded in a puddle of rain, so you slip back down into the flat position on the ground, ramming your tailbone. You gulp a few times more. “Carly? It’s me. It’s Jack,” you say unintelligently.

            Carly’s lips move, reflecting light off her lip gloss. “Jack?” she gapes, and her mouth twists into a smile. It’s not a grin of victory and malice like normal, so that’s something.

            “Yeah…” you say, letting the word trail off.

            “What…” she starts to say, arching her eyebrows. She doesn’t finish her sentence.

            Out of the corner of your eye, you see her massive left hand rushing toward you. You flail your limbs for a moment, but it’s of no use. An instant later a wall of flesh is bearing down on you, her muscular fingers, almost as thick as your body, curling downward. Her palm, soft and cool, presses down onto your torso, burying your dick in the thickness of her hand flesh at your size. Her fingers slide with surprising gentleness around your arms and legs, curling back around and tightening. You feel a sense of security surrounding you as the wet, rainy ground underneath you is replaced with the cool, plush fingers of your massive sister, pressing into your back and legs with unexpected care.

            The ground falls away as you are lifted into the air, the comforting, smooth feeling of hand flesh pressed firmly but gently onto every square inch of your naked form. In spite of yourself, you almost want to fall asleep, so drastic was the change from freezing rain and mud to the comforting apparent safety of your sister’s hand.

            Your head swims as you rise higher and higher up into the stratosphere of the kitchen. Your eyes water at the sudden change in altitude. Clearing them, you find yourself at eye level with your sister, her hand still wrapped snugly around your body. Your breathing begins to slow, and your heart rate drops as you are almost instantly calmed by the comforting and evidently capable grip of your little sister.

            The staring match continues a little longer, your body temperature already regulating again as her fist begins to warm up, providing your frozen little form with heat from the massive generator of her gargantuan, skyscraper-like body.

            “C-C-Carly…” you say out loud, unsure of where to start. The explanation for what’s going on? The plea for her to get you medical attention? The suggestion that she ensure she hangs on to you tightly to avoid a death plunge? Your mind almost goes blank. Could there even exist a logical place to begin? You can’t help but sympathize with her constantly shifting expression.

            Carly’s eyes widen, her pupils dilating. Her smile widens, the few freckles surrounding her eyes and nose bobbing as she does so. “Jack… you’re… you’re… like, two inches tall!”

            “I… I know…”

            “What happened to you?”

            “I don’t know! Please, Carly… please. I need you to do something, call mom and dad, call the hospital. Something. I… don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you say finally, though, in spite of yourself, you can’t help but already imagine your current reality isn’t going to be altered much with the application of known science. Certainly not the science you know. Still, it seems rational to look for help somewhere.

            “Yeah, yeah, okay…” she mumbles. Air whips your face and you float a little in her hand as she takes a step, but then stops in her tracks. She turns her fist around again to look at you.

            “Now, wait a minute, Jack…” she says, as if all of this was completely natural.

            “What is it, Carly?”

            “Jack, let’s just slow down…”

            “Um.. s-sure,” you utter. In a past life: as in, perhaps fifteen minutes ago, your heart would’ve already been racing at the mere suggestion. Slow down? At a time like this? Has she lost her mind? But something in your heart tells you to take pause instead of scream.

            “Jack…” she drawls, swallowing a lump in her throat. Her fingers turn about you as she pulls you nearer to her face.

            “P-Please be careful,” you croak, growing fearful again despite the fact that you have physical safety in Carly’s now-warm fist.

            “I will,” she promises, and somehow, you believe her. Carly tilts her head a little, pursing her lips in quiet thought, cocking her eyebrows as she studies you. “Are you all right?”

            “Carly, look at me,” you mumble. “I’m tiny. I don’t know what’s wrong and we have to do… something!”

            “Okay, okay. Calm down. We’ll do… something…” Her words are so steady and soothing, even in this moment of bizarre crisis. It’s tempting to go along with it.

