Emma was vaguely aware that she probably looked like a silly child, kicking her legs back and forth in midair as she sat on the giant red armchair, a huge grin splashed out across her face. She could feel the little upturned faces of the doctors looking at her, and it was incredible how different she felt about their attention now, compared to just five minutes before. Earlier, the knowledge that she was being observed and examined by all these medical people had been terribly distressing, and when mixed with the straps binding her down, and that awful pink gas they had pumped into the room, the whole situation had been downright grotesque.
But everything was different now — she and her doctors had come to an understanding. And on top of that, so much had already changed. She could see all of the doctors now, and it only took looking down on them to be reminded how small ordinary people were compared to her. It was impossible for her to be frightened of them now. But the warm sunlight that was bathing the huge room in golden light was gently soaking into Emma’s skin, and brightening everything around her. She had forgotten how much she loved the sun, and how good it felt to soak it up. In the past weeks, she had mainly been confining herself to the barn, as she grew increasingly isolated and depressed. But now, the sun was shining bright, and she could feel her body responding. The glad, golden rays seemed to symbolize everything that was happening. She was free…free to walk around, to laugh and smile and jump around in her new “home.” The reality that she was not, in fact “free,” was filed away, deep in her mind. Emma knew that it didn’t do to dwell on such things, and besides, where else would she be accommodated like this!?
She hopped down off the red armchair, and the crowd of scientists abruptly broke off, scattering in different directions as they reacted instinctively to the 27’3 giantess suddenly getting a little too close to them for comfort. Only Dr. Clinebell seemed unfazed, and he laughed heartily towards the others:
“Heheh, she’s big, isn’t she? Just a little bit intimidating? Hahaha, don’t mind them Emma…they’ve all still gotta get used to you, but don’t take it personally, it’ll happen soon enough!”
But even as Dr. Clinebell spoke up to her through his chuckling laughter, he could tell that Emma wasn’t really listening to him. Far up above came the much deeper, more profound vibrations of her own laughter, which quickly drowned out any other sound other than the booming thuds of her bare feet against the hard smooth floor. She was off and running, and in her eagerness to explore the new room, her fuzzy white bathrobe actually came untied at her waist, exposing her nude torso to the open air. Her tremendous breasts bounced free, and Emma could feel the fresh morning air against the bare flesh of her toned stomach, her hips, and her pubic triangle as she bounded about the repurposed hanger. She didn’t care that her tits were out, or that the little people down below could see her vagina — she just didn’t care at all. She was far too busy enjoying the crazy novelty of all of this high-quality furniture that was quite obviously built for someone close to twice her size.
Emma skipped up to the colossus of a wooden table, complete with four huge wooden chairs. She paused, staring up at the huge wooden expanse as she reached her hand up to touch it, as if trying to make sure that it was actually real. The table was so tall that Emma could barely see over the edge.
“So this…uhhhh…this stuff is all for me?” she asked uncertainly, to nobody in particular. The group of scientists was cautiously following her around, with Dr. Clinebell in the lead.
“All for you, Emma!” Dr. Clinebell called up to her. It was truly astonishing and discombobulating for the “normal-sized” scientists to look up at this 27’3 giantess who was in turn dwarfed by this massive table. They were all exchanging meaningful looks as they whispered amongst each other, but their gazes all inevitably returned to Emma, whenever she spoke or did anything.
“I…uhhh…wowww!” she laughed. She stood on her toes so she could get a good look at the rest of the table. “So, is this, like…this is because…I’m gonna keep growing, then?”
“Well Emma,” called up Dr. Clinebell, “We don’t really know yet.”
“What’s that?” asked Emma, turning around and squinting down at him. “What did you say?”
“I said,” Dr. Clinebell repeated, now speaking up to her through a megaphone, “That we’re not really sure, Emma. But you’re still growing at a steady pace, so we figured that we ought to prepare for…uh, for…”
He dropped the megaphone from his mouth; Emma had apparently stopped listening and caromed around to the far end of the table, hopping up on one of the sturdy wooden chairs. Once again, she was swinging her feet in the air, her hands flat on the chair on both sides of her body, as she leaned into her new pose. She just couldn’t get over how wonderful it felt to be around things that were way too big for her, rather than way too small.
“Heheh, she’s enjoying herself, isn’t she?” Dr. Clinebell chuckled to the other scientists. “Let’s all just hold back for a bit, why don’t we? Give her a little room…a little space to settle in.”
“Hey!” came Emma’s voice, thundering suddenly out into the air. All the scientists, including Dr. Clinebell, jumped a little at the sound. But Emma, being way on the other side of the table, didn’t notice.
“There are four chairs here!” she continued. “Is that because…there are more people like me!? More people as big as me!?” Her mind jumped back again to Igor, but she quickly brushed the memory aside. He couldn’t have grown anywhere close to that big — he was tiny…under 9 feet tall! And besides, his growth had slowed to a snail’s pace over the years from all the treatment he had received. Not like hers, she thought…which had accelerated in response to the treatment.
“Hahaha that’s…a good question, Emma!” laughed Dr. Clinebell, speaking again into the megaphone. “And the short answer is “no.” There’s no one else like you Emma. And, haha, trust me, we’d know if there was!”
“Then why are there four chairs?” Emma persisted, still kicking her feet in the air. She didn’t really care about the answer — she felt almost high off the fresh oddity of this new place, and she just felt like blurting out little questions for the hell of it. She felt like a young girl at the zoo, asking her parents what that animal was, and that animal, and that animal…
“Ehaha, wellll…” laughed Dr. Clinebell, glancing sideways at the other scientists, “We just wanted the place to feel normal, you know? Homey.”
