Sweat glistened off of toned skin as Caitlin made her way around the beach at a steady jog. Already, her white tank top clung to her skin, stained by perspiration. As her tennis shoes made contact with the sand, thunderous thumps echoes for miles beyond. Plumes of particles would be kicked up every time her foot fell upon the ground.

The sun barely peaked above the horizon. It shown an ominous orange as it illuminated the dawn sky. Several streaks of dark cloud could barely block out its all-encompassing light. Caitlin was silently thankful of the cool lakeside breeze that caused her hair to flow into her eyes. Even to a titan such as her, that towered above most man-made structures, holding immense powers of destruction and strength in the palm of her hand unobtainable by even the most physically gifted of men, the glare of the sun affected her all the same.

She allowed her pace to fall into a brisk walk as she neared the giantess residences. A bare forearm was brought against her forehead, wiping away some of the pungent liquid that had accumulated.

Scrounging through her pockets, she had managed to wrap her fingers around the sole object that had resided within, the key to her room. Unlocking the door, she strode through, adrenaline still pumping through her veins.

Caitlin managed to acquire a small washcloth. While the cloth was clean and dry, as the muscled giantess dragged it across her sweaty physique, it quite quickly became a salty, soaked rag.

She tossed it aside with little ceremony. It landed with a juicy squelch upon the carpet. A fresh layer of liquid quickly replaced her depleted skin.

After the futile attempt at drying herself off, Caitlin then proceeded to do away with her footware. Dark tennis shoes caked in sand were yanked off. Damn, soggy socks had to be peeled away from her skin. Caitlin allowed herself a small grin, once she realized squeezing her discarded articles extracted a little moisture.

Andrew felt himself sitting straight up as he witnessed his wife enter the room. Dark eyes witnessed all from his perch upon the nightstand. Slight hands threw off the sheets covering his body. With surprising agility, considering the time of day, he vaulted over the cardboard wall containing his resting place. Glancing back, he caught the label, “Massive Matches”, a most colorful logo for his makeshift mattress.

He would not be able to experience the fresh dawn air for long. Almost immediately after he exited his bed, the atmosphere acquired a certain density, as if he had entered a swamp. Heavy odor entered his nose, stained with the signature estrogen bouquet only Caitlin could provide. A hand extended, bracing his lithe form against the matchbox. His opposite palm flew up to his nose. Despite this gesture, he was provided no relief from his wife’s scent. As he attempted to collect himself, he stumbled towards his own suitcase, perched precariously along with his matchbox on the nightstand. A clean, fresh-smelling pair of pale khaki shorts were retrieved. After slipping himself effortlessly through the baggy articles, Andrew then reached for one of his folded white shirts. Hesitation struck him, as he continued to inhale his wife’s foul draft.

He then shut his suitcase, even taking care to zip it back up. As his gait continued to be hindered by his woozy disposition, he could hear Caitlin’s gruff voice from afar.

 “Gee huh, even from here?”

His eyes veered towards the sound of her voice. Her tone lacked any trace of teasing. The only aspect he could detect was pure, unadulterated sincerity.

Andrew gave her a nod, although his own face had taken upon a slightly somber expression.

Caitlin felt her own eyes fall as she witnessed her husband languish in her stench. With a thumb, she pointed to the door as she announced, “Well, I’ll hit the show-”

“-No need.” Andrew interrupted, shaking his head.

The giantess felt her head tilt, “Huh?”

With an obsidian glare that could have been spotted from orbit, her husband declared, “I want you at your worst when I do this.”

Breath failed Caitlin. Her eyes had widened as she gazed into Andrew’s own. Not once did he yield, even as her steel gray orbs lingered upon him.

Slowly, the office man’s legs steadied underneath. He forced his lungs to soak in the damp air. There were several hacks he had to force out as he sucked in swampy atmosphere. Yet, he remained resolute, even under the weight of his wife’s odorous aura.

Caitlin found herself nodding along. As she did so, she lumbered forwards, towering over the nightstand. An encompassing hand loomed, pinching her husband. He experienced his legs and arms swing helplessly in momentum. His stomach flew to his throat, as the hand that held him descended.

Past his wife’s generous thighs and looming calves he flew. Upon coming to rest, he was dangling over one of her feet. He beheld the appendage before him, taking in jutting tendons stretching from her ankles to her toes, forming small valleys between each. Several bumps and callouses marked the uneven terrain of skin.

