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The Rampage

Written by julievelor :: [Friday, 04 March 2005 11:08] Last updated by :: [Wednesday, 10 April 2013 12:18]

The Rampage








Author's Note: This is an excerpt from an upcoming story. I couldn't resist finishing this scene for the Supergirls, Inc. Fiction Workshop 1.2. The young lady featured here is not the leading lady. You will see that she is not our conventional type of übergirl. However, I would not call her a "minor character," for reasons that will become apparent as you read this.



James Twining paused briefly to draw a breath, then opened the door, stepped through, and closed it behind him.


He was in the front room of one of the residential units within the SuperHeroes, Inc. building. This particular unit belonged to Elizabeth Bigelow, and she was waiting for him, standing in the door to her bedroom, wearing a blue dress he hadn't seen on her before.


Without a word, she turned and led the way into the bedroom. Greetings were not needed; they both knew why he had come here, the rendezvous prearranged. Crossing the room to stand by the bed, she turned around to face him. Then, using the ability that made her known to the world as Big Betsy, Elizabeth grew in size, the blue dress growing with her as whatever clothes she was wearing always did, until her head brushed the ceiling. Then, bending forward, she grew a little more.



Continuing to bend over, she brought her hands to her chest and cupped the biggest natural pair of breasts in the building, if not on the planet. "Are you man enough for me?" she teased.


They'd played this game often, and that was his cue. "You bet!" James answered. Using the ability that made him known to the world as Gemini, James split himself into two and started to walk toward her. As big as she was, all but filling the room, it wouldn't be a very long trip.


He didn't get to complete it. Taking her hands from her breasts, she pushed him back. As big as she now was, she had no trouble pushing back both of him.


This wasn't in the script. What was she doing?


"Not yet, little men," she said. Then she grew even larger, until she was forced to bend over double just to keep her head from going through the ceiling.



With her bent over like this, he was getting a good look down her cleavage. A very good look down the world's deepest cleavage.


Then her arms flashed out, catching both of him. At this size, she had no trouble wrapping a hand around each waist and lifting him off the floor. Then she made a quick turn and laid him down upon the bed side by side.


Continuing to lean over him, she knelt beside the bed and grew even larger. Then, after giving her chest a quick shake, she slid the straps over her shoulders, baring her breasts and letting them dangle toward him.


His four hands reached up for her two mountains. They were bigger than he'd ever felt before. So big that it took real effort to get his mouths clamped over her nipples.


As he suckled, he felt the pressure increasing as she gradually transferred her weight to his faces. Enough so that he felt momentary panic. If he had to go, being smothered under Big Betsy's mounds would not be a bad way, but he preferred not to go at all.


Fortunately, she seemed to be in complete control. The pressure eased, first on one face and then the other.


Then she began to rock gently from side to side, pressing down alternately on one face and then the other.


Not only was she bigger than she'd ever been with him, but she was much heavier. However, she was supporting enough of her weight on her arms so he felt no fear of being crushed under her mighty body. He quickly got into her rhythm, each body taking a hurried breath when her weight lifted off it.





Elizabeth Bigelow loved it this way. She'd long known that the bigger she grew, the sharper her senses grew as well. Right now she could feel every little thing James Twining was doing to her, and it was quickly driving her into a frenzy. But as good as the foreplay was, she knew it couldn't last.


When she was this size, she couldn't exactly have sex with a man. No man was that well endowed. She wouldn't have to shrink all the way down to her normal size, but she would have to shrink down nonetheless.


As much as she enjoyed being with James – both of him – there were times when she wished she could find a man with powers similar to hers. A man who could pleasure her while she was this big. Or bigger.




She'd tried an experiment a couple of years ago, just to see what it would be like. Hiking alone in the back country and finding a meadow in the back country, she took off her clothes, lay down, and grew to a hundred times her normal size. Nearly six hundred feet tall, her body stretched from one end of the grassy meadow to the other.