The doctor’s answer sank into Emma’s mind, even though she barely was listening. A part of her had been hoping, in some strange kind of way, that these government people were keeping several giant people under wraps at this facility. She wouldn’t be alone…she wouldn’t be the only one…
But pretty quickly, this fleeting thought evaporated away. She enjoyed being the only one…the only person who had grown so tall, so big and strong and powerful. And yet she couldn’t help but laugh. This place made her feel minuscule! It was like she was a little person trapped in some kind of phantasmagoric terrarium. She jumped off the chair, giggling, and ducked down, running underneath the table. It was incredible — she hardly even had to bend her head down! She popped out the other side and took off running toward the huge, open expanse at the far end of the room. And when Emma broke into a run, it was impossible for the scientists to keep up with her — her strides quickly reached 20 feet, and then a second or two later had reached 25 feet. Ironically, she hadn’t felt this free since…well, since way back before she could remember. She didn’t really bother to think why, since she was so enjoying herself, but the truth was that she could only truly relax, stretch out her limbs, and be herself, once she had privately admitted that there was nowhere else she could go. The government had planned the whole thing out beautifully, so that even though they were technically imprisoning her, she felt more welcome and at home than she had felt ever since her ordeal began.
“Goodness! Look at her go!” murmured Dr. Bolton, the female scientist with the short black hair.
“Heheh, yeah…she’s magnificent, isn’t she?” nodded Dr. Clinebell, watching her run. “She’s like one of those…oh whaddya call em’? Those race dogs…ummm…greyhounds! Yeah, greyhounds! You know, that are kept all cooped up in stalls for years on end, and then they get rescued and set loose in a field and they just run and run?”
“Clinebell, you’re a screwball,” muttered Dr. Ossofrd, a handsome, sandy-haired older man, as he shook his head. “How does your mind jump to “greyhound” when you look at her!? She looks more like an elegant mare! God, that bone structure! Can you imagine what her DEXA’s gonna read?”
“What a surprise,” remarked Dr. Farley (a younger man) dryly, “The orthopedist likes her bones.”
“Well what do you expect?” retorted Dr. Ossford, straightening up challengingly toward his younger colleague. “Everyone to his profession. I mean, I bet you’re wondering how many…uhhhh, grams of protein she has to eat every day to look like that.”
“I am, actually,” laughed Dr. Farley, staring across the room at Emma with evident awe. “I’m guessing well over 5 kilograms, but that’ll have to wait for the tests. Jesus, Clinebell…you weren’t kidding — she’s incredible! Though I have to say, haha, I’m with Ossford here — she looks waaaay more like one of those wild horses you see on those nature shows…and that red hair! Wowwww!”
“She looks like a very tall, very big, very beautiful…woman,” declared Dr. Bolton emphatically. “Not a dog…not a horse…who both have four legs…geez, are you guys being serious right now? Or can you not wrap your minds around the fact that that’s a human girl over there?”
“Well…I mean, let’s not speak too soon,” joked Dr. Farley, chuckling. “You know, before we do all our tests…”
Dr. Ossford and a few of the other male doctors muttered their recognition of the joke in muted laughter. Dr. Bolton was smirking now.
“You know what I think?” she said slyly, “I think you guys are all intimidated by her, because she makes you feel tiny and insecure in your masculinity, and so you cope with it by imagining her as some kind of animal, just so you don’t have to grapple with how inadequate you’d be to her.”
“Get a load of Bolton,” teased Dr. Farley, elbowing his closest colleagues before turning back to her. “As a psychiatrist, maybe you shouldn’t be in the habit of offering your services for free.”
“Just as a public service over profit,” grinned Dr. Bolton. It was clear they were all in the habit of jabbing each other. “But really, Farley, don’t let her hear you talk like that. It might make her feel weirder than she already does.”
“Oh relax, I’d never actually say that stuff around her,” Dr. Farley said casually. “And look at her — we’re the last thing on her mind right now.”
They all turned back around to look at Emma, who was indeed preoccupied at the far end of the hanger, a quarter mile away. In her enthusiastic sprint, she had streaked by a colossal open-air kitchen, with a stove and a sink that came all the way up to Emma’s chin, as well as a titanic sofa set, complete with a boulder of an ottoman. Emma had vaguely taken note of what she was passing, but she had just wanted to stretch her legs and really break into a full-on run for the first time in far too long. The huge, lengthy, spacious hanger made her body beg for this kind of release, and Emma was enjoying every second of it.
She finally came to a stop of her own volition, because she was out of breath. This fact alone impressed Emma — even though the room was huge, she had been expecting to feel a little confined at the end of her run, but it turned out that she actually had to slow down and stop with a good 200 feet to go before she reached the end of the open-air end of the building. Emma wanted to peer outside to get a better idea of where she actually was, but before that, something caught her eye in the corner: a gigantic bed, all neatly made-up and looking as plush and inviting as could be, sat in the far right corner of the room. Emma strolled up to it curiously, and once she had reached the foot of the bed, she put her hands out to feel the mattress. Her eyes opened in wonder as she saw her hands sink into the soft, sumptuous material. It was some kind of “memory foam,” but far softer, more luscious, and more silken than anything she had ever touched. In a moment she had taken a step back and vaulted herself onto the bed, which had come all the way up to her exposed breasts.
“Oh my god!” she whispered to herself, looking out across the huge, inviting expanse of the massive bed. “This is…this is just…perfect!”
She laughed and crawled forward toward the head of the bed, and she flipped herself around, lying her head down on one of the car-sized pillows as she spread her entire body out like a starfish. Her hands and feet didn’t even come close to reaching the ends or sides of the bed. Emma laughed again, taking immense pleasure in this discovery, and she waved her arms and legs back and forth, back and forth, like she was making a snow-angel on the bed.
