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Chapter 24

The next few days seemed to blend together for Emma; it didn’t matter whether it was night or day, hot or cold…she remained in the barn, curled up in the hay, trying to sleep as much as she possibly could. Whenever she was awake, her mind was troubled by a whole cacophony of memories that all clanged and clashed against each other in her brain, making it difficult to reason anything out. When she did try to focus on specific events, she either became terribly scared and remorseful, like when she remembered the vague image of ambulances dashing away into the dark, or vituperatively hurt and angry, like when she remembered how all those cops had shot at her…at her FACE…or when Daisy had opened her arms to Daniel as he staggered away from Emma…the two of them fleeing off into the night, to the house…away from her, clutching each other.

It was all too painful for Emma to seriously contemplate, and whenever she tried, her head quickly began to hurt so badly that she quickly gave up.

‘I can’t do it,’ she thought despondently. ‘I can’t think about it…ANY of it. I have no idea…no idea what’s going on.’

The bullets the police had shot at her hadn’t done any permanent damage, even the one that had nicked close to her eye. However, over the next day or two, the little pockmarks where the bullets had hit developed into an itchy rash, which partially spanned over the side of her right cheek and then down a little onto her neck. Emma tried to resist scratching it, but whenever it itched particularly badly, she just couldn’t help herself. Whenever she remembered that it was all because the police had shot bullets at her face, her mood soured, and she stewed in the anger that was once again beginning to encroach on her mind.

It didn’t help that she had become twice as hungry as she already had been before. Her massive growth spurt earlier in the week had created a permanent “new normal” as far as her diet was concerned. She was so much bigger than she had been before, and her body correspondingly required more food. Her father had started leaving food at the barn entrance. On the first day after the police had come, he had tried to engage her in conversation, but Emma had turned away from him, lying in the fetal position, showing him the huge expanse of her back.

“Just…just thought I’d, uhh…let you know, Em that, uh…that the cops in the hospital are…are all, uhhh…”

“What?” asked Emma in a hollow voice, staring at the opposite wall of the barn. “They’re all what, dad?” She felt oddly prepared to hear that they were all dead, and she had no idea how she felt about it. She felt like she would either be consumed by remorse, or would simply shrug and not feel a thing…it was a strange and unsettling place to be, mentally.

“They’re all…doing ok,” Jim said, stepping slightly around the dozens of bags of food as he tried to get a better look at Emma. Even though he was her father, and loved her dearly, he didn’t dare go into the barn. He and the rest of the family understood it as “her territory” at this point, and none of them knew how she would react if they came too close.

“A few are still in the ICU…but, uh…none of them have…have…”

“Died?” asked Emma in that same hollow voice.

“Yeah…they’re all…still alive,” said Jim. He was about to mention how a few of them, particularly the one Emma had swiped into the barn wall, had almost died, and would likely be handicapped for life, but his daughter’s voice sounded strange, and it sent chills down his spine. He decided to leave those details out.

Emma knew that he expected her to show some kind of reaction to this, but even the thought of this expectation annoyed her. She had no reaction. She felt nothing. And come to think of it, she just wanted to be alone. Jim could sense Emma’s feelings, and he pushed the bags a little closer to the entrance.

“Just, uhh…ok, ok, got your, uh…food here,” he said with uncharacteristic hesitancy and awkwardness. He started back in surprise and fear as Emma abruptly turned around in her lying position. Such a sudden movement from a 21-foot-tall giantess would have been enough to startle anyone, especially someone who had seen what Jim had seen the previous night.

Emma had seen her father’s scared reaction, and she couldn’t avoid a dark, mocking grin. Of course he was going to stagger back like that, the terrified little man. He was so tiny that of COURSE he couldn’t see that she was just lying there, minding her own business…any movement he made would totally freak him out.

‘Typical,’ she thought mockingly, shaking her head. ‘Typical tiny-person reaction…god I’m getting sick of it…so sick of it it’s actually getting funny.’

“S-sorry Em, you just…d-don’t scare me like that!” exclaimed Jim indignantly, obviously shaken as he continued stepping back with his hands held up.

“Psssh, you’re ridiculous dad,” Emma murmured, propping her head up on her arm. Even in this position, she was taller than him by a good foot or so. Her eyes fell on the bags of food, burlap bags, 16 in all.

‘That’s not even close to enough,’ she thought immediately. ‘I’ll eat it in ten minutes, and it won’t even dent my appetite.’

“A-Anything wrong?” Jim asked. He could tell that something was definitely wrong, but it was impossible for him to read Emma’s expression. She was smiling darkly at the food, almost smirking at it. More than anything, though, he was not encouraged by Emma’s attitude. If she had been remorseful and crying to herself when he came, it would have been easier for him to work with her. But she didn’t seem to be remorseful at all…worse, she didn’t really even seem to grasp what had happened.

“No,” said Emma suddenly, her eyes snapping back to her father. “Nothing’s wrong. Thanks for the food, dad.”

With her head still propped up, she used her free hand to reach over toward the bags, which were so small that she could pinch them in between her two fingers easily. Without even bothering to empty it out, she simply dropped the whole thing, meat, vegetables, bag, and all, straight into her mouth, chewing and swallowing the whole thing in a matter of seconds.

“Augh! Gack!” she exclaimed, sticking her tongue out a little as she gagged on the tough burlap. Emma felt a little irritated, in the same way that ordinary people do when they bite down on a bit of gristle in their meat, or a particularly tough stem when they’re chewing and swallowing vegetables. She hadn’t thought the bags would be too much of a problem going down, but apparently, they were a bit more difficult than she had expected.

Without pause, she pinched the second bag and dispatched it in exactly the same way, this time making sure to chew a bit more before she swallowed. Jim just stood there, watching his giant daughter wolfing down pounds of food, without even seeming to exert any effort. The sight was mesmerizing, but it was also frightening; in addition to the sheer enormity of her appetite, there was something unsettling about how she was eating the bags too.

But to Emma, it was simply easier than emptying the little things out into her mouth. Such an action would have required more effort and dexterity from her big fingers than she wanted to exert…and besides, the bags were just more fiber, anyways. Within three minutes, all 16 bags were gone. Only when there was nothing left did Jim realize that he had just been standing there, watching Emma eating.

