NAKED HOLOCAUST III

I blame my dick. I was present when Amanda opened her eyes, on that fateful morning of September 23rd.. It was a warm day in the making, the last two weeks having been unusually hot for the season and  the temperature was already very pleasant. That’s my official explanation of why I was there on that terrace, enjoying an early coffee and croissant. The other reason I give was my being prone to insomnia, and in fairness I’d been up three hours before, desperately waiting for the trendy coffee-shop terrace to open). This particular place had been pretty popular of late. Slightly above the sleeping giantess, you could enjoy a sweeping view of the enormous lying body. Amanda was a looker, no doubt about it, and even with the tarpaulins covering her in parts, the view was simply staggering and I, like many guys, could not get enough of the sightseeing. The amplified female form was both totally humbling. in its dormant  power, and totally …fascinating in its overwhelming nakedness. The first rays of  the rising sun was colouring the blond river of her hair in rosy tones, and the vast expanse of her belly looked warm and tanned under the razing light. Like I said, coffee was just accessory.

Obviously this sight was by then no longer a privilege of our little town. All around the world similar and at times much vaster human landscapes had peppered the surface of the planet. Wherever you were, you weren’t far from one of them. The impact of their arrival was just beginning to register on the fabric of our world. The displacement of a large part of the population (young and female) towards the countryside, the constant presence of the military, the vast re-construction effort and organisation surrounding the damaged communities all over the world were the first sign that a struggle was starting between us and , well, them. But what really came to the surface is the general sense of unease and fear that took mankind in its fold. The absurdity of the situation, the incommensurable forces at play in our world, the total mystery we lived in, all contributed to this pre-war feeling we all experienced.
The threat was all the more frightening, that it lay there right in front of us, dormant, peaceful, and yet incredibly powerful. The “births” had stopped for a month already and we were able to bathe in the unease now, after the onslaught of the panic had subsided (quite a few cases were recorded of lynching  of women who had ventured in unfriendly communities). A sign of this malaise, would be seen among couples: falling asleep near your loved one, you could not escape the thought that she could potentially start growing during the night. What if you were caught off guard? Marital beds suddenly emptied all over the world.
The presence of the giant bodies all around the world was so palpable, we all felt their weight was already on our shoulders, so to speak. That’s probably why, when Amanda woke up, there was in the air a feeling of relief: the wait was over. We were about to know.

It is James who saw her first. A good colleague and friend , we often came together to gaze at the sleeping beauty, speculating together over the meaning of her presence, or commenting more mundane matters. I remember seeing him looking being my back with a fixed stare. Then his hand started to shake, spilling coffee on his morning shirt.
“You OK, James?”
“Don’t look now, he said, but I think she’s looking at us” he said .
I chuckled to that. He must have spotted a girl we knew. “Who is it?” I said with a wink.
“Amanda Singles” He put a shaking coffee mug on the table.

I turned round and looked into the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen. And they were looking indeed straight at us. I jumped on my feet and ran to the  handrail that safe-guarded our rooftop. The first shouts started to rise in the city.
Amanda Singles was awake, hey eyes were scanning the building in front of her. She did not move a muscle and no expression came over her face. She was obviously just awakening, maybe not registering the landscape around her. In the rosy morning light, the exposed contours of her face seemed to shine with a silver lining.

“OOOOOhhhh” came the collective murmur when her face turned upward, and the eyes seemed to blink for the first time. To watch Amanda sleep was something quite breathtaking, to see the sudden motion of the enormous face was quite a shock. I was nearly used to the idea she was some sort of static prop in our city.
But when her arm moved, detaching itself from the rubble it had created a few months ago, and rising high  into the air like a giant crane, bringing her hand to rest on her brow, pushing aside tons of shiny blond hair, well, I guess then the full awareness of her living breathing presence suddenly hit all of us with  a feeling of absolute awe and the first stirrings of uncontrollable fear.