Emma lay there for several minutes, absorbing the thrill of actually being able to move around in a space that wasn’t confining. She hadn’t realized before the exhausting mental toll it had been taking on her, being cooped up in houses and barns and little spaces where she couldn’t really move. The farm had been an open space, but Emma had been so depressed there that she had spent most of her time curled up in the barn, in the fetal position, especially after…after…
But it was easier than ever not to think about…about him now…about that past life. There wasn’t any question that this is where she belonged now. All the time and effort they had spent preparing this space for her! And all the experts who were going to be attending to her! Before, such a notion would have been intolerable, and would have given her bad flashbacks to the Institute. But this place, and these doctors, all felt so very different. Everything was far more sleek and professional — the doctors seemed way more relaxed and…well, normal, just the way that they had been smiling up at her, welcoming her. And there were so many of them! And all of them were there for her, unlike at the Institute, where she had just felt like another patient, like another unlucky soul who had been sucked into the lurid, labyrinthine medical system. This place felt warm and comforting. Finally she was going to get the care she and accommodation needed.
Emma wasn’t even thinking about the prospects for her “treatment.” She had long since come to terms with her size. That moment when she had been standing naked in the field, when she had felt the fierce heat of the sun against her face…that had been the moment of the change-over, when something had clicked in her brain, when she had stopped wishing that her mysterious growth wasn’t happening. In the back of her mind now, she knew that all those doctors would probably be trying to find out what was causing her growth, but somehow, Emma felt that if they ever did find out, they would give her the choice to revert back to her “old” self or remain as she was. There wasn’t any question in her mind: she would stay big. It was who she was now: a towering, strong, powerful giantess, who had the most thoughtful team of little people looking after her.
“Well Emma?” came the sound of Dr. Clinebell’s amplified voice from far down below. “What do you think?” It had taken the doctors a while to catch up with her, and in any case, they had been leisurely strolling as they bantered excitedly amongst themselves. Emma had been staring up at the ceiling, and she had just noticed, far, far up in the ceiling, way out of her reach, a series of long pipes. But Dr. Clinebell’s voice distracted her, and she suddenly sat up cross-legged in the bed…her bed…feeling emotional and overwhelmed. The group of tiny white coats swam down below in her vision, and Emma realized that she was tearing up.
“It’s…perfect,” she sniffed. “I d-….I don’t know what to…what to say.”
“Well you don’t have to say anything,” chuckled Dr. Clinebell. “We all want you to be comfortable here, so, of course, it goes without saying that if you ever find that you need anything more, just please…let us know.”
Emma nodded silently and wiped her eyes. Yes, this all definitely felt different. All those little doctors, staring up at her…that would have surely set her off before, but she just didn’t really mind it now. She also didn’t even notice, or care, that her tits were completely out. Already the space was beginning to feel like hers.
After another few moments of re-collecting herself, Emma hopped down off the bed, marveling at how the floor didn’t really even seem to shake with her weight. She was too big to feel it, but the doctors close by absolutely felt the vibrations, to the point where Dr. Bolton even had to steady herself a little on her heels.
“So…” Emma said, walking towards the open-air end of the hanger. “This is…uhm…where the building ends, huh?”
“Yes ma’m!” answered Dr. Clinebell through his megaphone. “What a view, huh?”
It certainly was. Emma found herself looking off into a range of bare, towering mountains, which stretched out before her as far as she could see. There were no other buildings that she could see, no other sign of human society…no radio towers, no airplanes, no flashing lights, no nothing. It was a desolate landscape, majestic in its epic scope, and also mysterious and hushed in its own right. The morning sun reflected warmly off the bare peaks, painting them with shades of yellow, red, and deep violet. Emma caught a whiff of the clear, pristine mountain air, and she breathed it in deeply through her nostrils, inhaling the stark, hardy scent of the metamorphic rock.
“Yeah,” Emma nodded. “It’s…beautiful. What mountains are those?”
There was no answer from Dr. Clinebell, and after a few seconds Emma turned around to him expectantly. But even as she turned, a smirk came to her face.
“Haha, I know, I know,” she giggled. “You can’t tell me.”
“Heheh, yeah…” Dr. Clinebell chuckled. “You know, the whole “undisclosed location” thing and all…”
“Oh I get it…haha…uh, no problem,” Emma said genially. Of course, she would have been curious to know where in the world they were, but she had asked the question without thinking, and not out of a burning desire to know. She turned back to the mountains. They looked so alien, so unlike anything she had ever seen, either in person or in pictures. A sudden thought popped into her mind — that they were on Mars — but she laughed this ridiculous idea off. She was breathing in air! And anyway, they had been flying her in a helicopter! Not a rocket! She chuckled to herself at her crazy ideas.
“Thinking about what it would be like to climb those mountains?” asked Dr. Clinebell presently. He had noticed her chuckling to herself, and had wanted to keep the conversation moving along. It was important that he allow her to relax into her space, yes, but it was also important that he reminded her, at this early stage, that she wasn’t alone here, and would never really be alone.
“I…heh, now I am,” Emma laughed, looking off into the tallest peaks in the distance. The mountains were jagged and pointed, making it quite clear where the summits were. Emma suddenly found herself wondering whether, if she was on top of the tallest mountain now, whether she could be seen from their vantage point here.
“Well, after a little while of living here,” said Dr. Clinebell, “If everything’s going smoothly, you know, without any hiccups, we’ll let you climb em’!”
“You mean…like a field trip!?” Emma exclaimed, turning back down to them.