“Uhhhh,” he muttered apologetically, and he made a move away from her back towards the farm house. He was suddenly realizing that he wasn’t comfortable just hanging out with her there, when there wasn’t food to distract her. The things he had seen her do the day before were still very fresh in his mind, and he had no idea how to predict what mood she was going to be in, or what she was going to do. It also didn’t help that her huge, curvy body was still completely naked. Jim hadn’t seen his daughter naked since she was 11 or 12, and now that he was seeing her 21-foot voluptuousness in all its glory, it wasn’t even a question of feeling awkward. He had absolutely nothing to go on.

“Wait…dad!” said Emma, and unconsciously, she knocked her fist into the ground. She had seen that he was going to run away into the house…that he was scared of her…that he was going to abandon her just like everyone else, and somehow, subconsciously, she knew that if she reminded him how big she was, it would make him stop. But she felt too lazy to actually crawl over and block his way, so she just brought her fist down into the ground…not too hard, but definitely hard enough to make the earth shake.

Jim stopped and turned around slowly, and Emma could see that he was shaking. “Wh-what is it, Em?!” he stammered.

‘Gee, maybe did it too hard,’ she thought. It was certainly a little funny, and definitely cute, to see her dad trembling like that. But more than anything else, Emma felt the prick of irritation growing stronger in her mind. For god’s sake, why was he being so freaking dramatic!? It was just HER, after all.

“I need more food than THAT, dad,” she declared, picking a strand of burlap out of her teeth. “That was like…a little snack.”

“O-ok…ok Em,” Jim said, nodding quickly. “I’ll, uhh…I’ll bring you some more here. Just might, uh, might have to go buy some more.”

“Ok, well…yeah,” said Emma, now feeling awkward herself. She saw her dad turn around again, as his shoulders slumped a little before he resumed the trudge back to the house. Somewhere in her mind, Emma knew that, in their terms, she had just eaten up four or five Thanksgiving’s worth of food…at least…And she knew that cost money. Watching her dad nod like that, Emma felt a little wave of guilt. Her poor little dad, going out to buy his giant daughter all the food she needs…her sweet, tiny little daddy…but even still, Emma just had a hard time wrapping her mind around the size disparity. If her parents kept bringing her these little “snack offerings,” what else was she supposed to do? She was hungry! She had to survive, after all! But all the same…

“Hey, uhh…dad?” she said, starting to crack an odd smile.

“Yeah?” he asked, turning back around to face her, blinking up at her blankly.

“Just let me know if you need, uhh…haha, any more fields plowed or anything…heheh…you know…stuff like that,” she said, chuckling at the perceived humor of what she was saying.

“I, uhhh…?” was all Jim could say. He didn’t know what his daughter was getting at, and he was starting to worry that she was playing some kind of messed-up game with him. His paranoia was beginning to get the better of him.

“You know…haha, don’t want you to think I’m like, ordering you all around like my little servants or something!” laughed Emma, now sitting up in front of the barn and folding her huge legs into a cross-legged position. She stretched her back and arched her spine backward, her muscles rippling as she stretched her torso out, gently tapping the back of her head into the wood of the upper barn. Even sitting down like this, she was over 11 feet tall.

Jim didn’t say anything — what could he say? Emma smiled down on him for a few more seconds, before adding:

“I mean, haha, I guess all I’m saying is that…just, let me know if you need some stuff done around the place that, uhm…that you can’t do yourself. Cause I got these big guns now, haha!”

Laughing, Emma held up her arms in a double-bicep pose, flexing them. She was just trying to be silly, to dilute the seriousness in the air, and she was also just genuinely trying to offer her services. But really, when it came down to it, Emma didn’t quite know what she was doing. She knew she was acting weird, but she was just plowing on ahead, trying to find some sense in it all.

“A-alright, Em,” stuttered Jim, quite intimidated by the size of Emma’s arms. They were proportional, but when she flexed them like that, it really just hit home how huge she was. He started backing away again, and was about to make a full turn when Emma stopped him one last time.

“Uh dad…” Emma began, but then she stopped. She suddenly feared dredging up buried pain.

“Em?”

“Is…is Daniel doing alright?” Her voice sounded hollow, like a stranger’s in her ears.

“He’s fine…doing fine,” said Jim stiffly, nodding his head. “Think he’s sleeping…uh, ok, gotta go get that food.”

Emma watched him go. He had answered too quickly. Her visage darkened, and she turned around and crawled back into the barn, trying over and over to swallow the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat.

Of course, Daniel wasn’t doing alright. He had been understandably shaken since Emma had…taken him against his will. He didn’t want to think about it in terms of the “r-word,” because doing so only made him feel more upset than he already was. Maisy and Jim were giving him his space in the house, and had seemed to have largely accepted that Daisy was the one taking care of him. Daisy, overcoming the more combative aspects of her nature, seemed to understand that Daniel was in shock, and that it wouldn’t help anything if she showed her own anger. Instead, she appreciated that it was important for her to show her calm, gentle support — she took him his food as he rested in bed; she sat with him; she suggested passing the time with shows she thought he would like, just to take his mind off what had happened.

And all the while, Daisy kept her own fury down. She couldn’t believe what she had seen Emma do to Daniel. Sensing trouble, she had quietly followed Daniel to the barn, and had called the police when it had become clear that Emma was about to do something terrible. Of course, now she was regretting that decision, but what else could she have done instead? She replayed the event over and over again in her mind, and there didn’t seem to be many good options. She knew that everyone — Emma included — was in uncharted territory, and had been so for a long time…but it didn’t help with how angry she had become at her “little” sister. As far as she was concerned, Emma had become a totally different person. Her growth condition, whatever it was, had clearly messed up her mind, to the point where she didn’t have a firm grasp on reality anymore. Deep down, Daisy knew that Emma hadn’t meant to cause any of the harm that she already had…in her mind, her sister had become mentally unfit, and could no longer be held responsible for her actions, at least in a legal sense.

But somehow, that wasn’t quite enough for Daisy. Emma was still “there” enough, mentally-speaking, for Daisy to feel like her sister hadn’t gone completely insane. And when she had watched Emma calmly take Daniel and abuse him in the barn, she had not been able to shake off that expression she had seen Emma make — it was delighted…transported, even. She had been excited to take him against his will. Exerting power over him had actually…turned her on, even. It all made Daisy feel sick, and she could not shake from her mind the thought that, even though her sister had definitely lost it, she was still somewhat present mentally. And this thought fueled her anger.

