Mechanical clacks echoed through the office as spindly fingers danced across the keyboard. It was a cathartic, if soothing sound, one that brought light to Andrew’s baggy eyes while they remained glued to the LED display. After a moment’s hesitation, he strained his neck, attempting to correct a hump that had formed upon his spine. His back then slumped once more while he resumed working.

Over the walls of his cubicle, he could spot another man briskly walking by. His legs were not visible, and it appeared to him as if he were gliding across the carpeted floor. A square face with a strong jaw, lined with scruffy facial hair betrayed a rather bright, yet intense look. Thick, lustrous hair bounced with each step he took. Clear, hazel eyes were unambiguously focused upon Andrew himself. Nevertheless, the lankier worker did not peel himself away.

Once he reached Andrew’s cubicle, the man slung over a rather thick arm over the flimsy walls. The white sleeves of his button up shirt revealed rippling muscle underneath. A dash of concern furrowed his brow, even as his coworker continued to ignore him. Just barely visible, a name tag fitted precariously upon his generous chest read, “Jacob”.

“Hey Andy!” Jake shouted, despite his proximity, “I thought you’d be home by now.”

“I have a couple of files that need to be processed,” Andrew responded, never once breaking his workflow, “then I’ll be good to go.”

“Really?” his coworker inquired, pulling another juggernaut of an arm over the barrier, causing it to bend, “If I just pulled an all-nighter like you did, I’d be outta here at 3! Say … why don’t I handle those files? You’ve pretty much made your case for a raise last night. Saved my job.”

Andrew paused his typing, allowing his office chair to roll lazily back. Dark eyes veered to address his coworker. His lips curled into a smile, but it was a smile that struggled to stay in form, for his tired muscles strained even with maintaining such an expression.

“I saved nothing,” he conceded, “I just did what was called for. And right now, what’s called for is getting these files done.”

Jake’s massive shoulder’s rose, before sinking down in defeat, “If you insist…”

The massive man slinked away, his footfalls notably carrying extra weight. No visible reaction was betrayed by Andrew. His eyes then slid back to stare at his screen, while twitching fingers settled upon the keyboard. He resumed his task once more.

Keyboard presses filled the air with a snappy crackle. As he worked, Andrew allowed the passage of time to slip by. A wall mounted clock near the entrance to the office space ticked the seconds away.

Movement was caught by his eye again. The man who shuffled towards him was of a stockier physique. Lawrence’s stomach flopped most ungracefully beneath his work shirt, while a grubby hand grasped a napkin that dabbed his luminous forehead. Even from such a distance away, Andrew could tell his manager sported a troubled brow.

Lawrence took in several deep heaves once he had made it to Andrew’s cubicle. Yet, the young office worker did little to acknowledge his superior’s presence, choosing instead to occupy himself with his computer screen. The clack of keystrokes were as frequent and snappy as ever. Not once did his fingers even break rhythm.

“Hey Altera,” he huffed, allowing a hand to rise.

His eyes still glued to his LED display, Andrew responded, “I have some availability if you nee-”

“Nah,” his manager interjected, his vocal tone overcoming exhausted breathlessness, “None of that, I was just saying, you should probably take the rest of the day off.”

Unbeknownst to both, an expired cup of coffee staining a styrofoam container quivered ever so slightly. It rested on Andrew’s desk, just below the monitor, having never been touched for the past two hours.

The office drone managed to finally unbind his head, giving his boss a most discerning glare, “Would it trouble you any if I can just tie up these loose ends? Dot my circles, fill in my squares? I’m not leaving with stuff incomplete.”

A thin hand rushed to his coffee cup, if only to steady the tremors that had dislodged it from its precisely determined position.

,”Look …” Lawrence stuttered, “I appreciate it, but I got a rather … uh … angry phone call.”

An eyebrow rose on the young man’s face, “From who?”

As he had said this, the carpet beneath his feet had begun to shake.

Lawrence had notably begun to perspire. Part of his exposed dome began to acquire luster that could be compared to the finest jewelry. His tone had gradually increased in meekness as he explained, “Someone rather important.”

Andrew removed his hand from the coffee cup, if only to wave away his manager. The styrafoam vessel found itself jostled out from rest shortly after.

“Just smooth it over,” he dismissed, “you’re pretty good at doing that.”

Lawrence’s eyes widened, as he pleaded, “But she’s going to be here any mome-”

“She?” the young office worker blurted out. His brow furrowed, as he glanced at his dancing cup. The tremors he had experienced were not a persistent phenomenon, they arrived and left at a steady interval. It was as if someone was using the Earth as a great drum, tapping out a mighty cadence for a grand, all-encompassing song.