The smell of vinegar tickled his nose. He fought down the will to cough, or even bring his hand up to shield his nose. Instead, he remained memorized upon the appendages before him, looming as large as buildings, with the mass to match. Dawn light washed over every fold and crevice, reflecting some of the remaining sweat sticking to her skin. He caught motion, the simple act of her toes flexing. Tones of flesh and bone, moved by mere instinct. Caitlin most likely was not even aware of her movements, movements that could shake the ground apart.

Andrew caught his heart fluttering at the sight below him. He found it difficult to breathe, but this was not simply due to what wafted into his nose. Seriously, when did feet become so attractive?

Caitlin’s imposing digits released him. Upon her warm skin, he landed. Before, he could trace where the acidic smell of her feet had originated. Now, he could do no such thing, for her odor had entrapped him. It was above him, below him, to his flanks, on his skin, in his nose, invading his brain. A cough escaped his mouth, as he struggled to negotiate the intensity of sensations that had assaulted every sense.

The voice of the giantess echoed from the heavens, “Shall we?”

His head veered upward. Caitlin’s hands had taken ahold of a strip of masking tape. To her, the adhesive material was fit to stretch between her two hands. As it drew close, Andrew could tell the pale tan material could engulf his entire body.

Andrew found himself lying flat on the appendage, which was more akin to an island, or the rooftop of a building. He had found himself near the top quadrant of her foot. His slight form lay within a divot, a valley formed by two tremendous tendons; one leading to her big toe, the other to her second. Near his head, lay the gap between the two dominating digits. Even in the environment of musk he had found himself in, he could tell the aforementioned area possessed the most concentrated of her caustic essence.

The masking tape cast its own shadow over his form. Andrew found himself swallowing some spittle. He gazed into the eyes above him, swimming with a million emotions.

“Alright,” Caitlin said, exhaling in anticipation, “Whenever you’re ready big boy.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be,” her husband replied.

She froze, stuck in her kneeling position. The band of adhesive hovered just a few feet over Andrew. Slowly, the giantess began to retract her hands.

“We could save this ‘till after the honeymoon you know,” she began to plead, “I’m not having you hurl on me again.”

A playful smile crossed Andrew’s face, “It couldn’t have been that hard to clean off.”

Caitlin found herself scrunching her face. One eyebrow rose in inquisition, “What do you- oh ha ha.”

After laughter died down, her glare became sharp and serious. “But really, I can control myself until you’re ready.”

“Can you?” her husband challenged. His grin had not departed him.

“I-”

A deep sniff cut off her objection. Even Andrew’s relatively minuscule lungs were able to make noise enough to register within Caitlin’s grand ears. His inhale was punctuated by an audible gag, something which gave the impression that he was about to hurl out his entire trachea. Nothing did exit his mouth.

In fact, despite the smell, Andrew found that he could not move. Silently, he was relieved that his khakis were rather baggy, for trying to explain what had popped up beneath them would be most embarrassing.

“You okay?” his wife inquired.

“I’ve never seen your feet bare before,” Andrew stated, “At least from where I’m sitting.”

Finally, good cheer returned to the giantess, as she let a small chuckle slip through her lips. Caitlin mulled upon her husband’s rather focused expression, as suspicions began creeping into the back of her mind about his rather peculiar disposition.

“Really?” she questioned, “Never really thought about that.”

Her hands advanced, bringing the strip of masking tape along. Finally, his skin made contract with the sticky material. Andrew felt his flesh sucked into the surface of the strip. Pressure from his wife’s fingers caused him to sink into the soft of her foot, dousing him with a fresh sensation of skunk. The entirety of his torso and legs had been rendered immobile. Even attempting to manage minute movements required an unthinkable level of effort. Meanwhile, his arms lay free, and now rested over his sticky bindings.

Peering down his body, Andrew could not help but notice how the adhesive managed respectively mold to the outline of his skinny physique.

As Caitlin ran her fingers over the edges of the tape once more, she inquired, “Seatbelts secured and fastened?”

“You know another thing I’ve never seen?” Andrew mused, still peering down his restrained form.

“What?”

“A rollercoaster,” he answered, “I don’t have the stoma-”

The rest of his words were lost as the foot the held him veered off to the side. Andrew’s organs failed to keep up with the rest of his frame, and thus the sensation of sloshing innards informed the great velocity of movement he had been subject to. As her foot began to drop, his intestines struggled to remain within his abdomen, while Andrew’s mouth opened from sheer momentum.