Even deeper down, of course, there were other things. Emma had always been a little prettier than her, a little taller, a little more ambitious. Emma had been the one to move to the city; Emma had been the one to land a handsome, gentle, caring boyfriend who made good money; Emma had done a lot of things that Daisy envied. But all of this was buried very far beneath the surface, and even Daisy herself wasn’t too aware of it all.

She just knew that, as the days passed by, she felt herself feeling more and more sorry for Daniel. The poor man, ordinarily in good spirits, had developed this kind of hollow-eyed stare, and rarely came out of his bedroom. Everyone felt bad for him, but Daisy was the one willingly shouldering the burden. Each passing day, she spent more and more time with him, and with this time, they grew even closer than they had already become.

Daniel knew that it was natural to be traumatized by what had happened to him, but the crushing sadness he was experiencing did not actually revolve around the events inside the barn. Instead, they were centered on this idea, which had been growing stronger each day he had spent on the farm, that Emma had grown into someone different…someone who he couldn’t recognize. The Emma he knew would never have violated him like that. Daniel had tried convincing himself that he hadn’t protested loudly enough, that she couldn’t hear him, but he knew it was useless. She HAD heard him…she had just laughed it off and chosen to do what she felt like doing.

‘She’s not a bad person,’ Daniel thought over and over to himself, the sadness squeezing at him harder and harder. ’She’s just…a different person now.’

Maisy was dealing with the trauma in her own quiet way. It had been especially wrenching for her to see her youngest daughter, her little Em, in such a situation with the police. There was absolutely no precedent for Maisy to fall back on…nothing she could take solace or comfort in. Any parent would have been harrowed by seeing their offspring shot at by police, and that sight alone had disturbed Emma’s mother badly enough. But the added sight of seeing her gigantic daughter…do those…those things to the police…the way she had swung her arm and plastered that man against the barn wall…the way she had kicked out and snapped that other man’s leg…the way she had thrown that lieutenant like he was nothing more than a rag doll…Maisy knew that it was by sheer fortuitous accident alone that Emma hadn’t killed at least a few of the police officers. The reality of her daughter’s power and strength — and more importantly, her will to use it — had dawned on Maisy like a blood-red sunrise, illuminating a stark and terrifying new landscape in her mind. She knew that Emma was still somewhere in there, somewhere inside that enormous, gigantic behemoth of a body…but Maisy had to grapple with the bare and painful realization that her daughter had grown into something genuinely unpredictable and terrifying.

So, having no idea how to navigate this horrible uncharted territory, Maisy started working on the only thing she could think of to somehow pass the time: clothes for her giantess daughter. Ever since Emma had returned from her “walk,” totally naked, with that wild light in her eyes, Maisy had felt like her daughter really had gone off the edge of the cliff, so to speak. It pained her to see Emma so exposed, even though her daughter didn’t seem to mind it in the least. The sight of Emma’s massive body was also deeply unsettling to Maisy, since the sheer extent of Emma’s curvaceous, voluptuous strength had clear sexual undertones — she looked like a Greek goddess, and even though she was Emma’s mother, Maisy had found herself unconsciously, helplessly gawking at Emma’s hugeness as she moved…her huge ass cheeks bouncing and jiggling up and down, back and forth, her big, heavy breasts swinging down from her gargantuan chest, the way the firm, feminine contours of her thighs shook and quivered with every thunderous step…it was all a bit much for Maisy, and so she set herself to working on an immense summer dress for her daughter. Somewhere in her mind, Maisy nursed a hope that if Emma wore clothes again, she might somehow “come back” to reality.

It took Maisy most of the next week to finish the dress; she knew that it was very likely a futile endeavor, since Emma’s growth spurt hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down recently. Jim was the only person in the household who saw Emma regularly, albeit briefly, when he would drop off her food outside the barn, and from him, Maisy learned that Emma hadn’t seemed that much bigger than she already was.

“Well maybe that’s good!” she had ventured hopefully. “Maybe that means she’s finally done…she’s finally grown as big as she’s gonna get!”

“I don’t know, Maise,” Jim had said doubtfully, looking towards the barn. “I just…I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Well I’ve got to count on something,” Maisy had retorted in a rare moment of flustered irritation, as she turned back to her sewing. “I’m making Em this dress, and I’m giving her an extra foot or two of room to grow into it. If she gets too big for it, then I’ll just…I’ll just make her another one.”

Jim blinked down at his wife’s work, which spanned the entire living room floor. He knew better than to call her efforts into question, especially at an emotionally volatile time like this, so he kept quiet. But he was curious about one thing.

“So, uhm…how big are you making it?” He didn’t know why he was so curious about this detail, but there was no avoiding the reality that he had, in a kind of strange, contorted way, become fascinated by his daughter’s size.

Maisy looked up. “The dress?”

“Yeah,” Jim said, averting his eyes away from his wife and staring down at the huge expanse of fabric splayed out across their floor. Maisy had chosen a baby blue color…the same color that Emma’s childhood bedroom had been painted.

“Well I thought…uhm, judging by what you’ve said…she stood up in front of the barn entrance the other day, didn’t she?”

“Yeah…she did.” Jim didn’t like to think too hard about it, since his memory of the sight made him feel as upset as it did intimidated. Emma’s head had actually risen a good deal above the entrance now, with her standing on her flat feet. She had been bouncing a little up and down on her toes, which made Jim feel terrified that she was about to do something. But it turned out that she had just been excited to eat the food he had brought…and in any case, she hadn’t seemed terribly interested in engaging with him. Jim couldn’t help but feel like his daughter was totally beyond him now, out of reach in every sense of the phrase. It didn’t help that her huge body looked about as delicious and alluring as he could have believed possible, and with her carefree flaunting of her nudity…well, Jim had no clue how to deal with it all.

“So the barn entrance is twenty feet, right?” came his wife’s voice.

“Uh yeah…yeah, that’s right.”

“So I’m thinking she’s what…22 feet or so now?” ventured Maisy.

“Sounds about right,” murmured Jim distantly, staring down at the colossal dress taking shape on the floor. “Maybe a bit more at this point.”

