Had I been paying closer attention while admiring this titaness's clothing, I might've noticed my sister's return by the tremoring ground thanks to her lumbering sole-slamming stride. Instead, I was made aware of her arrival when a fresh cheese-cut erupted from somewhere downstairs and reverberated through the walls like an apocalyptic horn blare, literally quaking the infrastructure and causing new skin-crawling stink molecules to seep through. It started relatively quietly, a roiling tummy-gurgle, but quickly expanded in explosive volume as well as throat-punching grodiness. Overcome, the sets of oversized panties and bras fell from my grasp, and I doubled over to my knees while the foul wave of Mia's aerosol-state leftover dinner washed over me. There was never any escaping it, so I'd learned not to delay the inevitable and just embrace it, like ripping off a Band-Aid, which meant shivering and coughing up a storm while I openly allowed the gunky smell into my airways.

"Rise and shine, pipsqueaks, wherever ya are!" my sister's voice thundered from below. A final toot punctuated this flurry like a starter's pistol. "The rooster just crowed, and you know what that means. Time to feed the beast!"

This was a call we'd all come to know well, and we knew better than to do anything less than race as fast as we could to sate Mia's unending hunger.

It took a minute of recovery before I could run, however, since my knees had given out and my body was going through the usual withdrawal of clean oxygen, sending involuntary shudders through me from head to toe while the acrid tummy-broiled aroma scorched my throat and created a film of liquefied-fart sweat on my skin. Thus I clawed my way toward the door of my sister's bedroom for a head start, knowing full-well serious penalties would incur if I took even a few seconds longer than was humanly possible to sprint to her side, following the consumption of such a mustardy smog burst. The only real saving grace was that Mia, as much as she loathed being kept waiting for us lesser beings to serve her, was entertained enough at the thought of her family writhing in disgust from those mega-sized poots that she usually allowed us some leeway. But not a lot.

Stumbling into the kitchen, as the warmth and smell only gained power the closer I came to the atomic source, I found my parents already busily putting breakfast together with military precision. Mom and Dad heard me enter, but barely acknowledged my presence, as they were too busy cooking up plates of eggs, bacon, beans for Mia's inevitable second, third, and fourth helpings. Of course my own stinging gaze went right to the queen herself, seated in her specialized reinforced chair, made to withstand the muscle-sculpted weight and buoyant cellulite of a nine-foot totalitarian's wobbly glutes. Dressed in skin-tight short-shorts and an athletic midriff-bearing top, with her hair tied back in the usual ponytail, my sister was less shy than ever in showing off her chiseled physique, her sun-kissed skin glazed over with a glamorous sheen of perspiration from a vigorous run. Though plainly a natural-born athlete, Mia might've just as easily been a gladiator at rest after crushing a fresh marathon of weaker creatures, and frankly I'd started to view her that way the taller, stronger, and stinkier she became.

"Well, there's my favorite little butler-brother!" Mia cheesed at me. She clapped her hands and caused me to flinch, as my brain had learned to associate any such percussive noise with a briny ripple-effect toot, which of course meant I was usually seconds away from getting bowled over by another soupy heat wave. That wasn't the case here, though my sister still chuckled at my paranoid reaction. Either way, there was still plenty of her dank asshole zest floating in a haze around us from the previous fart to announce her homecoming, and I'm sure she wanted my parents and I to soak up every last semi-digested particle before puffing out another dose of manure-flavored atmosphere.

"M-Morning," I stammered, but choked before I could say more. Speaking was always difficult while existing in my sister's oiled-up gas clouds, but then again Mia probably liked it that way. It wasn't like she needed us to talk back; the only thing our mouths were good for now, as I'd heard her joke time and again, was for sucking up her meaty fumes.

"Don't just stand there enjoying the view," she snapped. "Get a towel and wipe me down. Some of us like to start the day off with some heavy cardio, and there's no reason you shouldn't make yourself useful."

Any teasing pretense Mia once had for us "doing her a favor" by playing her servants was gone. She was powerful enough now that there was no need to say anything less than exactly what she wanted.

I leapt to obey her, finding my head had gone light after standing still for just a few seconds in her rancid slime-tinged aura, but didn't let this stop me, as it was an unspoken truth that if I disappointed my sister, I would ultimately perform the same cleaning task, only with my head simultaneously sandwiched between the chair and the unforgiving brunt of her clenched buns. Mia stretched out her arms and legs for my convenience, emphasizing not only her impressive wingspan, but the girth of her toned limbs. She relaxed as I got to work sopping up sweat from her body, letting her head roll back and murmuring with relaxation.

Even at rest, however, Mia was a force to be reckoned with, as I'd learned many times over, so my body remained tense as ever in anticipation of the next wretched storm. In fact, given the right volume of fat-rich bean-riddled dinner, the girl was probably capable of unleashing a noxious nocturnal spray into the night that just might snuff the rest of us in our sleep like carbon monoxide. Knowing I likely had mere seconds before my giant sibling became "too" relaxed, I worked quickly to sop up the perspiration from her body. Every inch of her incredible silhouette I massaged was a humiliating reminder of how much mightier she was than all of us combined, not only while contacting her contracted brawn, but because the towel became saturated before I'd even finished wiping the top half of her body.

Mia's lukewarm sweat dribbled down my arms and into my clothes, the saltwater irritating my skin and soaking through me like the living sponge I was to her, but I couldn't slow down even to wipe it away or wring out the towel. Time was running out.