Andrew felt frequent vibrations rush through his very bones, as a most audible thump could be perceived by the office windows. He stood up, turning towards the source of the sound. Over dozens of cubicles, his eyes found the transparent panel that showed the outside world.

However, his view of the town beyond had been obstructed, for in his line of sight was a face. It was that of a young woman. A small smattering of freckles dotted her cheeks and nose. Her lips, full, yet sprinkled with cracks, were pursed. Gray eyes filled the room with a serious gaze, a gaze so gargantuan it proved difficult to determine exactly where they looked. To Andrew, however, there was no doubt to where she directed her sight.

A finger, looming and monolithic, took up the adjacent frame of glass. Several workers milling about around the window were taken aback by such a massive digit occupying their vantage. Its girth was easily more than half the height of the employees gawking at it.

The giantess then retracted the offending digit. Still glaring at Andrew’s slumped form, her finger then curled upwards, beckoning him towards the window.

“I suggest you go, if only to keep the building intact,” his boss proposed, dabbing a fresh layer of sweat off his head.

Andrew rolled his eyes, an act that now required sufficient effort to effectively pull off. “What did she threaten to do this time?”

In a panicked stutter, Lawrence babbled, “I couldn’t stop her! She said she was going to tear the building apart, and flick me across town if I didn’t!”

An exhausted sigh exited the office worker, as he chastised, “Call her on it! You gotta push back! She loves trash-talk!”

Lawrence’s usually reddened complexion had taken on a pale palette. He gazed into the silver daggers that loomed outside. His head began bobbing up and down rapidly, as a smile stretched and strained his facial muscles. Trembling lips formed silent words that said ‘he’s coming’.

…

The office man trudged outside, a black bag slung around his shoulders. He had been in a trance throughout his journey, from entering the elevator, to passing through the lobby, to finally making it out the front doors. At times, it felt as if his conscious sense was ready to fly away. Dream and reality proved difficult to separate, and the sluggishness of his limbs did not help matters.

In shadow the sidewalk was cast. The adjacent street had also fallen under this darkness. Craning his neck back, it was not difficult to determine why this was. A corner block away, his wife stood upon a metal platform, elevated at least one story above ground level. Crisscrossing beams appeared to vibrate under each shift Caitlin made, her massive brown boots and treads testing the structural integrity of this particular innovation. Cars and pedestrians passed underneath. Some even bothered to look up, before going about their business.

Even though she towered above the surrounding buildings, Caitlin was squatting. Blue denim stretched over her generous thighs and calves. A heavy brown leather jacket loosely covered her torso, leaving the zipper undone, allowing a clear view of a white tank top which lay underneath.

Andrew made his way to the nearest intersection. High above, cradled in a calloused hand, rested his car. He could barely make out its faded maroon frame, for his wife’s curled digits hindered his sight line.

Once her view settled upon her husband’s slight, slumped form, she bellowed out to him, “I’ve got your car, so all that’s left is you.”

Andrew felt him nodding along, although not in agreement, “You could’ve just called me.”

Caitlin’s brow furrowed, “I did.”

Her husband gasped, “wha-?”

Before he could clarify or justify, the titaness interjected, with a smirk, “And you said ‘come and get me stinky’.”

A man brushed past the spent office worker, giving him a curious look. This did not disturb Andrew, nor his conversation, as he continued shouting at the sky, “Can’t be, I would have thought up a better insult than that.”

“Work’s fried your circuits Andy,” she asserted, wrapping her fingers around his car, “it’s a good thing I got here just in time, otherwise, you’d be a vegetable.”

“’I’m surprised you know what a vegetable is,” her haggard husband huffed.

Caitlin proceeded to store the economy vehicle in her chest pocket. The car was oriented head first, and easily slipped in. A visible lump marked where the automobile had settled, a mere sixth the area of the compartment that held it.

“I do,” she countered, her hands now empty, “they’re disgusting, which is why I don’t want you turning into one.”

A massive appendage descended, like a dark cloud delivering doom. Andrew’s muscles tightened in an instinctual manner, as he was pinched in between two digits, index and thumb. Hoisted off the ground with effortless motion, he was brought over his wife’s chest. While her heavy jacket did well to conceal her form, her tank top, on the other hand, strained to contain its bulging contents.

He eyed the lump that outlined his car, residing in her breast pocket. Caitlin’s hand hovered over the opposite chamber. Andrew gazed into a dark abyss, an abyss he could not see the end of. His baggy eyes refused to blink, lest the abyss blinked back. This abyss drew closer, until he found himself within the lip of the leather compartment.

Once her index and thumb parted, Andrew fell. He bushed against the soft interior, noting how it sloped to compensate for the hill it rested against. As darkness consumed his body, it also consumed his mind, and the instant he came to a stop, his eyes closed, and he was lulled into a slumber.