Once her foot impacted the floor, the miniscule man was subject to a great rattle, felt by muscle, bone, organ, nerves and blood vessels. His teeth chattered neither from cold nor anxiety, but from force. A sharp exhale was coerced out of his lungs.

Afterwards, he lay still, his tape-free arms splayed out. Hands rested upon titanic tendons. As he gazed up at his wife’s face, directed at him as she paused her gait, his mouth listlessly held open.

“Have a stomach now?” she prodded.

Andrew managed to wrench one of his arms free, giving Caitlin a thumbs up.

As restrictive as the tape was, Andrew would grow to appreciate his bondage. Every step swung him in a manner not even the most reckless of drivers could hope to achieve. Perhaps this is what it’s like, riding a rollercoaster.

Caitlin, meanwhile, had ventured towards the front door. Her nose scrunched at a pair of pink flip flops, casually tossed aside in a heap, as was her habit. She peered down at her feet, growing concerned at her husband’s apparent motion sickness. As she looked back towards the haphazardly stored footwear, a scowl formed upon her face.

“Ugh, really going to have to get some new ones,” she commented.

From down below, her gargantuan ears picked up the voice of her husband, “I think the color matches you perfectly.”

Andrew immediately found himself smothered by fragrant flesh, courtesy of Caitlin’s other foot landing on top of him. Even though she held back, he could already sense the immeasurable weight that lay contained above him. His entire face, along with his tape-wrapped body was completely enveloped in the skin of her sole, calloused, rough, yet with some give. Skin flaked against his face, while his wife’s signature smell invaded his very soul.

Her foot, ascended, relieving him of its immense heft. Dank flesh had to be pulled away, for its moist surface proved slightly sticky. As Andrew witnessed the bottom of her foot draw away, he drew breath, and was surprised at how fresh the air tasted.

Caitlin then grabbed her prospective footware, before slipping both on. One of the straps, a dulled pink, lay directly behind Andrew’s head, ruffling some of his hair in the process. Still grimacing at the appearance of the rose colored flops upon her calloused, sweaty feet, she nevertheless chose to press on.

The giantess ventured through the door. As she made her way to the beach, she would periodically peer down, made aware of the stark difference in size her husband was to her foot. Her big toe was of greater size by a considerable amount. Even the toe nail protecting the tip was of comparable height to Andrew’s puny form.

For some reason, this caused her breathing to hasten, if only by a minuscule amount.

Andrew himself was breathing quite rapidly, which only drew more of the appendage’s musk into his olfactory. He was still rendered unprepared for the swings of momentum, powered by the vast, sculpted thighs that lay above. Periodically, as she kept pace, he would catch her gray shorts bunch and fold, revealing the outlines of his wife usually left to imagination. With each step, her thighs, her calves would reveal the forms of sinew and muscle that powered them. Upon every footfall, once Andrew felt the shock of impact die down, he would catch his Caitlin’s magnificent chest tremble, almost in-sync with his own heart.

While rapid motions covering vast distances had hastened his breath, the sight above stole it away.

The sky had taken a blue hue, far more so than when Caitlin had gone for her run. Once concealed behind distant hills, the sun was quite clear of the horizon. Its white glare was now blinding to the naked eye, and even those with proper protection.

While the normal-sized section had become clogged with beach-goers, resembling a mass of specks from Caitlin’s vantage, fellow giantesses proved a rare sight. She could spot some in the distance, but would breathe a sigh of relief once it was determined they had other business to attend to. Her eyes would then veer back to her husband, monitoring every aspect, especially if it appeared he would repeat his act from the previous night.

Her view then settled upon a titanic form that lay nearby. This giantess lounged in a beach chair. The lumbar was brought up nearly straight in orientation. Luscious red hair fell down in wavy locks, over her shoulders, coating her back, and even in front of eyes concealed by dark sunglasses. Her bikini matched her drapes, though it was of a deeper, richer shade. It barely covered the flesh of her chest, and was laced with intricate patterns.

The luxuriously relaxed woman possessed a most creamy complexion, fair in the fairest sense. Late morning sunlight allowed her smooth skin to showcase its magnificent luster. Compiling all aspects of this elegant giantess, Caitlin could not help, but clench her teeth.

She checked upon Andrew once more, but he did not appear to notice the nearby titan. For some reason, the lounging giantess appeared below his attention. Something else had occupied it.