“Right, well, I’m making this dress to fit a 25-foot woman,” said Maisy, working as she talked. “So even if she does keep growing…hopefully this’ll tide her over for…for a little bit, at least.”

She had been about to say “for a few weeks,” but she knew that it was pointless to even try hoping to box in Emma’s growth into timelines. She didn’t have an inkling of a clue what size her daughter would be that far into the future. Even more pressingly, however, she hadn’t mentioned this time frame because there was a growing sense, in a dark part of her mind, that something was going to happen between now and then…something big. A crushing sense of dread was settling into the entire household, and its grip was such that everyone felt it, but no one wanted to talk about it.

A couple days after the police had left, they had all noticed drones starting to hover more conspicuously over the farm. Emma had been the last to notice, since she stayed in the barn most of the time. But to everyone else, the little robotic specks in the sky had become an everyday occurrence. They all knew why the drones were there, but knowing didn’t help ease any of the anxiety. After the third day, the family finally broke down and agreed that Jim should phone the police, asking what their next move was going to be. They all dreaded the answer — they were preparing an operation to arrest Emma, or even worse, to kill her — but when Jim got through, the cops would not give a straight answer.

“You mean to say that all these drones flying around…they’re not yours!?” Jim had asked incredulously. “Well whose are they, then??”

“Sir, I’m not at liberty to discuss that information with you,” said the officer tersely on the other end. “Let me just repeat my very clear warning: you and your family should leave your homestead immediately, for your own safety’s sake. The department will set you up in a hotel room at no expense to yourself, until an appropriate time in the future, when the danger has been lifted.”

“B-but…but hang on a minute, now!” exclaimed Jim, becoming hot as he started raising his voice, “You’re…you’re talking about my daughter there! “Danger lifted!?” What does that mean??”

“Sir…” said the officer over the phone.

“And…and we can’t just abandon her here!” shouted Jim into the phone. “She needs…she needs a lot of food, and…who’s gonna provide for her, if not for us?”

“We’re well aware of her peculiar needs, sir,” said the officer. “I’m just saying that you would do well to look after your — ”

“I AM looking after my family!!” thundered Jim, getting very red in the face. Maisy and Daisy looked at him, bewildered. Neither of them had ever seen him like this before.

“Emma IS family!!” he continued, yelling. “She’s my DAUGHTER!!”

“Your daughter raped her boyfriend, and then seriously injured a dozen police officers who tried to stop her,” retorted the officer. “We’re not responsible for her behavior, sir. One last time, get out of there, for your own benefit. We’re not going to warn you again.”

Jim slammed the phone down. His wife and daughter looked at him with wide eyes, neither of them daring to speak for a few long moments. A gentle rustle made them turn; Daniel had limped out into the living room, to see what all the shouting had been about. Somehow, he had known the gravity of the conversation.

“What’d they say?” asked Maisy in an ashen voice, after the silence had become unbearable.

“He said…he said that he’s not telling us where the drones come from, and that we should get out of here.” Jim’s voice was as tense and set as his jaw.

“You mean…leave her?” asked Maisy. “Just…leave Emma here by herself?”

“They’re preparing some…operation or whatever,” said Jim helplessly, his tension breaking as he sighed out and shook his head.

“To arrest her?” asked Daisy, who had gone over to support Daniel, whispering to him that he should go back to bed. Wordlessly, he shook his head at her.

“I don’t know,” said Jim in a hollow voice, staring at the dress-in-progress on the floor. “I don’t know what they’re planning to do to her. He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Well I mean, of course they’re just…just going to arrest her, right?” asked Daniel, waving away Daisy’s gentle insistences that he get back to bed. “She didn’t…kill anyone.”

His words hung unpleasantly in the air; everyone, including Daniel, knew that the only reason this was true was pure luck.

“So…so they can’t…they can’t do anything worse to her, right?” Daniel continued, a little shakily.

“I don’t know what they can do,” said Jim darkly, shaking his head again. “I don’t know…”

“I know one thing,” said Maisy emphatically, making it a point to sit back down to her sewing as she got busy again. “I’m not leaving her here alone to be…to be taken away by whoever.”

“Maise, you know that it’s gonna happ—” began Jim despairingly, but Maisy cut him off.

“I’m not saying it’s not gonna happen, Jim,” she snapped. “I’m saying that if and when it does happen, I’m gonna be here. I’m gonna watch them do it so they…so they’ll have to murder her in front of her own mother, if that’s what they’re planning…”

Maisy’s voice cracked and broke down, and she started crying, her body shaking and convulsing as she sat in place. Jim came over and silently put his arms around her, and after a few seconds, Maisy seemed to recover herself, looking quickly up and Daniel as she wiped the brimming tears out of her eyes.

“I…I know she hurt you, Daniel, and…and I’m just devastated about what happened. She was very wrong, very wrong, to do that to you,” Maisy continued. “But she’s still my daughter, you know, and I’m not leaving her here alone.”

“I know, Maisy, I know,” said Daniel, extending out his hand in a calming motion. “I’m not…I’m not leaving her either…leaving her alone here…uhm…y-yeah…you don’t…uh, you don’t have to explain it to me.”

An odd silence followed his words. Everyone wanted to say something, but no one had any idea what to say. The dark reality of their situation was tangible, palpable…they could all taste it. The uncertainty of what was going to happen only made it worse.

“Come on,” whispered Daisy gently to Daniel. “You shouldn’t even be walking around right now — look at you…you’re about to keel over!”

“Well…heheh, uhh…I think you’ve got me,” chuckled Daniel, finding a strange, humorous comfort in Daisy’s warm touch. He had his arm around her shoulder now, and he could feel the muscles in her back working to keep him supported.

“Not for much longer, I don’t!” she countered, matching his sudden lightheartedness with some of her own. “Come on, let’s go! Back to bed…you’re taking my shoulders for granted.”

Maisy and Jim watched them go, and both parents felt a bizarre sense of pride for their eldest daughter. This hadn’t been easy on anyone, and they knew that Daisy had been especially enraged and alienated by her sister’s behavior. To see how she was using her energy to support and care for Daniel, in the midst of his own torment, made them both feel like there was perhaps some kind of light at the end of the tunnel, though neither of them had it in them to speculate what that light might actually be. Maisy watched them for a bit longer than her husband, and something pricked in her brain as she watched how carefully Daisy was leading Daniel, with her arms around him, and how willingly he let her lead. But she wasn’t going to go any further with these thoughts, and she pursed her lips, setting herself back down to her sewing work, as the gentle whine came snaking into the house of more drones hovering outside.

