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Story Notes:

Hi all, this is my second, much more thought out story. I'm trying to keep it dynamic with constantly changing situations and giantess interactions so reviews are always appreciated. Enjoy!

Author's Chapter Notes:

Pretty self explanatory chapter - learn how poor Tony found himself in this predicament.

 

 

A painfully bright lightbulb swung above him, forcing him to squint without the protection of a lampshade to dull the glare. Hours had passed since the police escorted him into the dark, grimy interrogation room. He was hot, thirsty, uncomfortable, and ready to be done with whatever they wanted. He threw a glare at the black glass he knew was a one-way mirror.

“Mr. Capucilli, do you know why you’re here today?” A bland looking policeman entered the room, holding a steaming cup of coffee.

“No. And I want a lawyer.”

The policeman chuckled, still standing. “You only get a lawyer if you’re under arrest, we just want to ask you a few questions.”

“Well then ask, you’ve wasted enough of my time already.”

“Easy there Mr. Capucilli, we’re just trying to help, can I call you Anthony?”

“My friends call me Tony”

“Well then Tony –”

“You’re not my friend.” Tony smirked at the annoyed expression on the cop’s face.

“Let’s cut the crap. We know about your connection with the Bianchi Family. You’ve been smuggling in illegal goods for them for years.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, they’re Italian, I’m Italian, they trust me to import only the finest cheeses from mother Italy. I bet you’ve never had fresh Mozarella or the true, sharp, nutty taste of a beautiful wheel of Parmigiano.” Tony accented the cheeses, kissing his hand and making a mama mia hand gesture.

The officer slammed his palms on the table. “Cut the crap Capucilli, your supplier turned on you. We have word from the Italian police that a shipment of drugs is coming in tonight, hidden in the cheese wheels. You’re screwed and you knew it the second you walked in here.”

“I told you I want a lawyer –”

“And I told you, you don’t get a damn lawyer unless you’re under arrest! And if you’d fucking listen you can walk out of here instead of walking to prison, capiche? Understand that Mr. Olive Garden?” 

“If I’m going to let you tear apart my precious cheeses based on the tip you got from some unreliable supplier, what are you proposing in return?”

“That’s more like it. Your supplier only named you. Not the Bianchis. The way it stands now they come out of this scott-free and you’re not getting out of prison until you’re on your deathbed.”

“So you want me to give you dirt on the Bianchis? I’d rather die after prison than after the trial thank you. I think we’re done here.” Tony rose out of the uncomfortable chair and the officer mirrored his movements.

“Witness protection.”

Tony laughed derisively, “you’re kidding right? Everyone who squeals on the Bianchis ends up dead in less than 3 months, witness protection or not.”

“There’s been breakthroughs, I’m not authorized to talk about it until you agree but trust me, there’s no way the Bianchis could ever find you.”

Tony paused, considering both unsavory options in front of him. For years, he had taken money under the table from the Bianchi in return for looking the other way regarding various imports. He ran his own import/export business and managed to procure various difficult to acquire, illegal items necessary for a crime family’s operation. As a result, Tony was deep in the Bianchi payroll. The past years had been a glorious whirlwind of travel, decadence, women, drugs, and power. But now, it had all come crashing down apparently. He wasn’t even middle-aged yet, he didn’t deserve to rot in prison, or worse, just because he was an accessory to the real crimes.

“I’ll tell you what,” Tony said, “give me a day. I’ll hold the shipment. Tell the Bianchis it got wrapped up in customs. Let me consider your offer. I know how big a Bianchi bust is for the city.”

“Let me check with my superior.” The officer turned and exited the room, leaving Tony alone once again. Sighing, he sat down in the hard, wooden chair and prepared to wait for another long period.

Only a few minutes passed before the bland officer came back in the room. “Deal.” He said, “but you are forbidden from contacting the Bianchi family in any way or we move in and you’re screwed.” He stuck out a hand.

“Okay. Deal.” Tony agreed, shaking the man’s hand.