Caitlin’s eyes widened as her sight settled upon the woman’s feet. While as clean and pampered as the rest of her, there was a rather distracting addition. While her appendages rested in rather plain looking tan flip-flops, there was movement that surrounded the scene. Titanic eyes squinted as they focused, making out the forms of men, and a few women. They raced between her toes, or were stuck underneath. No matter where they were, all these minuscule mites were furiously working away, throwing their backs into massaging her glistening flesh. Others had accompanied their movements with a peculiar motion of their heads, moving up and down the area of skin that had entrapped them. It was as if … they were licking of her flesh.

The woman’s head lazily rose. Her expression proved unreadable, thanks to her shaded eyeware. Blood-red lips pursed as she peered down upon the wretches souls slaving away in the shadow of her feet. “I’m not feeling those tongues slaves,” she sneered, with a voice that sounded of silky velvet, “Harder! Unless you wish to feel my wrath.”

Caitlin’s own limbs moved by themselves. She could not be helped but be drawn to the scene. From her vantage, even from such a distance, she had been able to pick out the anguished expressions and movements of the insects this woman had claimed ownership of.

As she drew ever closer, her eyes observed torn fragments of cloth covering waists, unlike any regular beachgoer. In fact they were dressed in the same manner as the cultists she and her husband had encountered the previous day.

“Nice to see a fellow woman here,” rang a siren’s voice, causing Caitlin to be shocked from her stupor. The woman lowered her glasses, revealing eyes the color of lilac. There was no ambiguity as to where she had directed her gaze, for her irises veered downwards, in Caitlin’s general direction.

“I guess you’re teaching a speck an important lesson?” she mused, a touch of warmth creeping into her seductive timbre.

Caitlin’s own silvery orbs briefly looked down, catching Andrew’s rather concerned face. One of her hands made its way to the back of her head, trembling as it did so. Calloused digits ruffled her auburn locks, as a new wave of cold sweat poured over her forehead.

“Uh …” she stuttered, “It’s a long story, but…”

“No need to hide the juicy details dear,” the woman dismissed with the wave of her hand, “I love hearing about putting slaves in their place. Tape is a crude, but effective method.”

Down on her foot, Andrew had finally taken notice of the looming lady in close proximity. The booming voices raging in the sky demanded his attention. His position afforded him a most explicit view of the disgraced men slaving away. Toes that loomed as large as a man crawled with these pathetic creatures. It was as if the awesome appendage possessed a well of gravity itself, for the wretched souls appeared stuck to its milky flesh.

Compared to the foot he rested on, the redhead’s own foot certainly possessed a delicate quality. A sense of dread ran up his spine, something that, strangely enough, could only be calmed by gazing at his wife’s course, calloused, hairy, odorous appendage.

There was a shift in the shadows. Andrew allowed the back of his head to rest in his wife’s musty flesh as he gazed upwards. Caitlin had shot him a most peculiar gaze, a look that he possessed no words to accurately describe. It was as if she were a rat, trapped in a cage with a cat, realizing its destiny was all but decided.

His beloved, a behemoth of over 500 feet, whose physique was imposing, even to those similarly affected, looked absolutely hopeless.

With just the movement of her pupils, she directed the office man’s attention to the captured cultists. No words left his mouth, as his eyes rolled back into his skull. Still he relented, relaxing his own shoulders, while softening his gaze. This in turn, caused the underlying muscle beneath to loosen, as if released from indescribable tension.

Methodically, Caitlin’s imposing, athletic form shifted ever closer to the crimson-haired vixen. Her feet came to a stop once they had been parked next to the siren’s soles.

“So,” Caitlin voiced, finding difficulty in forcing words out of her mouth, “How did you come across these … uh … slaves.”

The other giantess shot her a wicked smile, while her voice took on a devious growl, “Would you believe they begged me?”

As conversation thundered above, Caitlin’s free foot began teasing her occupied one. The tread of her flop ran over the adhered tape, loosening its hold with each pass. Andrew noted that the ability to move his legs returned. Despite the restraining strip maintaining a significant amount of stickiness, the lanky man was able to gradually wriggle out of its grasp.

With one last swipe of her foot, one of the ends of the masking tape flew free, and so did Andrew as he got on his feet, throwing off the remaining adhesive that dared stay attached. He knelt down, and pounded his fist upon the foot below, ceasing the motion of her opposite limb. With one last glare, confirming he was in the most literal sense, below the notice of the blood-colored menace above, he scrambled off his wife’s foot, sliding down the edge of her big toe, then launching off the pad of her flip-flop to the sand below.

Andrew wished to memorize exactly how even the tread his wife’s flip-flop compared to him, making it up to his waist. Such musings would be appropriate for later, as he broke out into a sprint, headed towards the foot of the more delicate giantess.