Maisy worked with more diligence than even she was accustomed to. There was a growing sense that she was working against the clock, and so she stayed up extra late that night to work, eventually taking a little time to sleep before she finished it mid-morning the next day. Jim had already taken Emma her bags of food, which now had gone up to 16 a day, and he came back a bit shaken from watching her eat. She wasn’t even gagging on the bags anymore — she just seemed to drop them down into her mouth, barely chewing, before swallowing it all whole.

“She in a good mood?” asked Maisy, unsuccessfully trying to keep the uneasiness out of her voice as she blinked brightly at her husband.

“I…couldn’t really tell,” he said, settling down into his armchair. He already seemed exhausted, even though the day was just a few hours old. The truth was that the nearly-constant presence of drones hovering over their farm made him worn-out with anxiety and anger. Jim resented this kind of intrusion into their lives, even though he knew perfectly well why it was happening, and even that it might actually be justified. He hated the uncertainty, and the power that the authorities were wielding over them all, playing their cards close to the chest and all…a couple times, Jim had actually had to resist taking his rifle and dispatching a few of the drones on his own. He knew, though, that such behavior would be counterproductive, and would land him in serious trouble eventually. So he tolerated it all, just waiting…waiting for something to happen.

“Oh?” asked Maisy as she folded up the new dress into a large sofa-sized object in the middle of the room. Again, she was trying to sound light and nonchalant, like she and Jim were discussing Emma’s moodiness when she had been a teenager.

“She didn’t really pay too much attention to me,” Jim sighed. “She just…ate her food, you know…watching the drones moving around overhead, out of her reach.”

“Did she say anything about them?” Maisy asked.

“Nope,” replied Jim, shaking his head. “She just looked at them silently…I have no idea what’s going on in her head. When she, uh…when she did look at me…”

“What?” Maisy pressed.

“She just…I don’t know Maise,” said Jim, gesturing helplessly with his hands. “The way she’s been looking at me these last few days…it just scares me.”

“Do you think she’s thinking about…about doing something to you?” asked Maisy seriously, feeling a surreal clench in her stomach.

“I — it’s not that, so much.” Jim was straining to explain himself. “It’s more just that…I don’t know…she’s got this look in her eye, it’s hard to describe, Maise…there’s something “off” about it. It’s like she’s not looking at me as a…as a person anymore.”

“Oh come on, Jim…what can you mean by that?” asked Maisy, chuckling a little to chase away the latent fear growing in her.

“I mean…it’s like, imagine you’re her,” Jim responded, sitting up a little in his chair. “I’m looking UP at her calf muscle now, Masie. Her calf. I couldn’t even touch her knees, even if I reached up as high as I could and jumped, for crying out loud!”

“I know she’s big now and all…” Maisy began, but this time it was her husband who interrupted.

“Big?!” he exclaimed, his eyes blinking and suddenly going wide. “Maisy, she’s gigantic!! Her…her hips are like…I mean…her legs are like fuckin’ oak trees!”

“Jim!” scolded Maisy. “Is that language really necessary?”

“I’m sorry hun, I just…I don’t know how else to get my point across,” said Jim genuinely. “The way she moves, I can feel it in the ground when she props her head up on her elbow or something…I’m not even talking about when she stands up, Maisy, I’m talking about —”

“I know Jim, I know,” reassured Maisy, coming over and putting her hand on his shoulder. “I’ve seen her…you don’t have to describe it.”

“You haven’t seen her recently,” muttered Jim, letting his wife massage his shoulder with her hand. “She’s definitely gotten bigger.”

“Well hopefully not too big for the dress?” Maisy gestured over to the folded stack of fabric.

“Not yet…I don’t think,” said Jim quietly. There as a brief pause, and neither of them said anything as they stared at the summer dress Maisy had made. It certainly was nice, but it was so huge that it would have seemed comical, if not for the serious underlying tone.

“She just looks at me like I’m a…I don’t know…a squirrel or something, murmured Jim.

“A squirrel!?” Maisy laughed.

“Or a cat…or a dog or…something, I don’t know,” continued Jim in that same quiet, pensive voice. “Like she can’t even really wrap her head around that I’m a person.”

“Well I’m sure she knows you’re a person,” said Maisy reassuringly as she stopped her massage and rounded on the huge folded dress. “In any case, if you want I can talk to her about it when I bring this to her.”

“Please don’t,” Jim replied immediately. “And I don’t even know if it’s a good idea for you to —”

“To what? Visit my daughter?” asked Maisy. “No Jim, I’m sorry, I don’t care what the risk is to myself. I’m going to give Em this dress and I’m going right now. Are you going to help me load this thing onto a cart or not?”

“Sure I’ll help,” Jim sighed. “Just don’t count on her to accept it. I think she likes being…like she is.”

“Well I can’t stand to think of her out in the barn like that,” declared Maisy firmly. “I have to try and get her to wear it, Jim. Maybe it’ll make her feel more normal again.”

After Jim helped Maisy load the dress onto the cart, she rounded the side of the house, pushing the cart as she made her way up towards the barn. When she got a clear view of the whole farm, however, Maisy stopped and turned toward the pond. Even at this distance, she could see that Emma was sitting there on the edge of the pond, staring off into the distance as two or three drones hovered high above her head, their sights clearly set on her like buzzards in the sky. Maisy swallowed the lump in her throat and started heading that way.

‘These drones really are ridiculous,’ she thought irritatedly, as they buzzed over her own head. There had to be at least five or six of them over the farm right now, at least. ‘Now I know why Jim was so mad about them.’

Maisy tried hard not to think about whoever was operating the drones, and what they were planning. All she could do was try and see if she could somehow pull her daughter back from the brink.

The closer she got to Emma, the more nervous Maisy became. There wasn’t any question in her mind now — Emma definitely looked bigger. As Maisy approached the pond, she saw that Emma was quietly moving her extended legs up and down, up and down, in the water. Even though she was sitting on the shore, Emma’s legs almost reached a quarter of the way to the middle of the pond itself…and even though she was moving her legs slowly, languidly, she was making such big waves that the water was overflowing the banks all around the pond.