“Gee, you must’ve been tired…” boomed the voice of his wife from above. Despite the magnitude of volume her vocal chords could generate, Andrew did not stir from the comfort of his makeshift, vertical bed.

With a satisfied sigh, Caitlin stood to her full height, and began stomping her way home.

…

A gentle hand pushed aside the polyester door. The same hand then flicked the lightswitch, bathing the bedroom in warm incandescent light. Caitlin’s steps were soft, if only to minimize the sway of her jacket.

Longingly she peered down her chest, eyeing a small bump within her chest pocket. The compartment that held her husband, however, possessed no such feature. In fact, without prior knowledge, the giantess would have assumed it empty.

Her breath grew still, as her fingers probed, taking hold of the vehicle’s frame. The car’s manufacture ensured it was flexible, allowing some give to compensate for the force Caitlin’s massive digits assailed it with. As she dangled the Civic through the air, its back wheels swayed, while loose items within its interior were tossed and turned.

Slowly, the car was set upon the nightstand, behind the alarm clock. The clock itself dwarfed the car almost tenfold. Were it hollow, clock could have served as a spacious garage to park the Civic within.

Caitlin’s digits drew away, before approaching her other breast pocket.

Her index and middle slid into the leather material. Soft fabric gave way to the twin behemoths encroaching in on her husband’s resting form. From her vantage, powerful eyes proved insufficient to pierce the veil of darkness. But, what eyes could not see, touch could feel. A small spark tingled up her spine as she traced over Andrew’s delicate, diminutive physique. Even at such a small scale, the grime of overnight labor was apparent.

Gently securing her grasp on her husband’s insignificant frame, she drew her hand from her breast pocket. Dangling from her fingers, the top half of his body was completely obscured. Only his waist and legs were visible, utterly outclassed by his wife’s fingertips. They hung limp, for gravity and exhaustion clung to them.

Turning her hand over, the exhausted office worker tumbled down the length of imposing digits, before settling into Caitlin’s palm. For but a moment, his sprawled form lay still, before movement crept into his head.

Andrew’s eyes struggled to peer under heavy lids. He blinked rapidly, taking in the vast plain of calloused flesh that surrounded him. The view beyond his solitary platform had blurred profusely. A hand, with great effort, was brought over his brow. Through some sort of placebo effect, the vista beyond came into focus. His view traced along great rolling hills, before traveling upwards, before settling upon a tanned, freckled face.

“Had a good night’s sleep?”

Caitlin’s voice rumbled with the intensity of thunder. Even though her tone adopted a rather playful expression, its overwhelming magnitude rattled every bone in his body. Awareness quickly washed over him, as he quickly rolled upon his back, staring wide-eyed at the colossal landscape that lay beyond.

“Yeah.”

Spindly arms reached for the sky. Andrew’s face strained as painful relief flooded his muscles. Shaking off another bout of grogginess, the office man lifted himself on his feet. His black dress shoes sunk ever so slightly into the fleshy terrain of Caitlin’s palm.

He attempted to straighten his posture as best he could.  Surveying his surroundings once more, he said to himself, “I think there’s some other stuff I can get do-“

Andrew was on his back once more. Rough, callous skin began to envelop his form. Up above, a single finger pressed down.

Immediately did his limbs begin to flail. Fists flew, rattling against the hard surface of her finger nail. Legs kicked and bucked, attempting to dislodge the mass of flesh that had settled on top. His efforts caused him to sweat profusely, while all joints and muscles alike were alight with flame.

But, for all his action and bravado, her finger moved not a single inch.

As futility began to dampen his motions, a desperate plea was sent towards the heavens. “Cait!”

The giantess’s finger pressed even further down.

“Andy, you’ve been outta the house slaving away at that office for two days,” she reprimanded, her voice weighing on him even more than her index ever could, “You need to sleep.”

Once more, Andrew went still. His arms were splayed out to their side, heavy as lead, and strong as paper. His legs collapsed, bouncing on taut skin. He drew in a deep breath as the massive digit retreated. Even still, there was no attempt to make up lost ground, for the even greater weight of exhaustion had him trapped.

He felt the world itself reorient, as her massive palm had begun to move. The mighty platform he lay on hovered above the bed, directly over an off-white pillow that was due for a date with the washing machine. The man let out a gasp as the ground tilted, and he tumbled down, out of his wife’s hand, before landing into the pillow’s soft, cotton embrace.

A soft exhale exited the giantesses mouth, as she beheld the dark speck stuck against the white plain of her fluffy headrest. Her shoulders sagged, and at once, the heavy embrace of her jacket fell away. It crashed onto the carpet in a brown, leathery heap.