“Hahaha, exactly, Emma, exactly,” laughed Dr. Clinebell. Emma turned back to stare out at the mountains once more. Those huge, distant, jagged peaks…so high that the snow covered tallest ones…the thought of climbing them was incredibly appealing. Emma wondered how big she would be when that would be allowed to happen. As she looked out at the barren mountain landscape, it didn’t even occur to her to try and jump out and escape. For one thing, Emma was sure that the “open-air” appearance was misleading. She didn’t have any doubt that if she had suddenly jumped out of the hanger, alarms would have gone off, and lasers would have paralyzed her, or a huge net would have sprang out and caught her, or, even worse, that horrible pink gas…she didn’t need to think much about it. The harrowing minutes of prophylactic torture she had endured while she had been strapped down had told her all she needed to know about the prospect of escape. And in any case, she didn’t want to escape anymore. She was happy here. And the view was beautiful, so beautiful…
As Emma continued to stare out and contemplate the mountains, Dr. Clinebell stepped back a little ways, wordlessly indicating that the other scientists do so as well. They all gathered around him as he spoke in a low voice.
“Ok so, we agreed that it was best for Dr. Bolton to see her first? Does that still sound ok?”
“Mmhm, I’m ready,” Dr. Bolton nodded.
“Not nervous?” chided Dr. Clinebell, winking at her.
“Fuck you, ass,” she chuckled, shaking her head at him.
“Haha, ok so…I think the rest of you can go back to the lab,” Dr. Clinebell said. “And we’ll gradually go one at a time. Psych first, just to relax her some more, and then orthopedist, nutritionist, and so on.”
Dr. Clinebell suddenly stopped. He had been going around the circle, listing off the various doctors, but he had come to the shy-looking blonde young man, about Emma’s age, who was the only one not wearing a white coat. Dr. Clinebell smiled warmly and put his hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“Wasn’t sure if she was gonna need you today,” Dr. Clinebell chuckled. “But just sit tight, ok, Aiden? She doesn’t seem too interested now, but she’ll want to play with you eventually.”
Aiden nodded wordlessly as he cast a nervous but awestruck glance over at Emma. He moved to join the exodus of the scientists, but hesitated a moment. Dr. Clinebell noticed, and raised an eyebrow up at him expectantly.
“You got a question for me, Aiden?” he asked, as he made an effort for his voice to appear warm and relaxed. “We’re not in a rush or anything, but I wanna go ahead and get this show on the road, if you know what I mean.”
“Y-yeah…yeah, I know,” Aiden nodded quickly, his face reddening slightly in embarrassment. “I just…I uh, I just had…one question.”
“Mhm,” smiled Dr. Clinebell, glancing down at his clipboard, “Well ask away, Aiden.”
“I w-was just…uhm…what do you…uhhh…” he stammered, obviously nervous about addressing Dr. Clinebell himself, to say nothing of actually being so close to Emma.
“Aiden,” said Dr. Clinebell with a firm smile, taking the young man by the shoulders, “Come on. Ask your question.” At 5’7, Aiden wasn’t too short, but as Dr. Clinebell was 6’4, he towered over the younger man. Of course, Emma hadn’t noticed any of these size discrepancies. To her they were all tiny.
“Do y-you think…” Aiden began, again throwing his glance to the side and up at Emma’s face as she stared out at the mountains. “Do you think she…uh…she likes me?”
“Oh…oh, Aiden,” chuckled Dr. Clinebell, shaking his head as he patted the young man on the back. “You’ve gotta keep in mind that she’s just been through a lot, you know, and that this has all been a lot to absorb, the new setting, all the new people, you know…plus the fact that she can barely see any of our faces, being up so high.”
Aiden blinked a little, not saying anything, as he tried to process the doctor’s words.
“So what I’m saying,” Dr. Clinebell continued, as he gently steered Aiden towards the far end of the huge room, “Is that, in all honesty, she probably hasn’t really even noticed you yet.”
“Hasn’t…noticed me!?” asked Aiden, going a little pinker in his cheeks.
“Come on, Aiden, look at her,” Dr. Clinebell laughed, pointing up to Emma as she continued staring out at the mountains, her huge, fuzzy robe hanging open, her huge, gorgeous breasts and toned abdomen bronzed by the morning sun. “No offense, but I think she’s got a little more on her mind right now…and, I mean…don’t forget that as far as she’s concerned, we’re both like a foot tall…or less. So, haha, yes Aiden, I think it’s safe to say that you’re not really on her radar yet.”
The young man was silent for a few moments, and then nodded, giving her one last wondering stare, which was mixed with something like longing.
“Haha, don’t worry!” Dr. Clinebell said heartily, slapping Aiden on the back as he led him away. “Your time will come…you just have to be patient, Aiden. In the meantime, go browse those forums of yours, hahaha…that’ll tide you over. But remember, not a word, yes?”
Aiden nodded vigorously. “Of course…top secret.”
“Mmmm, good,” said Dr. Clinebell. He turned towards Dr. Bolton, wordlessly indicating to Aiden that their conversation was over. The shy young man took one last long and languishing look at Emma before he turned and walked back towards one of the side entrances to the gigantic room, his shoulders slightly slumped.
A little while later, after being lost in thought as she looked out on the snow-capped peaks, Emma remembered that she actually wasn’t alone. She didn’t feel self-conscious or embarrassed by her slip into meditation; in truth, staring out at those mountain peaks had reminded her how huge the world really was, and how, despite her size, she was still dwarfed in the grand scheme of things. And so, just to amuse herself with the contrast that reminded her how big she was compared to ordinary humans, she turned around to look down at the gathered collection of scientists. Except, they were all gone…well, all except one. Peering down and squinting, Emma could make out a woman with short dark hair, who evidently had pulled a chair up, in which she was sitting cross-legged. As soon as Emma turned around and looked down on her, however, Dr. Bolton un-crossed her legs and leaned forward in her chair, clasping her hands together in between her legs.
“Where’d everyone go?” asked Emma bluntly. She stared off past Dr. Bolton down the expansive hanger but there was no one else to be seen.