She had proceeded to pleasure herself, her fingers doing what no man could do to her at that size. She couldn't hold herself at this immense this size for very long, but she had managed to hold it long enough. Long enough indeed. The orgasms had been glorious, the best she'd ever had, coming almost continuously for nearly half an hour.


Her bucking body had completely torn up the meadow. Several acres of forest had been leveled as she rolled over. And, as she'd learned later, seismographs across the state had registered the tremors as her huge body had bucked again and again as the orgasms rolled through her.


Sighing softly, she brought her mind back to the present. She continued rocking from side to side, always being careful not to put too much of her weight on either face, as Gemini continued to suckle at her breasts, his hands continuing to caress and fondle her.


Lifting her torso off Gemini, she quickly removed her dress while Gemini undressed himself. She then began to shrink. Once she had room to work with, she climbed up onto her oversized bed, straddling one of his bodies and picking up the other. As she shrank past the eight-foot mark, she lowered her hips and impaled herself on one of his erect cocks. She cradled the other body in her arms and let him resume his suckling.


She stopped shrinking at about the seven-foot mark. James's impressive endowment didn't fill her fully, but it was certainly adequate. Her legs began a slow rhythmic pumping.


With Gemini's two bodies working in unison, it wasn't long before she reached her first climax. Not one as good as the one in the meadow, but it was certainly a start. Lifting herself off him, she laid the other one down on the bed and mounted him, picking up the first one and cradling him to her bosom.


The second climax was better, sating her – for the time being. Separating Gemini, she lay down on her back, all three of them panting for breath.


Eventually Gemini recovered enough for another round. In unison, his two selves rolled toward her, each taking one of her breasts. Under the twin assault, Big Betsy grew again, back up to the eight-foot mark.


One body climbed over a leg, positioning himself and then thrusting deep into her. Or at least as deep as he could given her current size. When that body had sated itself, it rolled off and let the other one take have its turn.





The girl pulls her foot out of the pile of rubble that is all that remains of the hotel where she had spent the night. At least, she believes that is where she had spent the night. She has no memory of being there. She does not remember waking up. She does not remember getting here. It is almost as if she has sprung up out of thin air.


Looking around, clad only in panties and bra, the gorgeous giantess sees a helicopter flying about half a mile away, circling slowly about her. Too far away for her to reach directly. But perhaps she doesn't have to. Stooping down, she picks up a car, a four-door sedan. It is a bit on the light side for what she has in mind, but it will have to do. Straightening back up, she winds up and throws.


The range is too great for accuracy, and the sedan is not a very aerodynamic projectile. Tumbling end over end, the car misses the helicopter by a good hundred feet. Continuing its flight, the car comes down nearly a mile beyond, a ball of fire and a column of smoke marking the abrupt end of its maiden – and probably only – flight.


The helicopter continues to circle, but it has received the message, backing away several hundred yards and climbing higher.


The curvaceous colossus thinks about trying again, but decides against it. From the looks of it, it appears to be an unarmed observation craft. Perhaps even a television chopper. If it is, she hopes they have a telephoto lens long enough to get a good view of her, because that is all she's going to give them.


She can feel the power that came with the size. At this size, she thinks, there is no force on Earth that could even hope to stop her.


Of course, that doesn't mean that there isn't anybody who is going to try. In fact, the first attempt comes quickly. So quickly, in fact, that she wonders whether they have been waiting for her. She stands and watches as a tank rounds a corner and rumbles up the street toward her. As she watches the approaching war machine, she sees flame erupt from the end of the long gun.



The lovely leviathan doesn't see the shell, only feels its passage as it misses its target, hitting a building behind her about five floors up. The explosion takes out nearly half the building, caving in the façade in a shower of concrete, steel, and glass. She turns her head in time to see the rubble fall.


"Is that the best you can do?" she taunts, turning back to the tank, taking a couple of little steps forward, and spreading her arms wide as if to make herself into a bigger target.


Her steps take her nearly half a block closer to the tank, which has continued to rumble forward after firing its first shot. It is a tactical mistake on the part of the commander, as his main weapon now can't elevate high enough to draw a bead on the beautiful behemoth's body. He reverses and starts to back away from the oncoming girl.