Her fingers then tugged at her waistline, shimmying down her jeans in a methodical manner. Caitlin betrayed a small smile, for she witnessed movement at the edge of her field of vision. Her husband had experienced a small shot of energy once the shapely sinews of her legs were unveiled. Gray cotton panties allowed his imagination to remain active, although granting it little breathing room.

Blue denim bunched at her knees, before her shins were released. Caitlin made sure to discard her black socks as well. Both joined her jacket on the floor, forming a heavy hill of clothing that could have enclosed an entire block of the neighborhood.

Caitlin’s torso gradually rose, her spine set back into alignment. Her thumbs wandered towards the hem of her tank top. With a single motion, she had torn off the scant cloth, leaving her torso bare.  It was whipped through the air, before being stricken to the ground, splashing into the pile of discards.

As enticing as the view beyond the edge of the mattress had become, Andrew found his attention drawn elsewhere. One foot plodded in front of the other. Weariness rendered balance a precarious task. His legs wobbled as he made his way off of the pillow.

Another step, and he lost his footing. Still, he managed to maintain an upright orientation, sliding down a gentle soft slope. Soon enough, he landed upon the mattress. His legs sunk into the bedsheets upon impact.

A grimace crossed his face while he began to make his way. His heading was volatile, for it followed wherever his eyes wandered. The immediate vicinity had been cast in shadow, a shadow which only appeared to grow each second. Still, Andrew pressed on, staggering towards the nightstand, before swinging about, and heading towards the foot of the bed.

Progress was halted, when a flesh colored wall blocked off his path. Several long dark lines marked the face of this massive obstacle, more than quadruple his height. It possessed multiple appendages at the end, which curled towards him, blocking off other vectors of escape. Immediately, the office man turned in the opposite direction.

Another wall of flesh, virtually identical to the one before stopped him in his tracks. Andrews swung to and fro, noting with urgency that the leviathans that had trapped him were advancing upon his position.

A flash of fury illuminated his dark eyes, as he glared at the perpetrator of his troubles. Caitlin’s hands had formed a loose canopy, around and above him, just in case he were to sprout wings and take off flying. Her torso hung over the bed much in the manner of a thundercloud; any sudden movement threatened to provoke a retaliatory strike of lightning.

“Can’t a guy be productive?” Andrew protested, finding rage easily slipping into his voice, “I can’t waste the rest of the day in be –“

His own rant was cut off by a profound yawn that stretched his mouth to the limit. Instinctively, his hands flew to his eyes, wiping away moisture born purely out of suggestion.

A brow rose from up above. Caitlin’s massive face remained unmoved. A booming voice filled to the brim with sarcasm struck.

“Uh huh. Sure.”

Her hands encased Andrew. One of her palms then slid across the mattress, forcing the exhausted man to tumble across its surface. Once ensured that he was safely resting upon her hand, her appendages rose, still trapping him in a fleshy cocoon.

Unveiling her encirclement, Andrew’s face squinted upon immediate reintroduction to light. He was not given a chance to act, for Caitlin's fingers had him pinned down again. Inhuman precision guided the intrusive digits, as he was hastily stripped of his office clothes. His white shirt and undershirt were pulled over his head, courtesy of a barreling index finger. Meanwhile, his belt was snapped by a mere nail, while another finger bunched his pants down his legs, then past his feet.

All struggles opposing his wife stripping him down were in vain. Even as cool air rejuvenated his stuffy, tired skin, he still attempted to wrestle with her fingers. In no time at all, however, he was down to just his briefs.

Caitlin set aside her husbands discarded clothes upon the nightstand. There was a slight smirk as she regarded the belt she had snapped. It appeared as two black stringy grains that had been stuck against her palm. I’ll buy him another one, it’s been a little while since I’ve broken his last belt.

Her sight veered back to her hapless husband, wedged within the three lines that ran through the plain of her paw. He attempted not even a wriggle, for to dislodge himself from such a predicament required an immeasurable amount of effort to even attempt. With a slight smirk, her hand cupped, further entrapping her beloved mite as the calloused pads of her hand enclosed around his spindly limbs.

The appendage that held Andrew veered over. Caitlin had turned over her opposite arm, presenting her wrist as parallel to the ground. Soon, her husband-laden hand hovered overhead, presenting a steep drop from one platform to another.

Andrew’s stomach dropped, as the ground beneath had begun to rotate. He had been to exhausted to account for the various instances his wife employed such a method to move him from one surface to the next. Despite this, his sense of vertigo did not leave him. His spent muscles could not fight against gravity, for the steep incline had provided the universal physical force an insurmountable advantage.