She remained for a few more minutes without moving, her folded arm resting on her brow, as she seemed to blink and consider the sky and gaze at the passing clouds. Down below, in her vicinity, the first movements were visible. Officers were shouting orders, firemen were running to their stations, mixed currents formed among the early passers-by, some running away, other timidly approaching. Red and blue lights started to flash in the shadows of the nearby streets.  I observed all this, transfixed, my mind in a turmoil, not knowing whether to applaud or to run. I was ware this was a turning point , a momentous event I was witnessing,  and a strong and nearly childish excitement was gaining me. This was Christmas, Halloween and the King Arthur legends all in one wrap. Magic was there.

James stepped backwards with me and the rest of the crowd when the giant chest started to rise. Amanda had propped her elbows on the rubble below, and cracking, breaking, and splintering noises accompanied the slow ascension of the majestic head in the glorious morning light, along with shouts from the crowd below. When she fully sat on the destroyed shopping mall, her arms around her raised knees, her head was already just below the level of our terrace. She remained there, coolly looking around here, as if shaking the remains of her dreams.
The tarpaulin that was covering her breasts slid down in a crumpled heap in her lap. A man standing next to me even let out a wolf-whistle.
We stared at her renewed stature, just sitting, she was dwarfing even more the little guys surrounding her at floor level, tiny dolls around her naked legs and bottom.
“Amanda!! Look here!! Hey!!” my heart jumped. This was James. He was laughing  and waving at her, leaning on the handrail.
“Stop it you idiot” I said, slapping him on the head. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“hey man, come on, have you ever seen anything more beautiful? I can die a happy man.” He was like a kid at the fun fair. I confess I shared the feeling, but with something else at the pit of my stomach.

She did not move for about two hours, simply staring leisurely at the urban landscape around her. She sometimes seemed to look at the men around her, but her face was a mask of serenity and calm, as if all of this was just perfectly acceptable to her. She did not try to touch anything…or anyone.

After a while the traffic in the streets around were chaotic, many newscars, police cars and army vehicles, pushing they way slowly through the congested streets. Half the town had awoken to the news and was converging towards the mall and its unique attraction.

It had been expressed many times that Amanda Singles, as well as the other women affected by the phenomenon, had little chance of survival. How the huge body seemed to remain intact in spite of total lack of food and water supply, and the simple work of gravity, was already a miracle. Also, it had been pointed out that if a consciousness had survived the initial growth, it would be now totally diluted in the enormous proportions of the brain, and that all the neural connections that make up one’s personality, were probably lost in the event. Amanda Single was probably long gone.
The being in front of us did not seem stupid at all. Her eyes weren’t vaguely roaming around, no drool was showing on the luscious lips. No incoherent sounds were coming from the vast throat. We were looking at a young woman peacefully enjoying the first hours of the morning, with a calm and composed face. Only her lack of interest for the chaos under her seemed to point towards something… odd. As for me, well, I was in love.

The two men that came close to her from her right were walking cautiously. Out of fear possibly, but also because they were encumbered with portable loud-speakers, some sort of camera and other paraphernalia. I recognised one of them. Frank Dooley. The man had become famous at the same time as his girlfriend. The other man was some army officer apparently. I ordered another coffee to a grumbling waiter and observed what would be known as the First Contact.

“Amanda! Amanda Singles!! Can you hear me?” came the amplified metallic voice. The two men stood a few meters off the young woman right thigh.
I expected no reaction, personally. I thought she’d would just ignore those gnats and keep looking around. But no, she immediately lowered her gaze to the odd couple.
“Amanda! Can you hear me? ….. This is Frank….. Your boy-friend…. Frank Dooley….. Amanda…. Do you understand me?”
The crowd let out a murmur when the blond giantess lowered her thighs, and leaned towards the two men, her right hand pushing back her hair behind her ear.  She did not seemed shocked or surprised, just…interested., a slight frown marring her forehead.
“Amanda, speak to me please. Do you recognise me? If you cannot speak, just give us a nod of your head. Do you understand me?”
Amanda looked at them fixedly, she seemed to be trying to remember something about the two men. The frown disappeared, and the faintest of smile came upon her lips.
“Amanda. You need to give us a sign that you understand me. We are here to help you. There is no need to be scared. (I chuckled at that). Amanda?”
She picked him up. Frank Dooley. The other guy was yanked up , as he was connected to him by some wire of sort, but it snapped as Frank was lifted in the air. I gulped hard.
 She had not lowered her hand gently to let him climb on it. She had picked him up as you would a  doll. One second he was talking to her, the next he was a few floors up in the air, just in front of her smiling face. Two huge fingers were pressing on each side of his body. The crowd let out a collective shout. Down below, rifles were lifted, guns let out of their holsters.
Like many millions of people I watched as she just stared at him, manipulating him, leaving his head up, then having him upside down  and  prodding gently with a perfect and huge finger nail.
He had indeed captured her attention.  After some fingering, she just looked at him intently. We could all hear the whimper of the man , and see his efforts to disengage the terrible grip of her fingers.