Up close, he picked out details that had gone unnoticed. Wrapped around each toes were multiple loops of string. Each cultist was hindered by a string, wrapped tightly around their waist. Some, did not require such bindings, despite the fact that they too possessed it, for they were stuck under the milky flesh of the titan’s sole.

Misery, misery, misery, that was all the cultist’s faces had decided to present. Andrew recognized the shapely physique of their leader, buried beneath her large toe. As much of a monster of a man he was, perhaps a head taller than Andrew, a single digit had rendered him inert.

Dark eyes also caught several dark marks strewn across the skin of each cultist. With a grimace, he made his presence known to them.

“Hey, you guys alright?”

The leader’s tongue retracted in his mouth. His square jaw scrunched as it assisted him in swallowing bitter waters. A sullen glare was directed at the office man. There was no doubt, that the light of worship had been extinguished in his eyes.

“It is not wise for us lowly slaves to exchange words,” he murmured in a mechanical, rehearsed voice, “the goddess would surely be angr-”

Andrew folded his arms, and wasted no time with pleasantries, “Are you guys happy here? It appears you got exactly what you wanted.”

He witnessed the chiseled man close his eyes in response. Other cultists began to glare at the free man.

“I heard you … uh … soliciting my wife here for worship,” Andrew further explained, developing a small blush upon his own face.

“Indeed, and what a fine goddess she is,” remarked the leader “But we have made our choic-”

“I can free you from those knots,” Andrew interjected, squinting at the aforementioned bindings, “They look like standard double knots. And your ‘goddess’ appears to be otherwise occupied.”

Feminine voices still rang. The power they projected would have been more appropriate following a brilliant flash of lightning. Even as the little men scurrying about the giantess’s foot carried a conversation, there were no movements indicating a change.

The leader paused in his movements, his eyes stuck on Andrew. After a moment’s hesitation, he then shouted out, “Oh heavens please!”

Andrew proceeded, scurrying about, his feet allowing him to almost glide across the sand. The woman’s foot possessed an aura of its own. As he began scaling her smooth skin, he detected the same vinegary funk present upon Caitlin’s foot, although to a greatly reduced degree. He also picked up a rather strong sensation of lavender. As he continued to trek across the expanse of the siren’s foot, clear thoughts, and sharp focus appeared to return to his senses.

As he made his way to each cultist, Andrew could not help but scrunch his nose in disappointment. The string, large, wolly and unwieldy, was nevertheless, easily undone. In fact, it’s so easy, I’m kind of insulted.

Soon, four of the cultists were freed. Andrew had them still servicing the giantess’s foot, lest she noticed a difference. The leader still remained pinned under her toe. Andrew leapt across the bridges of her gaps, as he made his way to him.

A shift in the woman’s foot caused Andrew to lose his balance. He fell, before being caught in the space separating her big and second toes. Both vinegar and lavender grew in intensity, stinging his nose. Andrew stuck his arms out, vainly trying to pry the digits apart. While he could make indents in her luxurious skin, the toes themselves never yielded. Growling in frustration, he began wiggling his hips, and was surprised as his body shifted position, proving he had not been completely restrained.

Escalating his motions, he experienced his body sinking. He witnessed the joint of her large toe pass over him. Soon, his chest cleared her grip, and he fell upon his back, in the sand, directly under the arch of her prime digit. Scrambling up, he rushed to the side of the massive mound of flesh, easily undoing the restraints around the hulking physique of the cult leader.

Grabbing an arm that was easily twice the size of his own, Andrew threw in his back in pulling. The leader didn’t budge.

One of the cultists had ventured to the opposite side of her large toe, taking a most precarious position in front of her second. He began laying several tender kisses on the prodigious digit.

As a result, for a brief moment, the leviathan moved up. Andrew wasted no time, and yanked the built man out of its shadow. His own lanky physique screamed in pain, as it struggled to move a man that could have doubled his mass. Fortunately, the powdery sand below did not provide much resistance.

The ground beneath rumbled as the vixen’s toe settled back into the sand.

The freemen wasted no time, scrambling immediately once their leader was on his feet. Andrew took the lead, directing them towards the larger, grimier monoliths of his wife’s own feet. While Andrew, the cult leader, and one other climbed up the cliffside of Caitlin’s mighty appendage, the remaining three sprinted towards the far side, taking the opposite foot.