He slid down the width of the giantess’s palm, before dropping into a free fall. Lanky limbs flailed helplessly, compelled more by momentum than any conscious motion on his part. Wind resistance brushed matted and greasy hair out of his face, granting him an unimpeded view of the rapidly approaching wrist. Much like every other area of mention upon his wife’s person, it bulged with titanic brawn. In particular, a strong ridge ran from elbow to wrist, outlining several taut muscles.

Just before impact, Caitlin slackened her wrist, softening the definition visible, as well as her husband’s landing. On collision, he sunk into the limb. The entirety of his face immersed itself in tanned, taut skin. Strong fibers of stupendous might flexed and pulsed beneath him, as his frail form settled into the nook of her wrist.

There wasn’t even enough vitality stored within to even crane his neck to observe what would happen next. Andrew, however, would not get a chance. The instant he had landed, the weight of Caitlin’s domineering digit impressed itself upon him.

He was forced around the terrain of her wrist, kneaded into toned sinew. Periodically, he would encounter a soft strand of hair. Pressed from all around, his muscles ached in response. It was a pleasant sensation, and relief began to loosen his own stressed physique.

Caitlin cooed as she witnessed a single finger of hers nearly obscure all of Andrew’s form. Only the back of his head and the length of his legs remained visible. Even upon such a minuscule frame, she could feel his tendons tense and relax as she continued to massage him deep into her tissue. Her hand would periodically rise and fall, contracting and releasing her wrist muscle, further stimulating her husband’s exhausted flesh.

“Relax Andy,” she encouraged, “You’ve been on the grind.”

There was naught but silence. Andrew had been reduced to a creature where touch was his only sense. But, what he could perceive was at a greater spectrum than any he had once been able to throughout his life. He shivered as muscle fibers bulged and retreated. He was brought over humps of stiff, tough brawn and the valleys that lay in between. And yet, the grand landscape that he had become most intimately acquainted with was merely responsible for ensuring that his wife’s hands could rotate and turn.

Andrew forced his mouth shut, for he did not wish to make his desire audible.

The giantess then ceased her motion, before dragging her husband towards her elbow. He sailed over a mound of bulging carpi, before slipping into a great crater made by the joint. At this point, the skin he passed over had transformed from smooth and taut, to flexible and wrinkled. Some areas even clung onto him, before the strength of Caitlin’s digit overcame its grip.

Caitlin’s finger continued its effort, leading his hapless figure up an even grander hill. Its slope was far more pronounced. The flesh that lay beneath proved more tender, and he easily sunk into the mass he had found himself against. Less hair impeded his journey, in fact, where he lay, it was practically nonexistent.

A smirk crossed the titaness’s face as she clenched the fist of her free hand. Her bicep bulged out, vainly showing off every facet and dimension through tanned skin. There was a clear separation between the beefy, toned juggernaut of a muscle, and the triceps that encircled the back half of Caitlin’s arm. Andrew immediately experienced the flesh below harden. As a result, he too, tensed his own body.

With far less bumps and divots in her way, Caitlin was able to cover a wider area, as her finger circled across her vast arm muscle. As before, she oscillated between flexing and relaxing, using both her bicep and finger to squeeze out all stress that had accrued the past two days within Andrew.

“Just let big ol’ Cait take all your worries away.” she uttered, in a tone as warm as a blazing campfire.

Caitlin’s elbow rocked back and forth, pumping her sculpted bicep, subjecting her husband to its full smothering might. From what little she saw of him, hidden behind the tip of her finger, he could have been mistaken for a mountain climber. 

Eventually, her finger tired of slathering him against the expanse of her arm, and traced him along its length. The journey over her skin had evoked an enthusiasm he had considered himself far too dreary to even experience. Even as his face continued to be smeared against fragrant skin, he had to clench his teeth, in an effort to suppress what had awakened.

Her digit compelled him over a smaller, yet steeper hill. Here, the flesh below was as firm as it ever was; more so than on her wrist. Pressured deep into her shoulder, Andrew felt each individual fiber lurking below bend and strum, as if he were playing a harp with countless strings. All composed a monolithic deltoid that could have doubled as a domed establishment. Perhaps a greenhouse, for it houses all sorts of virulent organic material.

When Caitlin’s arm rose up, the surface Andrew had been kneaded into transfigured from firm to rock hard in an instant. Thus, his wife’s massage of him had intensified. Andrew could not help but allow moans to escape his mouth, all to be lost in a great expanse of skin, fat and muscle. A certain pain, emanating from his waist indicated resistance where there had been none earlier, for one member of his had stiffed further than the rest.