“One more thing, you’re going to under constant surveillance once you leave the station. I know you’re not going to be stupid enough to try anything but don’t try anything.” The officer’s tone had become slightly menacing.

“Whoa cool your jets officer, relax, I’m as cool as a chilled Prosecco on the balcony of a villa in the hills of Southern Italy. You ever been there officer? Magical place. Generations of history there.”

“I’m Irish.”

“Maybe try a frozen potato in your whiskey then, immerse yourself in your culture, it really soothes the soul.”

“Just get the fuck out.” Half-guiding, half-pushing, the officer led Tony out of the room and back through the station. Tony exited into the bright sunlight, savoring the warmth on his face as he braced himself for a difficult conversation.

 

Hours Later

 

Tony found himself in a similarly cramped room but that was where the similarities with the interrogation room ended. The carpet was plush and thick, the walls lined with expensive art and finely aged liquors. A dim led right illuminated the haze of fine cigar smoke that lingered in the windowless atmosphere. Tony sat in an ornate, cushioned chair, probably worth more than he would make in a year. An untouched goblet of cognac sat on the redwood table in front of him. The dark figure across from him leaned forward and he snapped to sit up straight. He caught a glimpse of a heavily lined face, crisscrossed with scars and covered in a closely trimmed beard of thick, dark hair. Alessandro Bianchi tapped his cigar on the ivory ashtray before sitting back once again, fading into the shadows.

“So.” His voice was dark and heavy, rough but powerful. The voice of a man who could command an army with just one word. A slight rasp hid behind the powerful bass, a symptom of years of smoking. “I’m told you requested an urgent meeting. Please, Mr. Capucilli, explain.”

Tony gulped, his mouth suddenly dry. He had never directly dealt with Alessandro Bianchi, the patriarch and head of the largest crime family on the Eastern seaboard. “W-well, Mr. Bianchi I –”

“Please, call me Alessandro. You have done my family a great number of services, do you not think we are friends?”

“Of course… Alessandro… Please call me Tony.” Just saying the name felt powerful, Tony marveled at the reputation of the man sitting in front of him.

“Tell me what is so urgent Tony, I trust you wouldn’t purposefully waste my time so please, inform me.” Another puff of cigar smoke added to the room’s atmosphere.

“The police know about the shipments, in the cheese I mean. Someone in Italy gave up the operation and pinned it all on me. The police grabbed me and tried to get me to give you up because the rat pinned the whole thing on me. They said I’d go to prison, for decades maybe. I told them I needed a day to think about it but didn’t trust them so I came to see you and … now.” Tony finished lamely, realizing he was babbling. “They also said I’d be under constant surveillance so I don’t know how long we have.” He added.

A long silence filled the room. Tony inhaled, ready to break it, but Alessandro’s voice silenced him. “First, don’t worry about us, when so many people owe you favors… Trust me we’ll have all the time we need.” He paused. “Now for matters at hand. Thank you for coming to me, from all the Bianchi family, loyalty will always be rewarded. But loyalty won’t help you in prison don’t think I’m not sympathetic.”

“Thank you for understanding.” Tony was visibly relieved, maybe someone else could dig him out of this hole.

“We have people in Italy, whoever gave up the operation won’t last long.” Alessandro was talking to himself more than Tony now, thinking out loud. “We’ll need to establish another means of getting goods into the states as well… That will take time. As for you, I have several low-level informants among the police, they could work some magic. Next thing you know the goods are gone, just another embarrassing false tip acted on by the bumbling police. You’ll lose your job but you’ve done well. I’m sure we could find you a place in our organization that suits your skills.”

The words were magic to Tony’s ears. Sure, he would be leaving the morally gray area he existed in right now but a little crime was nothing compared to ending up dead or locked up. “That would amazing, thank you so much Mr. Bi-, uh, Alessandro.”

“Think nothing of it. Let it remind you that good work will always be rewarded. And, thought it pains me to say it, how fast your life could be stripped away were you to make foolish decisions. But you don’t strike me as a foolish man.”