Tingles of tiny men scurrying across Caitlin’s skin sent shivers up her spine. Her attention, once held captive by the red-headed woman, now found itself redirected, and the velvety voice became a distant echo.

“… And sometimes to get the rest of their loyalty, you really run train on one tiny. I once pressed my foot on one, the less I felt him worship me, the more pressure I applied. I ended up breaking his ribs and spine, which was a shame, because then he couldn’t properly serve me .. but the message got through...”

These words might as well have been spoken into the void, for the men down below paid no heed to her booming elaborations. In fact, some, including their chiseled leader, began kissing the very flesh of Caitlin’s feet.

The man was then struck across the face, forcing himself to face eye-to-eye with a very irate Andrew.

 “Hands off the goods you freak!”

The prime cultist rolled his eyes, “Ugh, exclusivity.”

Nevertheless, he and his fellows ceased their actions. All then where thrown off balance, as the leviathan they had hitched a ride on, shifted her feet. Several had to tug on some of the sparse hairs, in order so that they would not be left in the sand below. Those on Andrew’s foot took sanctuary underneath the still-adhesive tape.

“-Well that’s very interesting.” interjected Caitlin, forcing herself to give a wide smile that strained her jaw, “Nice meeting you!”

There was a despondent sigh. Caitlin could only wonder how many other horrifying stories of tyranny and discipline the ginger, self-appointed goddess had stored up to regale her with. Still, the lavender giantess remained most cordial, as she offered, “If you have problems punishing your slave, I can break him in for you.”

Caitlin nodded her head with such frequency, she felt for sure it would rattle off her neck, “I’ll uh … keep that in mind, bye!”

The siren raised a silky arm, waving farewell to her newfound peer, “Bye!”

All men, and few women who had found themselves passengers upon Caitlin’s peds, felt their innards jostled. The giantess’s pace was brisk, for her sole purpose was to carry herself as far away from the crimson tormentor as possible. Caitlin experienced the heat of the sun intensify as noon began to brush aside morning. Combined with her frantic movements, a new layer of sweat began to coat her skin.

Meanwhile, the luxurious goliath sat back, her fair complexion ready to take upon a stunning tan. Her sunglasses had been flipped up over her eyes. She did not even peer down at her prospective subjects. Instead, she addressed them in a distant manner, as she felt her eyes come to a close, “I’ll be resting slaves. The least of you will be my snack, so work hard to please me while I sleep.”

…

A gleeful smirk grew upon Caitlin’s face as she monitored the redhead resting. While her breath had hastened due to slight exertion, she nevertheless, emanated pure glee.

“Haha! Sucker!” she shouted. Even a voice, powered by vocal chords more fit to power a cathedral organ, did not register to the former, crimson-clad slaver.

The sensation of tickling traveled across her feet. Caitlin glared down, and scowled upon realizing that the cultists were servicing her pedal appendages in the same manner as their previous tormentor.

“Hey! Stop that!”

Her objections, enhanced by sheer magnitude commanded obedience, and half of the cultists ceased. Others were nonplussed, and continued drinking in her vinegary excess.

“Oh mighty goddess,” bellowed their leader, raising his arms, projecting them into the sky, “You saved us from that wretched succubus! We are forever in your debt. Let us service you and-”

“-Didn’t you guys even learn a thing?” she questioned, spitting out consonants with contempt, “You throw yourselves like that on people, and you’re bound to get bitches like her taking advantage of you!”

As if to further punctuate her statement, she folded her arms, puffing up the silhouette of her torso.

At this act of dominance, the cult leader only nodded, “Ah, wise and beautiful goddess.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, before barbing, “You guys really do need Jesus.”

As Caitlin scrutinized the six figures loitering about her feet, a worried look impressed itself upon her face. One of her hands flew up to her chin, providing a platform for it to rest upon. 

“Wait, weren’t there more of you?” she wondered, “I thought there were at least 10 of you guys slobbering in the sand the other day.”

Andrew witnessed the eyes of the muscled man beside him hollow out. Even his voice, whether in bondage, or free, lacked his usual fanatical vigor. “Some lost interest, some … weren’t worthy of life according to the other goddess.”

The office man grew chalk white.

“They don’t enforce the law here much, do they?” he stammered, gazing up at the contemplating colossus.

Her silvery orbs darkened, as if caught in an eclipse. “Not in our zone, even if a reg bites it. You have to imagine the force they have to bear to even enforce the law. The only thing they prosecute are kidnappings, and since these guys basically walked into our zone and threw themselves at her...”