But Emma didn’t seem to take much notice of that, or of anything else, for that matter. She was staring out into the sky, with an inscrutable expression on her face that Maisy could see as she sidled up close to her. She didn’t want to get too close, but she also didn’t want to make it obvious that she was scared of her daughter. She settled for a good twenty feet away from her, and, summoning her courage, called up to her.

“Em? Em, I’ve brought you something!”

The sound of her own voice broke her heart. Try as she might, Maisy’s voice was shaking. She was suddenly overcome with emotion — she felt so bad for her daughter, and what had happened to her. But at the same time, her voice shook from fear. Even sitting down, Emma was over 11 feet tall.

The wind seemed to whip around (even though there was no wind), and Emma turned her head and looked down at her mother. She blinked her big eyes a couple times, and for several long moments, Maisy wasn’t even sure that Emma recognized her. The way that her daughter was looking at her…it instantly made her think back to what Jim had said…and she suddenly understood what he had meant.

‘Like a squirrel…’ His voice echoed in her head.

Maisy was just about to say ‘I made you a dress!’ up to Emma, but just then, her daughter turned back away from her, instead choosing to look at her feet as they gently kicked back and forth in the pond. Maisy stood there with her cart for a little bit, not knowing what to do. And then she came closer.

“Em…I’ve…I’ve made you a dress!” she called up. “It…it should fit you, I think! Y-your…haha, your dad thinks you don’t wanna…uh, w-wanna wear anything, but I thought…I just thought that m-maybe…maybe you’d like it!”

“You made me a dress?” asked Emma, turning back around and peering down at her mother. Maisy stopped dead in her tracks. She knew that her daughter was talking at what to her seemed a normal volume, but to Maisy, her voice was almost deafening. The bass and timbre of the sound itself rattled and vibrated through her entire body. She was instantly reminded of the first time she ever went to a movie theater as a young girl, and had to be taken out crying by her father.

“Y-yes! Yes, and it’s…it’s baby blue!” exclaimed Maisy. “You’ve…always liked that color!”

Emma frowned slightly down at the pile of fabric in Maisy’s cart, but quickly her expression changed as it dawned on her that her mother had carefully folded the dress up and put it in the cart. Emma blinked again, and an amused sparkle of recognition lit up her eyes. Maisy felt excited, but even in the midst of her excitement, she could see that her daughter looked tired…so very tired, and that the sparkle in her eye was in spite of the overall brooding and melancholy energy that surrounded her.

“You didn’t…make it by hand, did you, mom?” Emma asked, tilting her head to the side as she studied the tiny figure beneath her.

“I…I did!” Maisy shouted up to her. “You know I did!”

Emma splayed a huge hand across her cheeks and over her face for a while, so that only her eyes were showing, as she continued to look down at the folded dress. Maisy didn’t know what it meant. Was she about to cry? Was she laughing? Surely she wasn’t put-out!? Or was she??

“If…y-you don’t want it, that’s o-ok,” said Maisy, when she could take the silent tension no longer. She was deeply intimidated by just looking at Emma’s hand, as it gently kneaded into her cheeks.

‘How is she even having human thoughts anymore?’ The sudden thought popped into Maisy’s mind. ‘She’s something else entirely now.’

Maisy tried to shoo this thought away — it felt dehumanizing to Emma…or…something of the opposite. Either way, she didn’t like it, and tried to pretend the thought hadn’t occurred to her.

“No, mom,” said Emma quietly, removing her massive hand from her face and arching it over and down, towards the cart. Maisy instinctively backed up a couple paces, but then forced herself to remain still. Even though her daughter’s voice was still very loud…and huge…there was a kind of quiet, tired gentleness in it that reassured her. Maisy watched in wonder as Emma’s thumb and forefinger pinched the fabric and effortlessly lifted it up. It had taken the combined effort of Maisy and Jim to lug that dress up onto the cart, and it hadn’t been an easy effort, either. But Emma was lifting the dress up now with her two fingers as if it weighed no more than air. As Emma’s hand rose up, the dress spilled out, unfurling, and showing its actual shape. Maisy watched as her daughter’s bottom lip quivered an instant, before twitching into something like a smile.

“I can’t believe you made this for me, mom,” murmured Emma, her eyes going up and down the dress as she held it up before her. A slight midday breeze suddenly kicked up, breathing a delicious breath of fresh air through the dress, rippling it slightly in the air.

Maisy thought this was all going so well that, for the moment, she forgot that there were surveillance drones humming and buzzing overhead. The moment was too beautiful to be corrupted by anything.

“Do you…wanna try it on?” ventured Maisy. “Just…you know…to see if it fits?”

It felt crazy, but she was actually slipping back into her role as a mother again. But then, after nodding silently, Emma stood up, and Maisy had to take another couple steps back. The moment wasn’t shattered by any means…but it had definitely changed into something else. All of a sudden her daughter was in the sky, and holding the dress high up above her glorious, curvaceous body. The dress itself may as well have been in the clouds. It was absolutely mind-boggling to Maisy how such an ungainly, heavy object like that dress could be so quickly and effortlessly whisked into the air that high…but looking at her daughter’s body, it made complete sense why this could be so.

Once again, Jim’s words seemed more correct than ever — Emma’s legs did look like trees: strong and sturdy, and yet, at the same time, inescapably feminine. Maisy had never felt so small in her life; she quickly realized that there was more mass in a single one of Emma’s calves than there was in the entirety of her body…probably even twice as much. Her daughter was so enormous that she seemed to have her own weather system — every time she moved, she created wind, and the temperature of the air seemed to change with her movements. Maisy didn’t know what was real and what was a mirage at this point. Looking up, she could hardly even read Emma’s facial expression, it was so far away.

The dress came billowing down, like some kind of spaceship from the sky, as Emma stretched her long, firmly-sculpted arms through the spaghetti straps. The wind from the descending dress blew back Maisy’s hair, and she took a few more steps back, this time just to shield herself from the heavy activity going on above her head.

“Ha! Hahahaha!” laughed Emma, the sound booming out across the farm.

“D-does it fit!?” shouted up Maisy, but Emma hadn’t heard her mother. She was too busy spinning around, first left and then right, as the dress surged in a rotating circle around her mid-thighs.