“N-no sir.”

“Good. I have business to attend to, Stefano will show you out. Please, take the bottle” he gestured toward the gem-lined bottle of cognac sitting mostly full on the table, “my gift to you.”

Fumbling slightly, Tony allowed himself to be blindfolded and led out of the meeting place by a silent mountain of a man. He was ushered into a car and, when he was finally allowed to remove the blindfold, found himself at the entrance to his townhouse. Confident that matters had been taken care of, Tony settled on his large, black-leather couch. Armed with a fancy glass and the bottle of cognac, he turned on the television and proceeded to drink until he fell asleep.

 

The Next Day

 

“….Massacre….Scene unfolding….Details emerging concerning the late night showdown between officers…” Scattered words interrupted the pounding in Tony’s head as he came to, very hungover. He fell asleep last night without turning the television off. He rolled over, rubbing his eyes and licking his lips, trying to soothe his dry mouth.

“I’m here reporting from the scene of the horrifying shootout that occurred late last night at Oceanside Warehouse and Storage, a facility used by many businesses to store both incoming and outgoing goods. According to our sources, a team of officers responding to an unrelated call found the police that were supposed to be patrolling the area tampering with goods marked for further inspection by customs. When confronted, the corrupt officers attempted a gangland-style ‘hit’ on the investigating officers. Thankfully, one of their guns jammed and one officer was able to escape and call for backup. After hours of shots fired, the two criminal officers were taken into custody and are currently awaiting trial.”

“Thank you, Lauren, what a horrible event. Let’s just be thankful that the fallen officer’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain and two corrupt cops are off the streets for good. We’ll update you further as the situation develops. Turning to the economy…”

Tony stared, headache forgotten, at the screen, unable to comprehend what was unfolding in front of him.

“Breaking news! The police just released a statement announcing that the corrupt officers were trying to remove drugs, how much or what kind of drugs currently unknown, from a shipment of luxury cheese wheels. The shipment was imported by Capucilli Luxury Imports Inc. but whether the company was aware of the illegal drugs is still unknown. Back to you Jack.”

As if on cue, Tony’s cell phone rang. “Take the offer.” It was the officer from yesterday. Tony stared at the reporters onscreen, not hearing their words, just watching the helicopter footage of the warehouse he knew intimately being sectioned off by teams of uniformed officers. It was clear that whatever Alessandro attempted had failed.

“Tony! This is your last chance.”

“Okay.” He said it, but didn’t feel himself saying it. Like he was watching himself in third person.

“Officers are en route, don’t open the door to anyone unless they have a badge. You hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Don’t bring anything.” The officer hung up.

Tony simply stood in the middle of his living room, too shocked to turn off the television or even grab a drink of water. He heard a knock on his door. “Mr. Capucilli? It’s the police, we’re here to take you to the station.” Tony answered the door and soon he was shuttled into an unmarked car on the way to the station.

“Good morning Tony.” The same officer greeted him, failing to hide a self-righteous smirk.

“Morning officer…” Tony trailed off, fishing for a name.

“Blaine. Austin Blaine. And after today you’ll probably be calling me Detective Blaine, well, not you, you’ll be long gone from this city.”

“Let’s just get this over with, I’m sure you have your genetic predisposition for alcoholism to overcome.” Blaine’s cocky attitude cut through Tony’s haze, bringing back his dislike of the man. He didn’t respond, instead roughly grabbing Tony’s arm and marching him back to the same interrogation room as the day before.

Tony spent the next several hours spilling every piece of information he had against the Bianchi family. Blood money, money laundering, drug trafficking, sex trafficking (Tony had explicitly told them after the first time he didn’t want to be involved with any more of that, even he had standards), arms trafficking, tax fraud, and countless other damning crimes. He had always been wise to the game, keeping each indiscretion he noticed in a mental list in case an emergency like this ever came along. Now it was going to pay off.

“Well thank you Tony, with all that you won’t even need to testify, it’s an open and shut case.” Officer Blaine stood up and stretched, putting away his notepad.