Dread set in Andrew’s stomach. For once, pungent aromas were not the source of his nausea.

“Good thing I’m taped to you,” he murmured, “I don’t want other giant gals getting a shine to turning me into a red puddle.”

“I thought that was what I wanted out of this life.”

The sun glared off of the prime cultist’s musculature. No longer did his physique appear to be bulging, as if the muscles within had involuntarily rested. This man, desperate for dominion over him, for the first time, had been subdued. But, it was not to the goddesses he had worshiped.

“I desired to be made mush by a beautiful goddess, to be subject hopelessly, inexorably to her power. But today … today has been taxing to that belief.”

Andrew caught slight nods, and resentful resignation among the rest. Whether they be plump, skinny, man or woman, the madman’s faithful companions all appeared in agreement.

Their feet dragged, on smelly flesh, before jumping off into powdery sand. Particles were kicked up as their paces scraped through the ground. Shoulders slumped, and spines bent. Yet, they moved forward. Where they were headed, was only known to them.

The massive man paused, even as his fellows continued. For the first time, a warm, wide smile spread over his mouth. A twinkle, perhaps of true faith, glistened in his wistful eyes.

“I thank you two,” he said, in a tone that could have been a whisper, “and well wishes to your future.”

Upon the beach they trudged, growing ever smaller as they pressed on. Eventually, they were swallowed up by scenery, their forms no longer discernible against the pale terrain. As to where they had ventured, up, even further beyond where they had trekked, lay the fence that divided the giant, from man.

The giantess zone remained sparsely populated. Caitlin had glanced back, back to where she had encountered the red-headed vixen, still finding her curvaceous form resting. From the great distance between them, she could not tell of the expression the other giantess wore on her face, but she supposed she lay blissfully ignorant of the heist she and her husband had pulled.

“Shoot, I kinda miss them.” Caitlin finally blurted out, breaking the momentary silence.

Andrew had taken the time from the cultists departure to secure the bindings that held him to his wife’s foot. “What, you liked them schmoozing you over your feet?” An inquisitive eyebrow rose as he said this.

Caitlin shot back a smirk. “Jealous?”

“You bet.”

The giantess stifled a giggle, “Good.”

Her shadow washed over him and the surrounding area as she bent down, smoothing down the frayed edges of the masking tape her husband simply could not reach. A finger pressed into his form, testing the strength of the bond. Upon giving an approving grunt, she stood back up to her full height.

The passage of time brought more beach goers, both giantess and regular to the area. Time had also led the sun to its apex, allowing white-hot heat to beat down, warming the sand and glistening waters.

A decent line of titans had formed in front of a wooden shack. The structure, only fit for one occupant, was painted white, although the coating of color had begun to crack and chip. Within lay several devices, all in service for quick and easy gastronomy. Fryers of vast pools of oil bubbled with strips of potato. Containers were lined up on counters, and filled with various chopped condiments.

A vendor, manning an opening facing the line of giants, handed out various foodstuffs in trays of cardboard. She was a plain, young woman with a head of short black hair. Her face was locked into a professional smile, no matter if she was addressing prospective customers, assembling orders, or manning the single grill within.

Caitlin had found herself in this line. Her mouth was wet with anticipation. Despite being in close proximity with other young ladies of comparable height, none paid heed to the man strapped to her foot. Some appeared content to instead look upwards, for on average, Caitlin possessed a head’s worth of advantage over them.

Soon enough, her turn was up. Scents wafted from within the cramped kitchen, consisting of crisping meat, boiling fat, and sweating aromatics. Instinctively, her tongue swept across her lower lip.

The vendor, still wearing a smile, was still able to widen her eyes in recognition. “Hey,” she said, in a sweet, steady, almost comforting voice, “You’re the girl that wolfed down those double bacon cheeseburgers eh?”

Caitlin decided to return her smile, although her act of cheer appeared more relaxed, with a hint of playfulness. “I needed something to fuel these puppies.”

One of her arms rose, bending at the elbows. As she grit her teeth, her bicep began to bulge. At the apex of her act, a strong vein that ran over the vast dune of muscle made itself explicitly visible.

Her efforts were rewarded with a laugh. “Need more?” offered the vendor.

“Actually,” contemplated the newlywed, “Let’s switch it up. You guys sell chili dogs?”

The vendor nodded, “We sure do!”

“I’ll have one of those,” she decided, “You guys make your chili spicy, right?”

“The question is,” began the woman within the shack, as she leaned forward, as if issuing a challenge, “How spicy?”