“They all went back to the lab,” Dr. Bolton said pleasantly. “And probably to eat some lunch too.”
“Huh?” asked Emma. She could tell that the woman was speaking, but couldn’t quite hear her. She had already gotten used to Dr. Clinebell using the megaphone to speak with her, but as she peered down closer, she could see that Dr. Bolton was beckoning her down even more with her hand. Emma blinked slowly and obliged. She was curious about this new person. Already she felt like she had come to a point of understanding with Dr. Clinebell, and Emma was a little surprised that she actually felt a little deserted without him there. She even found herself marveling at how Dr. Clinebell was confident enough to leave this other doctor with her…alone. But Emma sucked some air in through her nose as she took a kind of sighing deep breath. She knew that she may as well interact pleasantly with everyone else. And this doctor was actually younger than her initial appearance looked from almost 28 feet above. As she lay down casually on her stomach (enjoying how the smooth floor felt pleasantly cool against the exposed flesh of her stomach and breasts) and kicked her feet in the air behind her, Emma estimated that this woman was probably in her mid-30’s. Her short black hair was cute.
“Haha, I just said that they all probably just went back for lunch,” Dr. Bolton repeated. “Sorry, I know I could’ve used the, um…the megaphone to talk to you but it just feels a little impersonal to me, you know?”
Emma blinked and nodded her head silently. Her head, propped up on her chin, came all the way up to Dr. Bolton’s chest, and if the doctor had been standing, she would have seen that Emma’s head was about half as tall as she was. Both of them didn’t speak for a few moments. They were taking each other in, silently trying to come to grips with the size disparity between them. For Emma, it felt strange to be interacting so closely with this tiny person who, at least indirectly, had some authority over her. It was quite clear that Dr. Clinebell was the main “authority figure” over Emma, but she hadn’t forgotten the first: she was not to hurt or threaten anyone who worked at this facility…and of course this included all of the doctors who would be working with her. A remote little blip in the back of Emma’s mind reared up and spoke to her:
‘The rule was don’t harm anyone…that’s it! You don’t have to play along with these little people…you don’t have to play their little game…you’re their prisoner, and they’ve just got you here so they can study you like a piece of meat.’
But even as this thought rose up through Emma’s mind, she consciously moved to counter it.
‘So what if they’ve got me here?’ she replied to herself. ‘So what? Look at all of this! It’s so much nicer here than it’d be anywhere else. And they all seem nice…’
And here, a sudden breakthrough thought caused her to outwardly smile.
‘Of course they had to protect themselves by drilling into me, and showing me all their scary technology and stuff! Look at how small they are — they weren’t going to bring me here and let me do whatever I wanted at first. They had to make sure I understood that even if this place is “home,” it still has rules. It’s like being back home again, but without all the weird awkwardness, all the worried looks, all the baggage, without all the…’
She thought back, and saw a snapshot of her parents and Daniel, huddled together, afraid, as she lay on her side in the giant net. A flash of anger flared up in Emma, but she exhaled through her nose, brushing it away. She hadn’t stopped smiling, and she felt wonderfully light. Things were different now. Even just the way this woman was looking at her…Emma had never before realized how much it meant to be able to look at someone without them staring at her in fear or awe. It had been months…and it felt like years. Even at the Institute, she had quickly grown into someone unmanageable. But Dr. Bolton looked back at her with calm confidence, and, most importantly, warmth.
“Heheh, what’re you smiling about, Emma?” chuckled Dr. Bolton.
“Oh just…um…aheh, nothing…” Emma replied. She could feel herself blushing, almost like a child. “So what kind of…uh…doctor are you?”
“Welll…I’m Dr. Bolton, for starters,” came the reply, and then the doctor did something that surprised Emma: she held out her hand. Emma stared at the outstretched hand for a moment, not quite knowing whether it was a joke or not, but then, with a bounce of her eyebrows, she held up her own hand carefully. Dr. Bolton smiled broadly as she grabbed onto Emma’s forefinger and “shook” it; Emma couldn’t help but smile too. Both of them broke out into chuckles.
“Pleased…to meet you,” giggled Emma. The feel of the little woman’s hand against her finger was so odd and strange, but Emma liked it. For once, she was being touched by someone who didn’t look like their eyes were about to pop out their head, and even though she could barely feel Dr. Bolton’s touch, it felt amazing.
“Haha, well it’s mutual, Emma,” returned Dr. Bolton. “Even though you’re so big, I figure why not normalize our interactions as much as possible, right? And since you asked, I’m a psychiatrist. Your psychiatrist, actually.”
“Oh!” Emma answered. “So, you’re gonna be…uhh, like…studying my brain or something?” She was surprised how little she cared about the expected implications of learning she had a psychiatrist now. Before, she would have felt hurt, or even angry — she would have assumed that she was being called “crazy,” or worse, that the authorities were going to try and mind-control her. But she wasn’t thinking any of this right now. She was merely curious.
“Well…heh, I mean, I suppose that’s one way of putting it,” chuckled Dr. Bolton. “The way I’d put it is that I’m here to help you make sense of everything that’s happened, since I’m sure it’s been a bit…well, discombobulating for you at times.”
Emma blinked and nodded. She certainly wasn’t going to argue with that. She already liked this woman. She seemed…cool. And calm and professional. But also, that warmth…it really appealed to Emma. It occurred to her that even though she didn’t want to do it now, she would probably want to talk to this woman about a lot of things that had happened during the past few months. Emma wasn’t ready for that yet, but already she could feel her mind loosening up and becoming more comfortable.