A truck pulls up alongside the retreating tank and starts disgorging soldiers.


"Oh, good," the curvaceous colossus calls down. "You brought some friends." Stopping her advance, she puts her hands on her knees and bends forward slightly, letting her massive breasts hang down. "So, who wants to play first?"


The tank belches out another round. But he's still too close to get adequate elevation on the weapon. The shell streaks between her spread legs and continues down the street from which she'd emerged.


Ducking her head to look between her legs, she sees the shell strike a building nearly two blocks away, going through two walls before exploding, blowing out in another shower of concrete and glass and steel.


She starts to straighten up. "You've got to do better than ---"


She hadn't seen the second tank. Unlike the first one, this one has stopped far enough away to get sufficient elevation for the main weapon. Streaking just under her pendant breasts, it strikes her stomach and explodes against her washboard abs in a shower of shrapnel.


The explosion isn't powerful enough to drive the shrapnel through her skin. At her current size, possibly nothing less than a tactical nuke could injure her. And as this is the only nation in which nuclear weapons have been used in anger, they are banned within its borders. The chemical explosion doesn't even cause her any serious discomfort. If anything, it just causes a warm tingling sensation to spread along the front of her body.



The gorgeous giantess straightens up fully, again spreading her arms wide. "Is that the best you can do?" she taunts again. Spotting the second tank, she takes a step toward it.


A single soldier opens fire with a rifle. After the cannon shells, she barely feels the impact of the tiny slug against the bare skin of her shin.


But it is as if that first shot is a signal. Other soldiers open up with their rifles, sending a hail of tiny slugs up at her nearly naked body.


The beautiful behemoth has just laughed off a direct hit from a tank cannon. It's not as if mere rifles are going to stop her. Making no effort to avoid the fire, she takes another step forward. And another.


The first tank maneuvers frantically, crushing a couple of cars abandoned by the side of the road as it finds itself in the ludicrous predicament of trying to avoid being stepped on by a nearly naked girl.


It does succeed in avoiding getting stepped on. But that doesn't mean it is safe, as the curvaceous colossus swings a leg in a wide sweeping kick, catching the side of the moving vehicle with her instep.


The sixty-ton metal war machine may as well have been an air-filled soccer ball. Her kick lifts it off the ground, flipping it over a couple of times before it crashes, upside down, into the base of a building at the side of the street. And beyond, well into the interior. A good chunk of the building collapses, burying the tank – and its crew – in a mountain of rubble.


Still from a safe – for the moment, at least – distance, the second tank fires again just as her foot strikes the first tank. Her body is off center with the kick, and the shell cleaves the air where her body should have been and then strikes a building on the other side of the intersection. The shower of rubble buries a couple of soldiers who are circling around with a rocket launcher.


Two other soldiers have gotten their launcher set up on the other side, and now fire their weapon. Riding its tail of flame and smoke, the rocket streaks across the intersection and strikes her upper thigh just as she's lowering her foot, exploding in another shower of shrapnel.


Even though she is slightly off balance from her kick, the explosion is not enough to force her over. Putting her foot down, the lovely leviathan merely brings a hand to her thigh and brushes off what little shrapnel adhering to her skin and then looks around for the source.


The backblast of the launch clearly marks the origin of the rocket. One prodigious step takes her halfway across the intersection toward it. The beautiful behemoth lifts her foot for the second step.


While her foot is raised, another rocket crew stationed on the other side of the intersection fires their weapon. The weapon strikes her in the back. The explosion adds a little bit of impetus to her already huge stride, causing her foot to come down about ten or twelve feet further forward than she'd intended. An abandoned car disappears under her huge foot, flattened by her immense weight, glass shattering and metal rending. There is a whoosh of gasoline, and the car bursts into flames. To her, the sensation is somewhat similar to stepping on a well-manicured lawn.