In the span of a few minutes, Caitlin had marched a way with her prize, seated on a throne of paper-derived material. A white squishy bun housed an immense sausage that reached half the length of her arm. The girth of the processed meat-product was also rather impressive. Not the tastiest sausage I’m looking forward to trying.

Its reddened meat, acquired from hours of smoking, was not visible beneath the apocalyptic mound of chili. Meat shined from emulsified fat, submerged in a dark red, bordering on brown liquid. A smattering of insignificant white onions crowned this beast of beach food. Caitlin dared not stare at her acquisition for too long, for her eyes could already feel of the chili’s immense scoville armaments, ready to invade her mouth.

She had taken a seat at a wooden table, some measure of distance away from the food shack. As her feet slid under the shade provided, a cool sigh of relief escaped her mouth.

Relief was also upon Andrew’s mind, for he immediately experienced a drop in temperature as shadow passed over him. All that was visible were his wife’s legs. The angle they were perched at offered no purchase, if he wished to scale their immensity.

Andrew took in a deep whiff, contemplating the sensation of funky vinegar tickle his nostrils. Not a cough, gasp or guffaw resulted from this. Even his own state of mind remained steady. Never did he waver, never, was there an inclination to rest his head.

He inhaled most enthusiastically once more, as if he were mocking the very air that had given him trouble earlier that day. Dark eyes glued themselves to every vein, pour and tendon coursing through the mighty foot he laid upon.

A sly smile crossed his face. Shimmying his shoulders, he loosened the masking bindings hindering him. While still strong, the tape had lost a significant portion of its potency. In a few minutes, he had wriggled free.

On all fours, he lay, staring at the pulsating skin below. In many ways, he found the sight entrancing. A siren’s song would have a harder time swaying his desires, than the sight below him.

Leaning down, he pressed his parched lips into her flesh. His heart fluttered upon witnessing his wife’s toes move as a result.

Caitlin, meanwhile, had taken to task, her annihilation of the mass of protein in her hand. Chili, and juices of emulsified pork and beef dripped from her mouth, painting the expansive white canvas of her tank-top.  Her tongue flicked out periodically to retrieve some of the lost, meaty liquid, but even to such a massive muscle, her actions were in vain. Fatty fluid still dribbled down her chin.

She would take breaks in regular intervals, for the substance topping the formidable dog had lived up to the infamy the vendor had promoted it with. Still, with an arrogant grimace, Caitlin continued to crudely stuff the remainder of her meal into her mouth.

Down to the last bite, she experienced a flutter, a familiar tingle upon her feet. It quite closely resembled what she had sensed during their second run-in with the cultists. Narrowing her eyes, she then peered under the table.

Caitlin was at a loss of breath and words as she witnessed her husband enthusiastically bury his face into her skin. Realization then crossed her face.

“Shoot Andy!” she shouted, grabbing his attention, “I got my attention robbed by this dog!”

Andrew’s services ceased, creating a void of feeling that Caitlin did not know could even exist.

Her foot was brought up, along with her husband. It came to a stop, resting upon the bench she sat on. Gingerly, a hand descended, as she presented her palm as an adjacent platform. Andrew automatically advanced, waltzing across the span of her appendage, before hopping upon her palm. Once his gait ceased, her hand began to rise.

As momentum pressed down upon him, Andrew could not help but take note of the dark red stains that painted the tips of Caitlin’s fingers.

He was brought before her face. Caitlin’s gaping mouth rested just above the horizon. Andrew was blasted with a breeze entirely composed of raw onion and spice, as well as an underlying meatiness. So concentrated was her breath, that he immediately felt his appetite disappear. Still, he managed to maintain a straight posture while gazing into his wife’s eyes.

“I suppose you’re doing alright?” she addressed him, sporting a small, but rather welcoming smile.

“I believe things are afoot,” Andrew confirmed, winking. At this, Caitlin stifled a chuckle.

A hand began to rub the back of his head, running through thick layers of black locks. “To be honest,” he continued, “I think we can … uh … move to the next stage.”

Gigantic eyebrows rose, “The next stage?”

Andrew nodded, “Yeah. Your feet stink, don’t get me wrong, but I bet they aren’t even close to the worst part of you.”

Caitlin leaned in, allowing her maw to invade the proximity of her palm. Andrew instinctively backed away, before tripping over his own feet, and falling upon his rear. A low growl lurked within her tone as she pressed, “And pray tell, what would the worst part of me be?”