The finger holding him down relented, just ever so slightly. This respite allowed Andrew the luxury of yanking his head from its skinful embrace. A strong scent immediately hit his nose. It was an aroma without a clear identity, but one most certainly without a natural origin. It’s origin, thus, could only come from some sort of applied product, either a generic shampoo, or a particularly strong antiperspirant.

She did this for me.

Andrew groaned, trying in vain to pull up his waist from the ground. Scent and touch began to provoke shudders from his overwhelmed body and mind.

She wanted to smell nice so she could help me relax.

A spent constitution stood little chance against the onslaught. Resistance against the inevitable proved most hopeless.

Cait, you’re the most wonderfu-

Andrew let out an anguished squeak. His face was pushed into the face of the massive, rippling shoulder once more. Against immense pressure, his hips managed to gyrate ever so slightly, as all barriers he had established crumpled.

Once the deed had been done, Andrew felt the massive digit retreat. Caitlin’s deltoid lay flat, allowing him to turn over, allowing his back to rest against the hardened muscle.

He was faced with Caitlin’s heavy, steel-colored gaze. Piercing irises drove away all veils and deception, making the bare truth plain, as the stain upon his briefs.

Andrew was pressed into his wife’s flesh once more, all from the booming magnitude of her voice. “Huh, something’s off on here.”

The giantesses tone was rife with mischief. It was accompanied with a knowing smile that could have swallowed him up threefold.

A giggle provoked the ground beneath him to quake, “Oh dang, I’ve never been able to get you to squirt like that! You must’ve been really tired!”

Andrew’s hand flew over his waist, as best they could. His pale face had gone red, as he attempted to avoid staring directly into his wife’s imposing, yet playful glare, “S-sorry.”

“Sorry?” Caitlin repeated, raising an eyebrow, “What for?”

“It’s disrespectful to you,” the office man explained.

Caitlin’s expression did not change. Her finger was upon him again, imposing upon his abdomen. Andrew grunted, raising his arms in feeble resistance. The trunk-like digit advanced down his form, dragging along with it, briefs newly christened with moisture.

What had been revealed only encouraged an even wider smile from the giantess. Upon her cheeks, the smallest hint of red could be detected by an observant eye.

Her head then drew close to her shoulder, taking up his entire viewpoint. Andrew’s sight of the rest of the room was impeded. Without turning his head, there was nowhere he could see without an aspect of Caitlin’s face entering his field of vision.

As she spoke, her breath, fresh and minty, washed over him entirely. Every fiber of his being, both the physical and the immaterial were warmed thoroughly.

“As far as I’m concerned,” she purred in a voice that hung at the intersection of a growl and a whisper, “You can go ahead and paint me a nice shade of white if you want.”

The crimson shade that had invaded Andrew’s face threatened to spread to his neck and chest. He lamented his lack of stamina, for had he possessed such reserves, he would have had his head retreat to the sanctuary of his hands, hidden away from Caitlin’s teasing look.

A hand advance upon his position, and he was plucked off her shoulder. Caitlin turned around as she did this, allowing herself a seat on the mattress. Her legs, stocky and hefty, were hoisted up, before they too rested upon the bedspread. Allowing herself a sigh once her cumbersome mass sank down into the surface below, she proceeded to move Andrew over her stomach.

The office man could not help but hang his mouth in awe at the abdominal terrain below. Six squares of rigid musculature were carved into the ground. Dunes and divots, a favored spot to trek across, were flushed in both light and shadow under the incandescent bedroom lamp.

As great as the view underneath proved, its majesty would only increase as Caitlin’s hand descended. Nearly a story away from this masterfully trimmed wonder of his wife’s body, her fingers released him. He smacked straight against an ab, bouncing off of its massive face, before sliding down a relatively forgiving incline.

He came to rest in vast rut, flanked on both sides by muscles as unyielding as stone.

There was no attempt to gather himself, to get on his feet. He lay there, soaking in the sensation of the pulsing, stiff ground. A quaint, yet deep rumble could be picked up, and he pondered on which unfortunate morsels were being broken apart in the depths of his wife’s gut.

“I wonder what it would sound like when we do get lucky,” Caitlin mentioned. Her voice, still imposing and great, boomed in the distance, dampening its weight.

She continued, “If you could feel the little guy kicking down there.”

Andrew’s head turned to the side, murmuring, “There’s going to be nothing little if it’s a girl.”

Stillness permeated the room. The muscles and tendons within Andrew’s overworked body exuded a sensation of melting, a warm oozing impression that sank into the flesh below. Each passing moment, it seemed he sank even further into the organic washboard. It appeared to stretch into distances which would cover a continent.