“Wait what? I thought you always need more testimony.”

“Look, I appreciate the situation you’re in. I don’t like you but I swore an oath to protect you. Your evidence is going to put away the biggest crime boss in decades and that’s going to put a target on your back so the sooner you get in witness protection the better. Follow me.”

“To where?”

“Witness protection.”

Tony still had no idea what was going on. They hadn’t given him clothes let alone a new identity, maybe this was some kind of pre-processing? They stepped into the elevator but Officer Blaine didn’t push any buttons, instead reaching for his belt and pulling out a matte-black keycard. He pressed a series of buttons in quick succession and, instead of the elevator traveling to the floors indicated, a small panel slid open. It had been seamlessly integrated into the steel of the elevator so well Tony would have never noticed it was there. A red light blinked out at them. Blaine flashed his keycard and the light turned a deep blue.

Tony stumbled as the elevator jerked into motion. They weren’t traveling up or down, but backwards, seemingly into the walls of the police station.

“What the hell?”

“I told you, major advancements have been made in witness protection. We’ve had 100% success using these new techniques.”

“New techniques?”

“Now that you’re authorized…” Blaine cleared his throat. “Traditional witness protection relied solely on placing you in a different place with a different identity. We’ve developed a technology not only to send you to a different place with a different identity, but to an endless number of randomly changing places with an endless number of endlessly changing identities to suit your environment.”

“I don’t understand, you’re saying you have a fucking teleporter?” Tony was sure this was an elaborate setup leading to his death.

“So much more than that mio amico.” Blaine was enjoying this too much, whatever was going to happen, Tony wasn’t going to enjoy it.

They entered a room lit by the glow of a dozen computer screens, a large machine stood on the far end separated from them by a thick glass wall. A sole figure swiveled between each of the screens, making imperceptible adjustments to the complicated series of letters and numbers displayed.

“Officer Hawthorne, how you doin?” said Blaine.

“Austin, good morning, I’m doing fine thank you. Who do we have today?” as she turned around, Tony realized this Officer Hawthorne was a striking individual. Young, probably early twenties, she cut a slim figure, outlined by a form fitting police t-shirt and hip-hugging jeans. She had tanned skin, nearly gold in the light of the computers. Her sharp eyes, light blue, looked Tony up and down. He couldn’t help notice her sharp cheekbones and pouting lips, as well as her massive breasts barely hidden underneath her shirt. She was the kind of girl he would’ve spent thousands trying to impress at a club in a different lifetime. Hell, even two days ago.

“uh, Tony, hi, how are you?”

“Fuck off Capucilli, if she was interested she’d have 12 clones of you, each better than the original, waiting on her hand and foot. Stick to fucking your cheese.” Blaine wasn’t wasting time with small talk.

“Tell you what, you get a potato and I’ll bring some cheese, we can have an au gratin orgy.” He looked at Hawthorne who was trying hard to hold back a smile.

“I’d agree to that if either of us were ever going to see you again, well, knowingly.” Blaine had a cruel edge in his voice.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“Austin, you didn’t tell him what’s going to happen to him? This is the most extreme form of witness protection. Jesus, Tony, do you have any family?” Hawthorne cut in, the concern in her voice juxtaposed by the professional look on her face.

“Well, uh, no, actually.”

“Probably killed them all for a nice payoff, like a good little tool for the Biachis.”

“Trust me if I was killing anyone, you’d be first on the list pal, wouldn’t even charge.”

“Shut it! Both of you!” Once again her voice stopped them mid-argument. “Austin, take a walk. Come back as a professional.”

Muttering, Blaine threw Tony one last dirty look before walking out of the room.

“Now, Tony, you’re not going to like what you hear but save your questions until the end okay?” Tony nodded affirmative. “This is a secret technology I developed to allow people facing the most extreme threats to live out the rest of their natural lives in relative comfort. This machine will transform you into something no one would recognize and place you in a location no one would think to look.”

“SomeTHING?”