“And I’m a medical doctor,” continued Dr. Bolton genially, “So of course I can prescribe you anything if you really need it, but really the number one thing I’m here to do is be someone you can talk to about how you’re doing. Kind of like a therapist, I guess, or really just like —”
“Like a friend?” asked Emma. Her vocal cords had tightened up and she could feel her lower lip starting to tremble. Suddenly her vision had started swimming in front of her. For an instant she felt irritated at herself, that she had somehow allowed her emotions to well up again, but this time she was able to effortlessly brush her concerns away. What was she worried about!? This woman was going to be her friend…she was going to be a source of warmth and comfort…and Emma knew that she didn’t need to hold herself back. Big tears started streaming down her cheeks, puddling onto the floor under her chin.
“Aww, sweetie…yes, Emma…like a friend,” replied Dr. Bolton sympathetically.
“C-can I…can I…g-give you a little hug?” choked Emma, wiping her eyes with the backside of her hand as she snorted unceremoniously. “I…I promise I won’t h-hurt you or anything. I’ll do it…really gentle. I just wanna f-feel…I wanna feel…”
“Emma…of course,” Dr. Bolton replied. Fearlessly, she walked straight up to Emma’s head, with her arms spread, and Emma shuddered in emotional pleasure, closing her eyes, more tears flowing, as she felt Dr. Bolton hug the left side of her face. Very carefully, Emma brought her left hand behind Dr. Bolton’s body and gently, almost too cautiously, pulled her into the side of her face. Her hand completely covered the doctor’s back, and even though the base of her palm was at hip-level, her fingers curled up over Dr. Bolton’s shoulders, on either side of her neck.
For several seconds, neither of them moved. Emma was conscious of the hug not lasting too long, and after about five seconds, she slowly moved her hand away. But Dr. Bolton made sure to stay there for a few seconds longer, still hugging the side of her face. Emma was touched — she was being shown that her affection was not something that her caretakers begrudged her.
“Um…what’s…uh, your, first name?” asked Emma, a little shyly, still wiping her eyes, as Dr. Bolton finally stepped away from her gently.
“Alison!” Dr. Bolton answered, her face lighting up. “And I’m glad you asked Emma — I’m a doctor, yes, and I’m here to take care of you, yes…but I’d much rather this be a kind of first-name, friend kind of basis, you know? Rather than just a doctor-patient dynamic.”
“I…uhm…I feel the same way…Alison,” Emma smiled, feeling awkward even as she felt the euphoria of her emotional relief.
“Well good,” said Alison, nodding. “Well now that we’re all introduced I can hang around and we can talk a little, or if you’d rather just be alone that’s totally fine too. There’ll be plenty of time for us to talk later.”
“No, I…yeah, let’s keep hanging out,” said Emma quickly, sitting up all the way. Dr. Bolton reminded herself not to gawk at the fact that this young woman was literally almost 14 feet tall when sitting down.
“But…could I…uh, could we…eat lunch here?” asked Emma suddenly, realizing that she hadn’t eaten in…well, she had no idea how long. Had they fed her through tubes when she had been unconscious? What she did know was that she was famished right now.
“Haha, definitely,” chuckled Alison, pulling out her phone. “Let me just ring up the kitchen real quick. You like…Mexican food, right?”
The next few days passed by in a kind of rapid-fire whirlwind for Emma — she didn’t have anything to compare it to except when she had been in summer camp as a girl…those first thrilling few days when she met all of her camp counselors, went through the exciting litany of new activities, and made new friends. This was all quite different from that, of course, but the social high that she was experiencing reminded her of that childhood memory.
After a few days she had already conversed extensively with Alison Bolton, who was definitely her favorite doctor to talk to. It wasn’t like Emma disliked the other doctors, but the gentle, collected way that Alison talked to her, and her eager willingness to just sit there and listen to what Emma had to say, made it so that their interactions didn’t seem like they were clinical in any way. Emma was simply being allowed to tell the story of the past few months of her life, uninhibited.
Or at least, uninhibited by any outside influences. After even the first few minutes of conversation, it had become clear that Emma had no desire to talk about Daniel, or even to mention his name. This presented certain clear difficulties, since it was hard to talk about what had happened without including him. Alison had gently pointed this out on the third day of talking, earning a rare curt answer from Emma, who had otherwise been over the moon about her budding new friendship with this woman.
“I don’t talk about him because I don’t wanna talk about him,” Emma had responded bluntly, then recovering a moment later. “I’m sorry Alison, I don’t mean to be a…a bitch to you or anything, but —”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Alison had replied breezily, waving her hand. “I could tell that your anger wasn’t directed at me there. It’s just…well…of course we can talk about him whenever you feel like it…if you ever do.”
“Not likely,” muttered Emma shortly. There was a bit of a pause, and Alison looked at her closely before finally moving on past, changing the subject:
“So tell me Emma…and haha, of course I’m asking all of this from a psychologist’s perspective…you know, I can’t pretend that I’m not intrigued by your answer, but I also just genuinely am curious, as your friend…”
“Mhm?” asked Emma expectantly. She was lying on her stomach, still dressed in her huge, oversized bathrobe, with her bare legs kicking out slowly behind. Her feet were over 7 feet high in the air. She loved Alison’s buildup to these kinds of questions — it made her feel excited to answer, but even more importantly, she appreciated the psychologist’s care in making sure she felt like a human being…like a friend, and not just like an interesting test subject or specimen.
The young doctor crossed her legs, grinning with barely-suppressed humor:
“How many watermelons can you fit in your mouth?”
A moment later, Alison found herself with her fingers in her ears, smiling painfully through the din of reverberating laughter that was clamoring across the surface of her skin. She thought she had thoroughly prepared for this herculean task of being Emma’s personal psychologist, but it was moments like these that reminded the doctor of the reality of what she was dealing with. She could almost taste the sound waves of Emma’s titanically girlish laughter.