As harmless as the rocket explosion had been, the gorgeous giantess is still slightly off balance. Her right arm flashes out in an instinctive attempt to maintain her balance, reaching for the nearest support. Her hand strikes the building façade, the heel on the seventh floor, the fingers shattering two windows on the eighth.


The building meets the earthquake codes of this tectonically active nation. It cannot withstand the press of the girl's hand any more than the flimsy paper doors still used inside many residences could withstand an ordinary person falling against it.


Because of the prominent backblast, rocket crews are trained to vacate their firing position as soon as they've fired their weapon, and this crew is no different. However, they can only move so fast through a deserted building, and they have made the mistake of climbing up to the third floor, the better to get off a good shot at their towering target. They are still on the second floor when the floor shakes under them. Rubble from the floors above them collapse on top of them, and then the floor under their feet gives way.


The entire building has not collapsed. Enough of it is still intact to allow her to regain her balance. But now more of it now collapses as the curvaceous colossus pushes off against it. Another car disappears under her foot as she turns around.


The tank fires another round, but her turn has thrown off the aim. The shell misses her by a good ten or twelve feet, and explodes against the crumbling wall behind her, adding only slightly to the earlier damage. Disregarding the rocket crew that has hit her in the back, the curvaceous colossus starts toward the tank.


The tank commander has seen the fate of the first tank, and wishes to avoid meeting a similar end. The vehicle lurches into reverse, retreating down a side street.


A row of abandoned cars block the street. The armored vehicle plows into them, flattening them and pushing them aside almost as easily as the girl has brushed aside all obstacles in her way thus far. The tank's speed is reduced, but only a little.


Not that it matters. The beautiful behemoth doesn't have to run, not even jog; she can walk faster than the metal monster can flee in reverse. The cannon belches out another shell. Even with his platform in full motion, the gunner's aim is accurate. Not that it does any good. The shell explodes against her left leg just below the knee without so much as disrupting her stride.


She catches up before it has gone much more than a single block. The gun spits out a final defiant shot – grazing her right ankle without exploding – as the tank makes a final desperate swerve. It shoves aside another car but cannot avoid the giant foot descending upon it.


The tank is much sturdier than the cars she has already flattened with barely a notice. The radio aerials and the pintle-mounted machine gun are the first to go, crumpling under her foot like blades of grass. The thick armor of the hull and turret survive momentarily as the suspension system gives way. Treads break apart and bogie wheels fall off as the hull bottoms out against the pavement.


Still, no matter how sturdy it is, there is only so much pressure any man-made vehicle can withstand. And its designers have never anticipated this eventuality, that of a tank begins stepped upon by a nearly naked girl. The immense pressure forces the turret down into the hull. Then the thick armor buckles outward.


The frail flesh within doesn't stand a chance. The crew has no chance to escape. They barely have time to register what is happening to them before they are snuffed out.


Lifting her foot from the mass of mangled metal – and human remains, the gorgeous giantess looks around. Behind her is the intersection she'd just left. Smoke is rising into the air, whether from the damage she'd caused or from the rockets and cannon of the soldiers, she doesn't know and doesn't care.


In either case, there is little point in going back. There is little of interest for her back there. She decides to continue down the street.


Her decision throws off the soldiers' plans, whatever plans they might have thrown together in the face of this unexpected assault. Only a few rifle shots follow her, the tiny slugs not even tickling her bare back. Especially at this range; understandably none of the soldiers wants to get too close to their lovely but lethal target.


Elevated train tracks cross over the street several blocks ahead of her. The imposing obstacle does not deter the curvaceous colussus, however. Approaching, she knows she could easily step over it, but that is not her style. Raising her right leg, she brings her foot down in the middle of the bridge.


The metal structure is designed to support fully loaded trains. It is not designed to handle this. Steel girders buckle and snap like toothpicks, barely impeding her foot's progress back down to solid ground.


Her left foot crosses over the twisted ribbon of steel, lands on the other side, and the girl continues her stroll. On the other side of the tracks, the street opens into a major intersection.