“Save your questions. Your brain will be analyzed by the machine to find your likes and dislikes and place you somewhere accordingly. You may take the form of an object, another person, or something else undetectable. Likewise, you will appear in a location tailored to appeal to you. This will occur once a month, every month, for the rest of your natural life. As an object or whatever else, you will take on its characteristics like not being able to talk or move. However, you will still be fully sentient and if you, uh, break you’ll simply be moved to another form. I realize this sounds extreme but when compared to prison or torture or death we find that the few prior cases we have had took this option. Once a year you will be allowed to check in with a covert officer in a secure location to make sure you are satisfied with the program. Okay, now, questions?”

“SomeTHING??!?”

 “Torture, prison, death. Plus, a life leading up to torture/death in a trailer in rural Missouri if you choose traditional witness protection. Those are your alternatives. I’ll say this, our first participant checked in a few days ago and he has been enjoying his time in the program immensely.”

“Fucking hell, this is nuts.”

“My advice, don’t think about it too hard.” Blaine had re-entered the room. “I think you’re a scumbag and a dick… and a coward… and a smart-ass… but you’re not the worst person I’ve seen. This is your best option.”

“Real encouraging.”

“Listen to him, Tony, I read up on your file. You’re not going to make it far with the Bianchis after you.”

“Fine! I can opt-out after a year, right?” Tony nearly yelled, frustrated. He subtly wiped a tear away from the corner of his eye.

“That’s the deal.” Hawthorne touched his arm lightly, guiding him toward the machine behind the glass wall. A panel slid away, allowing them access. She positioned him on a slightly elevated pad with bundles of wires feeding out of it into bulky, beeping modules along the edge of the room. “Okay, powering on now.” Hawthorne’s voice fed into the room via a hidden intercom.

The machines surrounding Tony whirred into life, rainbows of multicolored buttons and panels lit up around him and a high-pitched whine filled the room. He felt a slight breeze but couldn’t identify its location. A bright white light burst from the pad beneath him, blinding him to his surroundings. He looked down briefly, shielding his eyes, and saw hair-thin wires seemingly made from intangible material creeping their way around his body. He couldn’t feel them but his panic-mode brain screamed at him to run.

“Make sure to stay completely still, this is the most important part. Good luck Tony.” Hawthorne’s voice again, fainter. Or maybe the machine was just louder.

The wire-like tendrils, or tendril-like wires, Tony still wasn’t sure, crept up his body until he looked down and saw nothing but a black, smoky, cloud of flashing electricity where his body had been. The wires smoothly rose higher until they obscured his vision. It was like falling asleep, he wasn’t actually sure when he lost consciousness.

Back in the outer room, Blaine and Hawthorne watched the machine cool down and the smoke fade. Tony was nowhere to be seen. “I still don’t understand why you reward these criminals.” Blaine said to her.

“The man just brought down the largest crime syndicate in decades, if not the century, and made your career. You don’t think he deserves something?”

“He wouldn’t have done it if he had a choice, you know that.”

“Well maybe think about it like this then, he’ll be stuck living out his fantasies, rarely able to speak let alone move. Forever reaching for the fruit that’s just out of reach, always rolling that boulder up the hill, but never getting there.”

“I thought you were an engineer not a Greek mythology expert.”

“Classics minor actually.”

“Huh, learn something new everyday. I gotta go pick up my daughter, she’s coming back for summer break today – you mind finishing up the paperwork?”

“Sure Austin, tell Erika hi for me. She’s at Stanford, right?”

“Yeah.” Blaine couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice.

“That’s a good school, her mom must be a smart woman.”

“Hey, what if I told you she gets her smarts from me?”

“Then she’d be a potato farmer.”

“Don’t you fucking start too –”

“Get outta here, go pick up your daughter.” Hawthorne pushed Blaine toward the door.

 

Elsewhere

 

Groggy and unfocused, the world gradually took form as Tony opened his eyes. Or, rather, as he gained consciousness. To his horror, he realized he couldn’t blink, move, speak, or do anything. He was lying paralyzed in a stranger’s room, staring up at the strangely tall off-white ceiling.