But as in all things, stillness would be hindered by discord. Andrew glared down the length of Caitlin’s stomach, past her legs, down to two far-off feet that appeared to just stick up from the surface. With a low grumble, he pressed his arms into the fleshy ground. Despite feeling as if his body weighed several tonnes, he managed to heft his torso up, allowing his legs to provide auxiliary support.

Just as he was about to spring forth, the area around began to flex and contract. On both sides, massive dunes of musculature rose up, squeezing into the rut had had found himself in. In a moment’s notice, both abdominals met in the middle, sandwiching his lithe body. He strained and screamed, fighting against unyielding pressure. His arms battered against brawn with the toughness of titanium. Indeed, desperation made poor compensation for active strength.

The rest of Caitlin’s torso had risen up. Her abs were drawn taut, the lines differentiating them growing more dark and sharp in their definition. She glared down, her gaze flying past her imposing mammaries, down to the diminutive insect below, trapped in between two packs of six. Eyes squinted, as she witnessed him writhing like a madman, fighting in futility against two unmovable objects, two unstoppable forces.

“C’mon Cait!” he protested, his voice taking upon an uncharacteristic whine, “There’s so much stuff I need to do!”

“Like what?” Caitlin shot back, “Watching the paint dry?”

“I haven’t even rubbed your feet yet!”

Andrew’s limbs almost became a blur. Pure, defiant fury raged within, but there was nothing to show for it.

Instead, he continued to be swallowed up by the two crunching abs.

“You know, you’d probably get outta there if you had some rest.” Caitlin mocked from the outside of his muscular prison.

Even at my best, it would be all the same.

Finally, the office man surrendered. He went limp, drawing in heavy breaths. A fresh sheen of sweat coated his skin. Observing another victory, Caitlin relaxed her stomach, loosening her formidable hold upon her husband.

Sprawled and listless, Andrew lay in a helpless heap upon the vast rigid plain of Caitlin’s stomach. He was cast in shadow, for her hand had returned, and it retrieved him from the surface. A dark eye observed Caitlin’s monstrous leg tense and bend, bringing her foot closer. It lay upon its side, drawing him in as much as her hand was currently in the process of doing.

Before her sole, he was brought. A slight tinge of vinegar stung his nose, along with a pleasant hint of a menthol-based body soap. He could only gape at the sight of her padded heel, tracing every line that raced across the rough skin. He memorized every wrinkle and vein that lay under the skin of her arch. And, he captured every subtle wriggle of her toes. The pads of her foot sported reddened flesh and patchy callouses, adding rustic texture to an already exquisite sight.

Andrew could only hope that Caitlin was not paying attention to his own form, for he had gone straight in anticipation.

“Wanted to rub my feet?” she teased, swinging her hand ever so slightly, causing Andrew to buckle to and fro, “Here’s your chance. You know, you’ve really spoiled these puppies ever since we’ve been married. I figure they should return the favor.”

Without another word, Andrew was pressed into his wife’s foot. Her clean vinegary scent invaded his nostrils, while his face and chest were smothered by rough skin. His waist too, was impressed against her sole, provoking several grunts.

Caitlin suppressed a giggle. Despite the toughness of her foot’s exterior, she still felt every contour of her husband, both soft and hard. He was rubbed up and down, left and right, clockwise and counterclockwise. No area of hers missed his delicate touch. And, Caitlin certainly did not miss the one indelicate aspect she had detected.

“Heh, I thought you weren’t a foot guy Andy, or is that a 50 caliber Desert Eagle you’re packing?” she rhetorically remarked.

“Cait … it’s just … it’s just,”

Words struggled to exit his mouth, in part because they were muffled within the vastness of her sole. Volatile sensations sparked throughout his body, rendering him hard of speaking. Again, he clenched his teeth, fighting against the swelling tide growing within.

He was then moved to her toes, pressed under the joints of her big and second toe. Even compared to such digits, he was insignificant. They began to flex and curl, completely enveloping his body. The flesh was warm and inviting, while the scent of vinegar reached the apex of pungency.

Listlessly, did he watch the reddened skin of her toe advance and swallow him up. Darkness would envelop his vision, and for a few seconds, his world would be naught but sensations of enamoring, smothering flesh and intense aromas. For the second time that day, he felt his resistance whittled away.

Her toes then opened fully. After recovering from blinding light, Andrew let out a gasp.

He was staring straight at the heel of the opposite foot. With each passing second, he could make out an increasing count of ridges and dried skin as it drew ever closer.

Soon enough, he was smothered on both sides. To his back,  toasty, soft toes writhed and squiggled. To his front, imposed the skin of a rough, unyielding heel.

It was a war on two fronts he was bound to lose. Again, Andrew squealed in despair, as he lost himself once more.