None of the other scientists and researchers quite had Alison’s personal touch, but Emma didn’t really mind. All of them were nice enough, and in any case, she knew that she was being kept there to be studied. That strange and traumatic first day quickly vaporized into the air as the days passed by, to the point where Emma had an easy time remembering her first experiences in her new home as the sun-drenched panorama of the inviting and re-purposed hanger, rather than the sinister and terrifying image of that tiny room where she had been strapped down and tortured. But Dr. Clinebell’s methods had done their work, and Emma was quite happy not to even consider breaking either of the two rules.
In truth, for the first couple weeks, she was too busy to lie around getting bored. Dr. Clinebell had figured that too much “down time” for Emma wouldn’t bode well for her long-term, since she would be more likely to get bored and dissatisfied, and perhaps even mutinous, and so her days were full of various programs that were all designed to keep her engaged and entertained. Emma vaguely knew what was happening, and that all the structure around her must have had more ulterior motives than she realized, but she just didn’t care. She was having fun. She woke up at 7 o’clock sharp every morning, thanks to a vibrating mechanism in her bed that gently, soothingly shook her awake. Her bed was near the open-air hatch, which was always closed at 10 pm every night. After the first week, she had been allowed to press the button herself to open the huge hatch, which inevitably creaked back to reveal the stunning, majestic mountains, the early-morning sunrise glinting off their snow-capped heights, as the immaculately fresh mountain air whooshed in and blew back her hair and filled her lungs. Emma loved it — the air, the view, the stark scent of the rocks…they all made her feel wild and free.
‘This is exactly where I belong,’ she would say to herself, nodding at the mountains. ‘Right here…right here…’
Nearly every morning (with Sundays as her break day), she worked out with Dr. Mike Jeltzin, her personal trainer, who was a bald, hardy, muscly man in his mid-40’s who had previously been an Army captain. Three days a week he had her working out with weights, and then another two days he had her on the exercise bike, which was a scaled replica of a normal one, except it was almost 15 feet tall.
“Come on Emma, come on!” Dr. Jeltzin would say, clapping his hands loudly on his knees as he crouched forward, the veins bulging from his neck. “Push! Push! Only 20 miles to go! And the sprint is coming up! I wanna see you hit 50 miles an hour! C’mon you can do it! You can do it!!”
Emma enjoyed the way that Dr. Jeltzin pushed her, even though she privately felt like he was just a tad bit ridiculous, pretending like he trained people like this all the time. Still, though, his no-nonsense approach made her feel humorously affectionate toward him, to the point where, after a couple weeks, she was comfortable joking around with him.
“Aww come on Mike,” Emma panted one day, hopping off her bike as she used a towel the size of a comforter to wipe her face. “Can’t we go for a run in the mountains instead of on the bike one day?”
“All in time, Emma,” replied Dr. Jeltzin, in his slightly stilted way. “Gotta give it time.”
“So you’ll…be like, in a helicopter or something, when it does happen?” breathed Emma, plopping herself down against the wall, still breathing hard.
“I beg your pardon?” asked Dr. Jeltzin, confused, as he stood next to her sitting form, not even coming up to her breasts.
“You know when I’m…when I’m running in the mountains,” panted Emma, sucking down ten gallons of from her water bottle in a couple seconds. “You’ll be in a helicopter…with a megaphone or something…barking orders and telling me to go faster?”
“Oh…haha, uhm, yes Emma,” chuckled Dr. Jeltzin, understanding. “If you think that’ll help you.”
“It does help,” nodded Emma, as she stared past him towards the mountains. “It really does.”
Dr. Jeltzin was the first of many people Emma would see on a typical day. Dr. Farley, her nutritionist, would generally come in next, along with a gigantic, bus-sized cart loaded up with her breakfast. Emma thought Dr. Farley was a bit strange, since he always insisted on watching her eat, jotting down notes eagerly the whole time.
“Are you…getting off to this!?” she asked him casually one day, after a couple weeks had softened any initial tension between them.
“Getting…off?” he asked innocently. “I don’t know what you mean, Emma.”
“Haha, I don’t mean, like…sexually or anything,” laughed Emma, and then she paused for a moment. She had remembered that website that she used to frequent, all those months ago…what had it been called again? She had to think for a few seconds…Dr. Farley was jabbering on about something, but she wasn’t really listening. What had it been called…??
“Giantesscity!” she exclaimed suddenly.
“I’m…sorry?” Dr. Farley asked, quickly blushing a deep red. “What…what did you say?”
“Haha, oh…sorry,” laughed Emma, shaking her head. “Just a…just something I had forgotten about…heheh…I should mention that to Allison…totally forgot about that…anyway, sorry, what were you saying?”
“Just…a-a-ehem…” stammered Dr. Farley, adjusting his glasses. Just saying how yes, eheh, you’re right, I…I have to admit that watching you eat is…haha, well it’s not something I’ve quite gotten over yet.”
“That’s kinda weird, Dr. Farley,” giggled Emma, as she pinched a whole-boned ham in between her fingers and popped it into her mouth. “Kiiiinda weird…” Her tone was light and playful, but as she looked down at the little blushing man, she suddenly wondered if he actually was intimately familiar with what Giantesscity was. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him, chewing her ham as she reached for another one. Was he…into her that way? Obsessed with how big she was? A shot of panic went through her…were all these scientists here like that!? But she quickly brushed that concern away, dismissing it as totally irrational. Only Farley gave her those vibes. And anyway, it was no big deal. It was kind of sweet in a way. She smiled brightly at him as she tossed two more ham into her mouth, teasing him a little by making her eyebrows go up and down as she chewed and stared down at him challengingly.