The military has not been completely idle during her rampage. Having no concrete idea of her destination – something she herself doesn't know – they have started to set up strongpoints throughout the city. One of them is in this intersection, where major roads make movement of troops relatively easy.


They are not fully prepared – how could they ever be prepared for something like this? – but many of their weapons are in place. They have heard the distant sound of explosions. Some of them are convinced they have felt the ground shake under them, as in a minor earth tremor. And now, the observers can see their enemy approaching, her head showing above the tops of the buildings, no need for the helicopter still radioing her position. As she comes around the final bend into the intersection, the officer in command gives the order.


Five tanks open fire as one. Six anti-tank missiles streak out of their tubes within three seconds of each other. A dozen heavy machine guns spit out their streams of lead. Over a hundred rifles add their bullets to the fray.


Not all of that ordinance hit their mark, of course. Despite being presented with the biggest target they have ever aimed at, it is a moving target. And at her size, she can move rather fast when she wants to. Still, a good percentage of it does hit. Enough to make her stop.


The office building behind her explodes in a shower of concrete and glass as the ordinance that missed their target strikes it instead. Nearly every window in the other buildings fronting the intersection shatter from the force of the explosions. Several soldiers who have not taken proper cover are cut by the falling glass.


Yet all that firepower has stopped her approach only temporarily. She does not go down. The lovely leviathan doesn't even appear hurt as she stands there for a moment, her body wreathed in smoke as she surveys the might arrayed before her. Then, smiling despite the small-arms fire still pinging off her body, she takes a step forward, then another.



A second volley fires. Perhaps this one is more powerful than the first, or perhaps merely aimed better so that more of the ordinance strikes her. In either case, explosions rock her body and the curvaceous colossus staggers, throwing back her head and flinging her arms out in an attempt to maintain her balance.


For long moments the beautiful behemoth teeters on the brink of falling. More explosions wrack her body as the soldiers pour it on with everything they have, her feet destroying car after car as she staggers in an effort to maintain her balance.


But still the gorgeous giantess does not go down. Finally regaining her balance, she gives her head a couple of shakes as if to clear it. Reaching up with one hand, she brushes the hair back from her face and then places both hands on her hips. Looking down again upon the weapons arrayed before her, she smiles. Then she takes a step forward. And another.


That is enough.


It starts in the center as one man throws down his rifle and turns to run. And who can blame him? A man's courage can only take him so far. A man has to believe that his efforts are going to do some good. And it is obvious to him and many of his colleagues that their efforts are not doing anything. Rifles, machine guns, heavy tanks, anti-tank rockets, their weapons are having no effect – the lovely leviathan merely shrugs off the blows and continues her advance. Not even the spirit of the kamikaze can make him stand in the face of this onslaught.


The effect spreads outward, first as a ripple, then as a flood, as more men throw down their weapons and turn to flee.


The tanks hold the line a little longer. The armored cocoons give the men inside a false sense of security, and they have not witnessed the fate of their colleagues.


It does not matter, for they now have a front row seat. The curvaceous colossus strides closer and then one giant foot comes down on the front of the tank on one end of the line. The cannon barrel snaps like a dry twig. The rear of the heavy vehicle rises as the front is driven into the ground. Then, as she pushes her foot forward, the entire vehicle is flipped over, coming down on its top atop her foot.


The gorgeous giantess kicks it away as if it is nothing more than a soccer ball. The mangled hulk sails over one tank and crashes down on top of another. There is a fireball as the fuel ignites. Then more fireworks ensue as unused ammunition cooks off.


The surviving tanks immediately start to withdraw. But it is too late. The same foot that has just crushed one tank and flung it into another now swings out to the side in a wide sweeping arc.


The next tank in line, the one that has received a short reprieve when then the first tank flew over it, is now the first to meet her foot. It doesn't leave the ground – quite – but is instead pushed against the wreckage of the other two tanks. And beyond. A fourth tank is quickly engulfed in the burning wreckage.