Every micron of motion he made was enjoyed by the giantess, as she hummed to herself. She had experienced, within the depths of her feet, a frantic writhing, then a sensation of wetness. Caitlin drew her appendages apart. Andrew had been stuck to her toes by a thin sheen of perspiration. As she peered closer, she beheld a faint, pale stain that glistened in the light, plastered against her heel.

A deep red blush made it across her face. A single finger was brought to the marked heel, swiping off the opaque stain. She did not inspect the contents now splattered on her finger, instead choosing to submerge the digit into the deaths of her panties. A revealing squelching of wet tender flesh soon followed.

Andrew set his head back, shaking it. In an attempt at assertion, he remarked, “I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

Caitlin’s massive shoulders lifted and fell, “Might as well try something new.”

Her husband was freed from the slick of her foot. Her legs straightened out, lying her thighs flat and taut upon the mattress.

It was on this gargantuan pillar of muscle, where Andrew was deposited next. Darkened, smooth, shimmering skin extended into infinity. There was not even a quiver once he touched down. As the office man peered ahead, he observed the quaint plateau of his wife’s kneecap. Even further, stood the feet that had serviced him before.

Caitlin’s lips pursed, expressing something resembling disappointment. She brought a finger down upon her occupied thigh, forcefully rotating her husband’s body, until he was facing the opposite direction.

Andrew gulped, once he caught sight of the only article of clothing his wife had bothered to leave on. White cloth concealed and molded over a familiar foe he had too many entanglements with. It appeared for tonight, however, that Caitlin was willing to spare him.

His gaze would not linger for long, for he was massaged into her monstrous quad. Firm muscle, responsible for supporting such a titanic mass, caressed his body with surprisingly soft touch. He inhaled in more fresh, clean scents, arousing his gratefulness once more. Andrew took to murmuring into the planetary pillow of flesh, embracing a refreshing sense of tranquility.

“That’s it Andy,” he heard her purr in the distance, “Just enjoy yourself.”

It was a curious sensation, experiencing her husband practically dissolve against her thigh. Fuck, he’s so puny, he could run himself tired doing laps around it.

Her finger circled round and round. Warmth, exuded from the deepest depths. Andrew’s body was becoming slick with sweat. And while Caitlin herself remained nice and dry, something else within had begun to take on moisture.

She directed her husband down the inner slope of the stocky pillar. Several curves and valleys gave tone and definition to the muscles, now lovingly caressed.

The gap between her thighs began to close. Andrew manage to glace upwards, widening his eyes at the sight of an advancing wall of flesh, imposing and unstoppable. It towered above everything he knew. Cars, houses, even buildings were mere toys in its wake. And, it was headed for him.

Caitlin gave out a squeal, once her husband was trapped between her thighs. Lovingly, she rubbed them together, savoring the sensations of that insignificant nub rolling and writhing within. Andrew was no longer visible, completely swallowed up by smooth, toned flesh.

Within the intersection of the canyon walls, Andrew was not a man, but an amoeba of sense. He absorbed all that he could; the fragrant flesh with hints of minty menthol, the firm, taut muscles that pulsed all around him. Within this thigh-formed prison, he detected a hint, a mere hint, of a foreign aroma wafting from forbidden corridors.

Upon this fateful day, for a third time, Andrew would lose his way. His hips bucked and squirmed, operating entirely of their own accord.

An entire minute passed, and Andrew lay smothered in the darkness. His consciousness was threatened, and soon would relent. His nose scrunched as a matter of consequence from what had just occurred, he could smell his essence stained against the infinite canopy of his wife’s leg.

Caitlin parted her thighs. Fresh cool air tickled her skin. She stifled a chuckle, for a sharp eye managed to spot yet another white stain dotting her skin.

Gravity pried Andrew loose, and he fell. Down the height of the great thigh he traveled, watching various shapes of bulging sinew rush past. He soon collapsed upon the bedsheets, rendered completely immobile.

The giantess leaned forwards, and swiped off her husband’s latest show of devotion, depositing the milky liquid in the same manner as before. She peered down, admiring her husband’s still silhouette. It was a mere speck, residing in a grand valley formed by her domineering thighs, and a towering, panty-clad groin.

It was clear he had finally allowed rest to take him. His puny chest rose and fell in regular intervals. Andrew’s young, sharp face, once burdened with the stresses and obligations of the day, was now blank and tranquil.

A satisfied sigh was exhaled from her mouth. “Gee, for tiny guy, you sure put a lot on your shoulders,” she commented.

Once more, her index descended upon him. Instead of imposing, or restricting him, she tenderly ran it down what little length of body there was. If it were possible, she could mesmerize herself with the image of her sleeping husband for all eternity.