“I can’t believe it!! I can’t believe it!!” sang Emma exultantly, seizing the edges of her dress with her hands and shaking them excitedly. “An actual DRESS…that FITS me!! Actually, it’s even a little big on me, hahahaha!!”

“Oh! Oh Emma, that’s…that’s just great!” yelled up Maisy, who was now in full retreat, running away from her dancing, spinning daughter. She was acting on pure instinct now — she knew that Emma didn’t really know where her body was. A second later, there was a splash as one of Emma’s feet came hurtling down into the shallow water of the pond’s edge. Emma didn’t even seem to notice, though, and a few seconds later, she was laughing and dancing in the pond itself, the water coming up to around her knees. She twirled and weaved in disordered circles as her huge breasts heaved to and fro with the force of her momentum, first left, then right. The ground was definitely shaking now with her stomping movements, even if they were somewhat deadened by the pond.

Once Maisy was a good distance away, she turned around again. It was an incredible sight — her gigantic, beautiful daughter, in a baby-blue dress that was a little too big for her, splashing and dancing around like a nymph in the water.

“Hey!!” thundered Emma suddenly, averting her head upward towards the drones, which had all lowered themselves a little closer, so doubt so their operators could see what on earth was going on.

“HEY!!” repeated Emma, bending down and cupping a huge amount of water in her hands. “HEY YOU GUYS! Guess WHAT!? My mom made me…a…DRESS!!”

At the word “dress,” Emma sent the water hurtling straight towards the nearest drone, and even though it was a good 40 feet off the ground, out of her reach, it couldn’t get out of the way of the powerful volley of water, which struck it hard and sent it into a jerky down-spin towards the pond. Emma laughed loudly as she caught the drone in her bare hand, and held it up to her face, making wide eyes at the camera.

“You guys hear THAT!?” she yelled at the drone in her hand (which was no bigger than an acorn to her now). “LOOK at it! She made it all by herself!!”

Emma then turned the camera around and scanned her body up and down, giving the drone operators a good look at the new dress, and at her powerful curves.

“You pervs!” Emma laughed, winking at the camera as she brought it back toward her face. “Spying on me all the time — I bet, now that I have a dress on, you wanna look up it, huh? Well I’ll make it easy for you — here ya go!”

Giggling, Emma stuck the drone up under the dress. She had no idea why she was doing this, except that it seemed funny at the time. She wasn’t even thinking about the fact that her mother was standing there, at some distance, watching her and having no idea what to think. Emma briefly considered shoving the drone deep inside her, just to play around with these fuckers.

‘Might be nice to actually have something up there again!’ she thought humorously to herself.

But she quickly realized that she wanted to crush it more instead, while they watched. After dancing around some more in the water, she pulled the drone back out from under her dress, and held it up to her face again. This time, though, her ecstatic face was twisted in fury.

“THERE! You disgusting perverts!” she spat at them. “That should tide you over for awhile…and now…goodBYE!”

She tried to imagine the operators, whoever they were, watching on their screens as she crushed the drone into a shiny disk of metal, flicking it like a discarded hangnail into an adjacent field. She turned back towards Maisy, but her mother had already retreated into the house. She was happy that her daughter had loved her gift, but Emma’s erratic behavior had just proved too much for her. It upset Maisy to see her like that.

‘It’s some kind of mental illness, to go along with the physical…growth,’ she thought, coming inside. ‘It just…has to be. She really has lost it.’

Emma had stood there in the pond, breathing heavily for a few long seconds, before she sighed and sat back down at the pond’s edge, going back to her pensive foot-swishing in the water. She wasn’t quite sure why she had erupted like that just now, but it definitely felt good, to somehow get back at those pesky bastards who were spying on her night and day now. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, Emma knew that the drones indicated something foreboding, like the early small meteorites that heralded the arrival of the comet that ended the dinosaurs.

‘Silly little tidbit,’ she thought to herself, laughing, remembering the first day she learned about dinosaurs in the third grade. Still, though, it was accurate. Deep down, she knew the drones were omens for something else…something big. But she just didn’t care to think about it. She was so huge now that she felt invincible. She even caught herself daydreaming about swatting police helicopters out of the sky, as they fired round after useless round at her.

‘Well that’s not until I’m like…50 feet or something,” she thought. ‘Take it easy!’

More and more these days, it felt like her brain was in a fog. Once she tried alighting on something concrete to think about, she either became confused, angry, or terribly sad. The miniature size of everything around her was the confusing bit — every day, she felt more and more like she had been dropped out of an alien spaceship, into a tiny little dream-world where all the people were little, all the houses were made of stuff she could break or crumble with her hands in an instant, and where the very landscape itself seemed like it was teasing her with how insufferably small it was. The pond was just one of a hundred examples. It wasn’t even really a “pond” at all…it was just a big puddle!

She got angry whenever she thought about how those cops had shot at her, and how that one cop had nearly blinded her with that rifle shot. the bullet-rash on her face was starting to go away, but it still itched and stung. The drones were a constant nuisance, and a reminder that whatever had happened that night, the consequences were not going to be avoided.

‘Let em’ come at me, then,’ she thought defiantly. ‘I’m not going to be so gentle with them this time.’

But it was whenever her thoughts turned to Daniel that Emma grew terribly sad. She couldn’t really understand why he hadn’t come back to the barn to see her. Whenever she thought of coming out of the barn and going to her house to see him, though, she always pulled herself back. Somehow she knew that there was only going to be pain waiting for her there…plus, whenever Emma thought about Daisy now, she could feel the hot anger bubbling up inside her, and even in her disordered and confused state, Emma knew better than to court and nourish those kinds of feelings.

The days passed slowly by, and with the passage of time, Emma could tell that she was growing even more. It was nothing like that crazy spurt she had had before, when she grew three whole feet in a matter of minutes, but the constant soreness in her muscles, and the perpetual deep ache in her bones, told her that her growth was far from over. The dress her mother had made her, which was delightfully loose-fitting before, was now, day by day, becoming tighter and tighter around her body. Emma kept the dress on most of the time; she enjoyed how well it fit her, and even as her body grew into it, filling it, the fabric gave way with a pleasant elasticity. Still, though, Emma couldn’t avoid the realization that, a few days after she had been gifted the dress, there wasn’t any more loose space to fill. And then, inevitably, the next day, it was a little tighter, and the next day a little tighter still, until, by the end of the week, the dress itself left marks on her body whenever Emma took it off.