The fifth tank has withdrawn far enough to escape immediate destruction. But that is not enough to ensure its safety. Two quick strides bring the beautiful behemoth to stand over the vehicle, but she does not bring her foot down on top of it. Instead one huge but well-turned ankle cuts off further retreat to the rear while her other foot traps it from the front, snapping off the cannon barrel on its way down. The engine roars, the treads clank. But it is useless, the vehicle cannot make any progress against either of her mighty legs.


With her attention focused on the ground, the curvaceous colossus has long since forgotten about the observation helicopter circling around. Nor has she noticed the second helicopter. A fully-armed attack helicopter, it now darts forward and launches its full load of rockets.


The rockets catch her by surprise, striking her broad back. And for the first time, the lovely leviathan is knocked off her feet, forced to drop to her knees. The unfortunate tank caught between her feet is crushed by her shins as she falls across it.


The gorgeous giantess is down on her knees, but uninjured. Giving her head a quick shake to clear it, she looks around. Scooping up a handful of debris, she flings it toward the helicopter. Again she misses. But this time some of the debris intersects the rotor arc. The rotor blades are damaged, not enough to bring the helicopter down but enough to force it to withdraw. It loses altitude, disappearing from her sight behind a row of buildings.


The observation helicopter also withdraws, afraid of meeting the same – or a worse – fate. Remaining on her knees, the curvaceous colossus surveys the ground around her.


All of the tanks have been destroyed. The men on foot have all fled or taken cover, except for the unfortunate few who have been caught in the helicopter's rocket barrage.


She sees movement out of the corner of her eye. About half a dozen soldiers crouch behind ground-level windows, eying her warily. They've already thrown away their weapons – not that they'd been of any use – and can now only hope that they're beneath the beautiful behemoth's notice, that she wouldn't consider them a threat.


The gorgeous giantess has noticed them, and she doesn't consider them a threat. But that does not mean she is going to leave them alone. Still on her knees, she turns her head toward them, and smiles.


Even after what the lovely leviathan has been through, her smile is dazzling. It completely draws the men's attention away from the rest of her. For it is not her face that poses the immediate danger to the men, despite teeth that could chop a man in half or a gullet that could swallow a man whole.


No, the immediate threat is her right hand, swinging wide on the end of crane-like arm to smash into the end of the row of windows. Some of the men fall back, others duck. But four of them are unlucky enough to be swept up by the huge hand as it sweeps across nearly the entire width of the building.


The beautiful behemoth pulls them out of the building. The four men struggle to escape, but there is no escape from her hand, each of her slender fingers longer than the height of a man and much stronger. A simple squeeze of her hand would be more than enough to crush the four bodies into jelly, snuffing the life out of them.


But, even though they and their comrades have just tried to kill her with their powerful weapons, the curvaceous colossus is not interested in killing them just yet. For now, just the knowledge that she could kill them with just her bare hand is enough. Closing her hand just enough to prevent the men from escaping, she pushes herself up with her other hand and rises to her feet.


For the men it is a dizzying ascent, like being on an express elevator. Or, perhaps more like being on a ride at an amusement park. Except, of course, that there is absolutely nothing amusing about their predicament. Realizing that an escape from her hand means certain death from a fall to the ground far below, they cling as tightly as they can to her fingers and to each other.


No, there is definitely nothing amusing about their predicament. Not even the sight of her huge breasts as she brings her hand toward her chest can make it so. Then they are there, and she opens her hand, wriggling her fingers to force them to let go.


It would have been easier to stay on a bucking bronco. The men are quickly shaken off her fingers to fall onto the broad curve of her left breast. Three of them manage to grab hold of her bra, the earlier bombardments having opened some holes in the garment and giving the men something to grab on to. The fourth man is not so fortunate, rolling and sliding toward the edge. As he goes over the side, he screams. The scream changes pitch when he bounces off her thigh just above the knee, then abruptly stops when he hits the ground about fifteen feet from her foot. None of his colleagues dare to look down, so busy are they trying to avoid the same fate.


Three out of four isn't too bad. Satisfied, the gorgeous giantess lowers her hands and places them on her hips as she looks in turn at each of the streets leading from the intersection. Still having no firm destination in mind, she picks one at random and starts walking.