After breakfast, Emma would generally either go back to lounge on her bed to surf the internet (on a specially-made smartphone that was too big for her, which she found hilarious…to her it was more like a tablet than anything), or go play in the corner on the trampoline they had built for her. Emma knew that, in a way, she was abandoning herself to a more childlike existence, but again, she just didn’t care. She loved the feeling of weightlessness when she bounced up; the first time on the trampoline, she had actually gotten emotional. She hadn’t realized how weighed-down she had been feeling after all these months of growing and getting bigger and heavier, and the sensation of lightness, however brief, was powerful and therapeutic. It was incredible — these government people seemed to have thought of everything!
There was a giant piano and guitar available to her as well, but Emma hadn’t yet taken to those. She had told herself that she would definitely enjoy learning how to play, but she hadn’t gotten to that point yet. Besides, both instruments were far too big for her. The piano was about 20 feet high — Emma would have had to kneel on the bench to even be able to play properly, and she didn’t feel like maintaining that position for too long. For the moment, she was perfectly happy bouncing on her trampoline and surfing the web on her phone. She wasn’t allowed access to social media, and she wasn’t allowed to make calls, but these rules didn’t bother Emma in the least. She wasn’t trying to get in touch with anyone.
Dr. Ossford, her orthopedist, came in a few times a week, always running tests. Emma liked him very much. Unlike Dr. Farley (who she still liked, but in a humorous, almost-dismissive way), Dr. Ossford was a bit older, and more relaxed and sure of himself. He was always cracking little jokes that made Emma laugh.
“Oooo, just cracked 29 feet today, Emma!” he exclaimed one day, after about a week of staying there.
“Already!?” she burst out.
“Mmhmm, and bone density’s 2.3 according to the Central DXA,” he continued, jotting down notes on his clipboard. He looked up after a few moments of Emma’s perplexed silence. “Put it to you this way — that means that you could be running 50 miles an hour and run into a tractor trailer and…” — he paused for a moment — “That tractor trailer would be the one looking a little worse for the wear.”
“Oh my god!” laughed Emma, shaking her finger at him (which at this point was over a foot long). “You just…you! Stop!”
“Hahah, I’m serious, Emma!” laughed Dr. Ossford. “Your bone density is…well, like the rest of you.”
“How’s that?” asked Emma, raising her eyebrows.
Dr. Ossford returned her knowing smile. “Off the charts.”
Over the next couple weeks, Emma continued to steadily grow. She hadn’t yet gone through another dramatic spurt like she had had before, but gradually, Emma began having a bit of an easier time navigating her furniture. She still had to accelerate to hop on up her bed, and on chairs as well, but it was getting a little easier. She noticed that Dr. Jeltzin was adding heavier weights to her workout bar in the morning. And whenever she was bouncing on her trampoline, she noticed how, bit by bit, every day, she bounced a little higher.
But even still, it remained clear that most of the furniture and accoutrements available to Emma were designed for someone much, much bigger than her. Even as she began to slowly grow into everything, her environment continued to have an “Alice in Wonderland” kind of feel to it. She still wasn’t able to see over the top of the giant “dining room” table without standing on her tiptoes. Dr. Jeltzin had already pushed her hard enough that she was able to do 4 pull-ups now, but to reach the pull-up bar, she needed to stand on a tall platform. Her feet continued to dangle high off the ground whenever she sat in the huge wooden chairs, or in the giant red armchair, which was Emma’s favorite — it felt like she was being swallowed every time she sat in it. While lying on her bed, she could easily spread her arms and legs out as far as they would go, and she still had at least a couple feet of extra mattress space on either side. Her pillows were less for her head, and more body-sized than anything else. The effect wasn’t quite as dramatic as it had been the first day, but everything in her environment (exempting the doctors, of course) still made Emma feel absolutely tiny…and she loved it.
After almost three weeks, Emma had surpassed 30 feet. She was 30’1, weighed just over 10 tons, and had never felt in better shape in her life. Allison had surprised her with a new wardrobe of clothes, complete with three pairs of jeans, t-shirts, and even a couple sun dresses that had been specially made for her. All of them were still a little too big for her, but Emma had still shed appreciative tears when Allison presented them to her.
“I…I d-don’t know what to say!” she cried thickly, carefully bending down to hug her friend (who, from her perspective, looked only about a foot tall).
“You’ve been…heheh, wearing those white robes long enough, huh?” chuckled Allison, feeling the gentle pressure of Emma’s careful hug. The psychologist parted from the hug soaked in Emma’s glad tears.
The following day, a Sunday, Emma was lounging around in her bed, surfing the web as usual. She was enjoying her lazy day when suddenly, she noticed a tiny movement out of the corner of her eye. She glanced up from her phone, a little curious. No one was scheduled to come see her until dinner, at least as far as she knew. Her eyes scanned the room, but she didn’t see anything, and turned back to her screen. A couple minutes later, she noticed the movement once more, and again looked up, now actually propping herself up into a sitting position on her bed. Her eyes scanned, and this time she saw him: a tiny man, standing about 30 yards away from her bed, timidly approaching. He wasn’t wearing a lab coat like everyone else. Emma pursed her lip, staring at the man for a few moments. He was young and shy-looking, and seemed to be extremely nervous.
‘Huh,’ she figured, ‘Must be someone’s son…accidentally wandered in here…whatever.’
She turned back to her screen, not thinking anything more of him. Back in the lab, though, a number of scientists were gathered around another screen, watching the action take place. Dr. Bolton was absent; she didn’t like spying on Emma without her knowing. But a lot of the other scientists were on the edge of their seats.
“She noticed him,” breathed Dr. Farley. “But then…”
“Now she’s ignoring him,” said Dr. Jeltzin.
“Maybe…this isn’t the day for it?” suggested Dr. Ossford.
“Gentlemen, please!” chuckled Dr. Clinebell, shaking his head. “Just let it all play out. Aiden’s perfect for the job…just you watch.”