As her body grew, so too did Emma’s appetite. She had been eating 16 bags of food for breakfast and dinner each day, but that steadily grew…17 bags one day, and then a couple days later, after a pointed complaint to her father that they weren’t feeding her enough, she counted 18 bags…then 19, and finally 20. Still Emma wasn’t satisfied, but the additional bags at least put something of a dent in her seemingly-bottomless hunger.

The sheer novelty of her body’s growth was enough to distract Emma from her troubles much of the time. She amused herself by seeing how tiny the barnyard tools were in her hands now. The pitchforks and shovels were like little utensils to her now, so much so that she accidentally snapped her father’s pickaxe with her fingers while she was playing with it, splintering the thick wooden handle like it was a toothpick. The bales of hay reminded her of stacks of kleenex, which was appropriate enough, since one time she sneezed straight into them, instantly obliterating twenty bales and causing them to fly about the barn for some time, eventually all drifting back down to the floor in a disorganized heap. The horses and sheep were like little stuffed animals, whenever they dared to venture into the barn, but this rarely happened anymore. Much to Emma’s dismay, all the farm animals seemed afraid of her and stayed well away.

Once, toward the end of the week, when Jim was dropping off the food, Emma, to amuse herself, extended her leg out and stuck her bare foot up next to her father’s body. Jim had frozen in fear, and Emma had let out a pleased giggle.

“Dad…haha, look, my foot’s over half as tall as you are! What about that, huh?”

“Y-yeah…h-how…about that!” laughed Jim. He couldn’t get back to the house fast enough, and for the rest of the day, and on into the night in his dreams, he returned again and again to the sight and feel of Emma’s toes wiggling up against the side of his lower torso.

But more than anything else, as Emma passed the long, languorous hours of the day in the barn, she could feel herself becoming more and more lonely. The same question bandied about in her brain, and as much as she tried to find distraction in other things, she could not turn away from the question in the end:

Where was Daniel?! Where was her little man??

It had been about a whole week now, and still, no word from him…nothing. Whenever Emma thought about him, her conscience pricked at her incessantly, like a poisoned pin…but she didn’t know why. She thought back to their last encounter, when she had maybe gone a little overboard, it was true…but that hadn't been the first time she had been a little careless in her lovemaking with him! And anyway, it was all just because she loved him so much, and wanted to cuddle him and kiss him and suck his adorable little cock and make him cum over and over again down her throat. What wasn’t to like about that!? Surely…he…he still liked her, right?! Surely he didn’t think she had grown into…into some kind of freak??

‘No, no,’ she would reassure herself, whenever this ugly thought resurfaced in her mind, ‘HE’S the one who came to ME in the barn…HE wanted to see ME! And why else, but to…to do all that stuff with me? To love me, to be with me?’

As much as she tried to convince herself that everything was somehow ok between them, her conscience wouldn’t allow it. She knew that something had gone terribly wrong…and that it had been HER actions at the center of it all. But Emma couldn’t, for the life of her, think of what she could’ve done differently. Daniel’s cries of “No! No!” were filed away somewhere in her brain, but somewhere currently inaccessible.

It was the end of the week now, and once again, the day had passed slowly, torturously by. She was again sitting pensively by the side of the pond, hoping that Daniel would come out of the house to see her. Her huge fingers tried to play with her dress, but they couldn’t twirl the loose fabric like they used to a few days before. Her mother’s gift had definitely broken her out of the melancholic, anti-social shell that had been slowly hardening around her, but even still, as Emma thought back to that encounter, just seeing her mother there next to her did little to help Emma’s sense of spatial dissonance. Her mom was like…a little elf, or something…a miniature little person-shaped…thing…that talked like her mom, if she bent down low enough to hear it.

‘Shut up…that was MOM,’ Emma told herself savagely. ‘Quit thinking crazy shit…it was HER.’

But if she was being honest with herself, she really had begun to have no idea. She had loved the dress so much because, unlike everything else in this world, it actually seemed to be made for HER.

Before Emma knew it, the sun had dipped below the horizon. She realized that all of that musing and thinking had tired her out, but more than anything else, she felt tired of waiting for Daniel. With the sadness and irritation enveloping her, she lifted herself up and strode back to the barn slowly, getting there in about five or six strides. The nightly bags of food were sitting there, waiting for her. She felt like choking up for a second as she thought of her sweet little dad, lugging all that food up to the barn for her, but a drone suddenly flew too close to her face, and Emma swatted at it angrily like it was a fly.

“Fuck off!” she hissed, and she actually managed to hit it, sending it missiling down a foot-and-a-half into the earth, about 40 feet away from where she was standing. She ate her dinner in silence, mindlessly dropping the bags of food into her mouth, chewing each once, and swallowing it all down.

She crawled into the barn, curled up in the hay, and tried to go to sleep. But she wasn’t able to. Daniel kept popping up again and again in her mind. His little face…smiling up at her. She longed to hold him in her hand, and squeeze his little body tenderly as she massaged him with the tip of her finger. All week, she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on him this intimately, for fear of upsetting herself, but now, her impatience, and her horniness, were becoming overpowering, and she gave herself fully to her lascivious thoughts.

‘Oh god…’ she thought to herself, getting turned-on, ‘Just think…just think what I could do to him now! Haha, I bet I could make him cum just by blowing on him, without even touching him! And I bet, when I squeeze his cute little body gently in my big, warm hand, it’ll just…just squeeeeeeeze the cum right out of him! Haha, like, he’ll just go *pop*, and that’ll be it, haha! He won’t be able to resist me…mmmmmm, I wonder how many times I could make him pop before he passed out again? Haha, awwwww, before his sweet little head bowed forward into my breast? Heheh, I am totally too much for him!’

Entertaining these thoughts, Emma started rubbing her clit, trying to reach orgasm. But something kept holding her back. Daniel wasn’t there. Why wasn’t he there!? That was the real burning question in her mind.

Suddenly, without thinking any more about it, Emma quietly, deftly, pivoted her body and poked her head out of the barn. The farmhouse was entirely dark…that is, except for one room at the far end of the house…Daniel’s bedroom.

‘Hmmmm,’ thought Emma, getting excited. ‘I’ve waited long enough…but no more. It’s time to pay my little man a visit.’

 

Chapter End Notes:

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