Needs

Apparently, being 10 miles tall and having super powers has not done anything to get me rid of my womanly needs. I find out more or less at the same time as the rest of the world, as my stomach groans. I guess it must have sounded stronger than a thunderstorm for the people in Vegas.

So, I need to eat. Which means that I will need to drink too. And well, I’ll need to do other stuff as well. I’m certain that I will have “other needs” too, but I will take care of them later. With Carlson’s Peak gone, I will need to find myself a good substitute.

Another loud groan tells me that there is something I need to take care of first. The question is obvious: how does someone my size get fed?

I think about the possibility of shrinking myself a little bit once more, in order to make eating more manageable. I discard it again. I just made myself a throne…and I want to use it. Besides, being 10 miles tall feels really neat.

I stand up and take another look at Vegas. It’s easy enough to reach the conclusion that nothing short of a large city will do the trick for me. Of course, I’m not going to touch Vegas. I just declared it my capital.

I’m not too concerned about finding myself another city. After all, I should be able to cover great distances in really no time. I just need to decide which way to move. I vaguely remember that Phoenix should be somehow to the south, so that’s where I head to.

I’m standing next to a large metropolis about five minutes later. I have no way of knowing if it’s actually Phoenix, but it will do nicely, anyway. The city is definitely larger than Vegas. I estimate that it must be as wide as I am tall, which makes it pretty impressive. Nothing on it can stand much taller than my toes, in any case.

I’m not too concerned for the wellbeing of the city’s buildings and populations, so I get quite closer than I did to my new capital. Some of the suburbs disappear under my soles as I do so, but from up above, it’s hard to consider anything that is not densely packed as consequential.

An indeterminate number of buildings crumble in their foundations when I drop into my knees, but I guess this could not be avoided. I ignore the fact and bat my eyelashes, trying to focus on the action at street level.

I have the best eyesight ever. That’s the only reason I’m finally able to make up individual people once I focus, since each of them is smaller than a speck of dust. My long hair is wreaking havoc in a large section of the city but I ignore that as I keep focusing on the packed streets right under my cute nose, delighted that even at my geological scale I can finally make out real people.

Needless to say, I love their reaction to me. I guess I’m not even a giant to them now. I am something else, taking everything around them, like a combination of God and Mother Nature.

My stomach groans once more. I can only guess how deafening that must have sounded for the people in the city. I don’t care. Without warning, I just open my lips in an “O” and start sucking.

 It’s amazing to see how people suddenly become airborne and forcefully fly straight into my mouth! Well, not only people. Cars, buses and 18-wheelers follow their path and join them right between my teeth!

Adjusting my head’s position ever so lightly, I get a few thousand more people to follow the fate of the initial group. It tickles. And it encourages me to let myself go. Unrestrained, the power of my lungs gets completely unleashed. It’s not only people getting drag into me, anymore. Soon, houses and high-rises start getting ripped from their foundations and their pieces fly into my open mouth just the same.

I wonder for an instant whether I should be able to digest glass, steel and concrete, but I discard the question for its irrelevance. I’m past the ability to pick people apart from their constructions so if I want them in, I’ll have to take their cities too. It looks like a fair enough trade off.

I stop a second, in order to swallow, and then observe the consequences of my antics. I’ve turned the section of the city right under my face into a wasteland, so it’s time to expand my area of influence. All it takes is some movement from my neck.

I’m getting fed, but at the same time I’m thoroughly encouraging the way I’m doing it. It’s wildly amazing to be able to suck a city in as if I were some sort of cosmic vacuum cleaner. I can only guess how spectacular and terrifying this might feel to anyone observing me.

Excited as I am, I let myself go some more and stick my tongue out of my mouth. Bringing my head down, I “lick” the city, bringing an entire neighborhood in. It feels great, so I just repeat the operation thrice, turning a third of the former city into a sticky, hot swamp.

Licking is fun, but sucking is more effective, so I switch back to the vacuum cleaner mode and proceed to methodically drag the city in. I’m done sooner than I expected.

Sitting on my knees, I pat my tummy and let out a loud belch. I guess I must have been heard in Europe. I wonder what they will think of my manners, but since there is no way they will be able to tell me, I don’t worry too much.

“THAT WAS NOT TOO BAD” I say aloud, kind of proud of having eaten an entire metropolis for breakfast.

Somehow, concrete and steel feel raspy in my throat and I know that I need to take a drink right after the meal, to wash everything down. I’m not too concerned about that. At this size, eating felt like a bigger challenge than drinking, so I just stand up and look for a source of water.

I find a body of water that looks reasonably big soon enough. It takes me three steps to get there. The lake is about my size, which means that it should contain enough water to satiate me. The bigger challenge is actually being able to crouch low enough to bring my mouth into its surface. This unavoidably ends up with my tits doing some massive geological renewal, but I couldn’t care less about it.