And she spoke to him. Her voice came out suddenly, exploding in loud liquid vowels, making our hearts and guts vibrate. It was a beautiful sound, beautiful words, and reminded me immediately of the Elvic language of the Trilogy.  What she said, no one understood. It sounded like a question. The man answered with some less than coherent phrases, frenetically repeating her name and his name every ten second. Everyone I think shared the same huge feeling of relief when the wondrous sonorous voice resonated in the air. Language is intelligence. This was no beast, no brain-dead freak of nature. This was an intelligent being speaking to another.  And the First Contact had been made. And there were many questions to answer.

Frank Dooley started to introduced himself again, with simple gestures. It was obvious to anyone now, that this was not Amanda Singles any longer, but something entirely different. Introductions seemed in order all right. On listening to his answer, the giantess let out a giggle. It was an amazing sound, like a variety of high-pitch bells, resonating in  the morning, with a deep bass underlay coming no doubt from the deep regions within the huge body.
She started to speak to the little man in her fingers, holding a nearly two minutes speech, stopping at times to look at him with big smile on her radiant face. All over the world computers started their analysis. And then she did the oddest thing.

Lifting the man higher than herself, she craned her head back, and lowered him slowly in her wide open mouth .I don’t think he really had time to realize what was up, before he was well inside the rosy cavern. I stared in shock as I watched the struggling figure disappear in the gaping mouth. I just wouldn’t believe it. As she brought her face forward, I could well see some motion inside her motion. The faintest cries were even audible. The crowds around, the police down there, no one, absolutely no one uttered a sound, everyone locked in his private shock. It was as if, by saying nothing, by not moving a muscle, we would see her take the little guy out of her giant mouth, we would erase this strange scene.
No wonder then that the gulping sound she made, when she swallowed him alive came out as perfectly clear to everyone. Only then did the screaming start.

I did not scream, as far as I recollect. James and I just glanced at one another and stared back to the giant body, to a certain point  just below the left breast where Frank Dooley was most certainly alive and  about to be the first man to be digested so by a woman. Amanda stretched her arms above her head like a gymnast warming-up, purring with satisfaction. She looked down and spotted the second guys, in full retreat, and, still stretching her arms, she brought an enormous foot above the fleeing figure. We watch in horror as the foot’s shadow covered the screaming man just before it  landed on top of him. Amanda turned her head and looked straight at us on the roof top, while absent-mindedly crushing the man under her foot. A happy smile floated on her luscious lips. A volley of gunfire exploded from everywhere around.

As she slowly rose to her feet, the impossible mass of her body began to dwarf the entire district. The vast head passed first in front of our eyes, the perfect nose, the warm lips like a giant moving billboard. As her head and shoulders took off in the air above, two monstrous breasts nearly brushed against our terrace, each one the size of a truck. I gripped the rail , craning my head, as the vast expanse of her flat belly passed in front of my  eyes, a quickly moving wall of smoothed flesh. By the time she was fully up and standing, the blond tufts of her bush were just level with our little terrace, her vast hips drowning us in its imposing shadow.  It is then that I decided to start retreating away from the edge of terrace. Far, far above me, within the confine of the great body, a muffled shriek could be heard. I looked up to see, beyond the twin masses of the heavy breasts, the down-turned face of  a hungry girl looking for her breakfast.

tbc

nostromo