            “Okay. T-Thank you.”

            “Of course,” she states. Carly’s broad lips crack a smile as she examines your miniature face peeping out of her soft fist. “What, you think I’m not going to help my brother?”

            “I d-didn’t know…” you admit sheepishly, the shame of your past sins all coming to call at once. And in a much smaller body, no less, with nowhere to store the guilt but on your face.

            You blackmailed the girl over a cell phone picture. That’s an elephant in the room that can’t be helping matters now, even though at this size, to you, Carly looks like she could punt an elephant across the county with just one swing of her bare foot.

            “You mean cuz of earlier?” she questions dryly. “The stuff you made me do?”

            “Y-Yeah,” you gulp, unsure how to proceed without making a misstep, especially with so much at stake. “I don’t really know what to say.”

            She shrugs, her fingers rewrapping themselves around you. It’s almost to remind you her digits still have your life clasped into her clammy palm, your legs and arms pinned to your sides, and your dick wedged shamefully into the crevice between her finger flesh.

            “Why don’t you try?” she suggests.

            “Okay. Okay,” you sigh. That seems reasonable, though you don’t have the first clue of where to start still. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Carly. Like, I’m really, really fucking sorry.”

            Her eyes bulge at your dropping of that linguistic bomb, her fingers trembling and lips drawing open.

            “…and I’m sorry to say that in front of you like that, but like, I don’t care, because… I’m just… ugh. I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

            “You took advantage of me,” Carly points out meekly. Her voice displays surprising vulnerability for a girl who has her older brother squeezed shrunken and naked in the palm of her hand at this particular moment, but it’s there nonetheless.

            “I did. And… it probably doesn’t sound right coming from me, now, when I obviously need… someone to do something,” you say. You clear your throat, at last finding the grain of genuine feeling you required in all of this madness. Your voice cracks with the raw honesty of putting your discoveries out in the air, but you soldier on. “I realize I’m asking you to take care of me, when… I didn’t take care of you earlier. And whether or not you want to forgive me for that now, all I’m saying is I’m sorry, from the bottom of my heart.”

            The crystalline blue in your giant sister’s eyes seems almost to twinkle. Not with the usual scheming you recognize in them when she’s about to stick your homework down the garbage disposal or plant her cold bare foot on your cheek. Rather, you see a spark of something just as genuine as what you’re pouring out.

            Though you’ve always looked upon the girl as a kid, and indeed, she was one a mere two years before, but somehow, in this instant, you don’t see her as the tweenage brat any more. Maybe it’s the previously unobserved details in her face, maybe it’s her sheer damn scope, but whatever it is, it’s allowing your pulse to lower back to normal for the first time since the bolt of lightning reduced you to this diminutive joke of an organism.

            Wrong as everything feels, in this precise moment, you feel a dramatic sense of calm as you’re clenched naked and helpless into your younger sibling’s palm. Perhaps like none you’ve ever felt before.

            With a start, you feel her powerful fingers shifting around your back, her plush flesh smushing as it brushes across your bare backside. You’re repositioned until your body is flushed against Carly’s palm, exposed as her fingers slide away and draw you closer to her face.

            You’re shocked, certainly, but not altogether displeased as the teen’s moist lips are shoved into your entire face. Kiss after kiss is laid on your head, rapidfire, her wet mouth pulling away just as soon as it’s there and stringing saliva across your neck.

            When at last the pecking session is through, Carly pulls away, wiping the hair from her forehead, and you realize that twinkle in her blue eyes has turned to the glisten of a tear.

            You can tell a wall is being torn down now between you. You’re seeing a version of her you’ve never witnessed before. And it’s not just because she’s large enough to pop you in her mouth like a sour patch kid.

            “Thank you,” she breathes. “For saying all that, Jack.”

            “Well, I meant every word. You don’t have to believe me now, but-”

            “I want to,” she says earnestly.