Once my lips touch the cool water surface, I start sucking once more and feel millions of gallons of water running down my throat and washing down the remainders of what once was one of the largest metro areas in the country.

By the time I’m done, I’ve drank about a third of the lake’s capacity.

I sit back on my knees and moan, this time of pretty mundane pleasure. I’m fed and have taken care of my thirst. I’m ready for a new day. A new wonderful day as the new Goddess of Earth.

The question comes kind of naturally: what should I do? I’m pretty sure that by now everyone in the world should have already accepted the undeniable truth: I’m the Goddess of Earth, the one and only ruler of this planet and all its population. The truth, though, is that I have actually not formally taken over anything, yet.

I had kind of planned to take over the city after I finished playing with it, yesterday, but I ended up destroying it completely before that could happen. I’d rather not risk the same thing with the planet. I’m large and powerful enough that taking over should not take that long. Maybe I should devote the morning to that and then indulge a little in the afternoon and maybe do some sightseeing.

Yes, let’s do that. I’m not a formal girl, but sometimes things need to be done formally, especially those that involve ruling billions of people.

I stand up. I realize that I rushed a little too much when a tiny explosion ensues on top of my right breast. My adrenaline goes up in an instant, thinking that I might be being attacked once more. There are no more explosions after a few seconds, though, which makes me discard the idea (besides the fact that I expect people has already learned that attacking me would be utterly stupid).

I’m kind of puzzled by the situation until I notice the tiny mites around me, more or less level with my chest. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize that they are jetliners.

Commercial planes fly lower than my boobs! I cannot prevent a giggle.

My eyes start scanning my surroundings and soon set on the biggest of the puny insects flying around me. It’s about the size of a mosquito. I stoop to bring my eyes closer to it and smile widely when I observe its puniness from up close.

I can clearly distinguish the different parts of the craft, even if it’s not even half an inch long. I see its wings, its four engines, the popular hunchback… I’m not an expert in planes, but I know this is one of those that are used for very long intercontinental trips. I’ve flown a couple of times in the top floor of planes like this, since my agency started booking business class tickets for me.

In an effort to have as good a look as possible, I’ve brought my face pretty close to the craft. It’s amazing to see how it barely seems to be moving, right in front of my eyes, even if I know that planes like this one are supposed to be fast.

Then, something unexpected happens. Despite my size, I know I’m still breathing. And somehow, the soft exhalation of my lungs as I do seem to be not so soft from the perspective of human-sized aircraft. Suddenly, the insect-sized plane loses control and I see as it starts spiraling around.

Don’t misunderstand me: I don’t give a damn for the five hundred or so people in the plane. I’ve just eaten ten thousand times that number for breakfast. I just don’t like things happening that I don’t want to. And, up to a point, what happened with the plane could be considered clumsiness on my side.

My first instinct is to pinch the plane with two fingers, but I stop myself in time. I know there is only one possible outcome out of that.

The plane needs to drop 7 miles to the ground below, so I have some time to think. An idea comes to mind and I smile as I reach out with a single digit. Then, being as careful as a mountain-sized person can be, I maneuver my finger and scoop the plane gently in the space between my fingernail and my fingertip.

I know this probably has not been as gentle for the people inside as it has been for me, but the fact that I managed to complete the operation without destroying the plane is utterly impressive.

Having been so good at capturing the plane has made me proud but has opened a new problem: what should I do with it?

Tossing it away or just breaking it would feel a little anticlimactic, after all the “effort” I put into trying to save it in the first place. And I’m sure as hell that I’m not going to be carrying the jetliner in my fingertip as I tour around the world.

The answer comes to me naturally. I bring my finger closer to my face, as if the passengers could see me, and I address them with a voice that I guess must sound as if the sky had opened up for God to address humanity (which is not so far from truth).

“I BELIEVE YOUR PLANE HAS SOME ISSUES TO FLY, BUT DON’T WORRY. I’LL CARRY YOU TO YOUR DESTINATION MYSELF”

Then I unloop one of my earrings with my free hand, set the white gold loop right next to the lane and use a teeny fraction of my eyes’ power to melt both pieces of metal. Once done, I just bring the earring back in place.

I have no idea whether the plane and its occupants will manage to survive the rigors of travelling with me, but if a pressurized tube with seatbelts and oxygen masks doesn’t do the trick, nothing will. Considering this, I guess it’s worth a try.

Happy with what I have just accomplished, I straighten back up and turn towards my destination. I’m not too sure about where Washington DC is. I don’t need to be too precise, though. I just need to walk in the general direction of the East Coast and fine tune a little bit once I’m about to get there.