A high-pitched, feminine voice shocked him and he would’ve jumped had he been able to. “I’m getting ready for dinner now! Relax, the restaurant is going to still be there when we get there!” It was the voice of a teenager, or a young woman. Tony tried to whirl his head to locate her but instead the world shifted, sliding sideways and blurring like he was on a rollercoaster. He was now looking at a wall of black fabric. No information here either.

Bam! A heavy impact and earthquake-like shock ran through him, startling him again. He wanted to scream, Tony had never felt so powerless. He tried to look to the side and again his world shifted like he was on the verge of blackout drunk. Except now he was looking at a massive pillar of cream-colored skin. As his vision focused, he noticed the foot attached to it, laying exactly at eye level. Her nails were painted a sky-blue color, complimenting the flawless pale skin of the foot. Shifting again, he was getting better at controlling his vision, he looked up. The massive, smooth leg rose high into the air, defined by soft, muscular thighs and a perfectly shaved, waxed maybe, pink pussy. Confused and aroused, Tony tried to shift his body but couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything to relieve himself except get increasingly horny, staring at the wonderful, giant, body of the woman standing above him.

His view was blocked by her knees as she bent down. He could feel the gigantic pads of her fingers gripping him but was disoriented as she easily manipulated his body. Once she was satisfied, she lifted one giant leg into the air. Tony could see the miniscule bits of lint and dust attached to the smooth, light-pink arch of her foot. The faint smell of watermelon body-wash hit Tony’s nose somehow. She must have just taken a shower. Her toes, slender and thin, wiggled imperceptibly as her foot grew closer to his face. He closed his eyes, anticipating the pain of being crushed but nothing happened. Instead, he felt an odd pressure, like a reverse hug, coursing through his body.

Realization set in, Officer Hawthorne had said he might transform into “something.” Nervously, Tony shifted his attention again. This time he was looking at a full-body mirror resting on the floor of this girl’s room. His eye level was at her waist, staring directly at the slight bulge of her pubic area covered by a pair of tight black panties. He rocked gently left and right as she gyrated slightly in front of the mirror, admiring her fit body. The last nail in the coffin, so to speak, came as he saw her reflection in the mirror slowly run her hands down her perky, B-cup breasts with small erect nipples, to the athletic curves of her waist that highlighted her flat stomach, and finally down her thighs, obscuring Tony’s vision of her through the fingers of her hands. Suddenly, her reflection slapped her ass. Tony felt the impact behind him, not painful, like someone forcefully pushed him, and felt the gentle ripple of skin and fat beneath him. She must have some kind of fat ass, he guessed.

He couldn’t ignore his situation anymore. He had become the panties of this woman and she was currently wearing him. Tony couldn’t process this new situation, instead focusing on how hot this girl was. She must be 18 or 19, he figured, although he couldn’t see her face in the mirror. And judging by her perfect body she must be quite active. She was definitely Tony’s kind of girl.

His enjoyment was cut short as she squeezed into a skintight pair of jeans. The world was imperceptible through the dense blue fabric, but at least some light trickled in. Tony shifted his vision, looking for some vantage point, but the best he could do was find a small hole in the crotch of the jeans that provided him with a glimpse of the beige carpet.

“Erika you had better be ready up there!” What the fuck? Tony knew that voice.

“Daaaaaad! Give me a break I just got back from school! I’m almost done!” Her voice sounded like a bullhorn to Tony. Dad? This girl was Officer Blaine’s daughter? What were the odds?

“Erika, listen to your father! He made this reservation months ago!”

“Okay okay mom, I’m coming!” Her legs, swaddled by his body, pumped up and down, back and forth, taking him on a ride as she skipped down the stairs. Tony could feel his body gently warming up as he pressed against her skin. He could also feel himself slightly riding up between her ass cheeks as he settled onto her body.

This was going to be an interesting week.

 

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