            “Good,” you insist. “Listen, I’m not saying… it’s all your fault, but we do… go after each other a lot. For… I see now, for stupid things. Things that made sense maybe when we were like six years old, but not now. And I’m sorry, too, for my part in that,” you continue, selecting every word carefully and placing it with singular assurance into your delicate sentences.

            For a moment you just observe one another, seeing each other in new lights well beyond the mere novelty of now being a colossus-and-cricket by comparison to one another. Carly wipes a knuckle over her damp eyes, forcing on another smile even warmer than the last.

            “Sorry about… um…” she sighs, wrinkling her nose as she looks upon your full exposed body in her palm for perhaps the first time since she picked you up. Looking down, you realize just how much moisture she slaked across your head during the thankful kisses, as the goop trickles down your neck and chest. Her eyes boggle wider.

            “Right,” you choke, cringing up and throwing your hands over your crotch for the first time. An especially thick drop of  her lip gloss-tainted drool seeps down the bridge of your nose. “Don’t worry about it.”

            “You’re, um…” Carly mutters. With her free hand, she prods at the corner of her mouth. “You’re naked.”

            “Y-Yeah,” you cough, more humiliated now than you were during the initial panic, now that the basics of human reconciliation are in motion. “Sorry about that. My clothes… sort of fell off when this… happened.”

            “It’s okay,” she says, a little quicker than either of you was expecting. There’s that half-smile in the corner of her lip again as her gaze flashes between your puny legs. Is that amusement? “I don’t mind.”

            “G-Good,” you say, breathless now. Somehow it feels less imperative you keep your hands in place over your nethers, though you do it anyway, to maintain some level of social normalcy. “S-So… maybe we should… um… call somebody about this, or-”

 “No,” comes Carly’s voice at last, gentle and knowing.

Something inside your skull is changing at a molecular level. A deep subconscious part of you wants to lash out at her: the part that couldn’t see her as anything more than a fourteen-year-old bitch yesterday. You’re in a potentially life threatening position and she’s locked into her smug self-assurance as ever.

Yet you’re still not moved to act. The wilderness of whatever curtain of reality you’re both peeking behind now is almost beyond your comprehension, and you can’t even sum up the words.

“Oh.” It’s all you can manage.

Around your helpless form, you feel the warm, creamy walls of flesh shifting yet again. You suck in your stomach and convulse your muscles instinctively as your sister’s fingers begin to compress in on you, expecting at an animal level for the pressure to build.

But it doesn’t. The cushy pad of flesh surrounding her palm and fingers press inward, giving way to the robust and pulsing muscles of Carly’s fingers, but not so much that they inflict pain or even discomfort. You moan audibly in weariness and tension release, her fingers softening and flexing as your naked form leans into the pad of her palm. Despite yourself, you can feel your member being tugged between Carly’s middle and fourth fingers, into the fleshy space, and tingling in warning before it firms.

Though the angle is awkward, you catch a smile pinching the corners of her mouth. Her fingers grind just a little faster than before, so easily allowing you to hump two of her fingers without it seeming like anything more than a result of crossing distance. Is she… on purpose?

“You’re shaking,” Carly notes as she pads evenly into the living room and lowers herself daintily onto the couch, apparently cognizant of your wellbeing on every step. “Are you afraid of me?”

“I… I was. When I first saw you,” you admit with a swallow. You gaze up at her face in what you soon realize is yearning. For her, this moment, and everything it represents to have your helpless little body plastered between her firm fingers and still have it all feel so content. “But not now.”

 “You’re never going to have to feel like that again. Afraid, I mean,” she says, and the hairs on your body stand on end as you watch a loving smile cross her long lips. “Never again, little boy,” she adds kindly, and the words “little boy” falling naturally from her mouth and just as naturally into your ears. It feels comfortable, somehow. Correct, if ever anything ever was.

If there really is a God, you suppose you now have the most definitive proof in human history that he works in mysterious ways.