It takes everything the men have just to stay on the beautiful behemoth's breast as she walks, each giant stride covering thirty or forty feet.


The curvaceous colossus looks down at her chest and smiles. Not that any of the men see the smile, the shining white teeth that could chop their soft bodies in half, the mouth that could swallow their puny bodies whole; their entire world has shrunk down to their handholds on a girl's bra, the sheer fabric having grown thicker than heavy-duty canvas.


Seeing them struggling to hold on, she puts a little more bounce into her gait as she picks up her pace. The men struggle even harder to maintain their precarious perch on the wildly moving platform, their bodies flying off with each stride only to crash back down again onto the slightly yielding surface.


The gorgeous giantess breaks into a trot, and it proves to be too much for one of the men. As his body is flung up, his hands lose their precarious purchase on his handholds. He is thrown up almost to the level of her shoulder. As he drops back down to her bouncing breast, his hands seek wildly for something to grab. Neither of the other men dares to loosen his own grip in order to reach for their comrade, so he is left on his own. One hand closes briefly on a tear in the fabric, but then his body strikes her huge mound and the impact makes him lose his hold and he is sent spinning off into space. As he falls toward the girl's hip, he makes one last effort to grab on to her panties, but he is falling too fast. He bounces off the curve of her hip, narrowly misses a treelike thigh as it strides forward, and continues to fall. Then he hits the pavement, and it is all over for him.


The lovely leviathan picks up her pace even more, breaking into a jog. One more man looses his grip. As he is flung off to the side, a mighty forearm swats him as if he is nothing more than a fly. He is already unconscious before he slams against the front of a building five floor above street level, ensuring that he will never regain consciousness.


The gorgeous giantess has not been totally oblivious to the men's fates. Knowing she has only one man left, she slows her pace down to an even walk and reaches her right hand up to her chest. Carefully putting her thumb and forefinger on either side of his body so as not to crush him, she easily pulls him loose from his perch. Her other hand pulls the top of her bra away from her skin. What to her is less than an inch is more than enough for her purpose, and she drops the man inside and lets the garment close, trapping him in place.


As he feels the bra shutting him in, he starts to struggle to get free. But then, as she resumes her jog, he realizes that where he is now, despite the wild bouncing of the smooth warm surface under him, he is at least safe from falling to a certain death far below. Still, he tries to clings as best he can.


Despite the bra closing him in, he still does not remain in one place. The wild vibrations caused by her jog causes him to shift around until he comes to rest atop a hard object. He can barely get his legs around it, but finally he has found a more secure perch. So he thinks.


Picking up her pace into a full run, the lovely leviathan smiles as she feels the man settle on her nipple.



Hair streaming behind her, the beautiful behemoth continues to run down the wide boulevard, unmindful of the cars abandoned by their panicked drivers. Some she kicks out of her way, others she crushes by stepping on them. She is feeling great, and why shouldn't she? None of their weapons have been able to hurt her, and she has destroyed a lot of them. What were ordinary passenger vehicles compared to that? And as for the soldiers themselves … well, the one trapped inside her bra is a good indicator of just how effective these puny men truly are.


Her long – very long – legs eat up the ground, covering an entire city block in just a few paces. There is nothing in the city that can stop her, as she has already proven. That doesn't mean they aren't going to try, however. Coming to another major intersection, she sees too late that an ambush had been set up for her. They are ready for her, and a bright flash of light announces the first of the anti-tank rockets launched at her even before she has fully entered the intersection. Before she can do anything more than stop to take in the situation, the man on her nipple momentarily forgotten, the rocket reaches her and strikes her in the stomach.


The shaped charge would have penetrated the thickest armor of just about any tank in the world. But at her current size, her washboard abs prove to be tougher than any tank armor ever made.


The smoke from the first explosion has yet to clear away when two more rockets strike almost simultaneously. These strike higher up her body, directly in the chest, the fireballs engulfing her entire upper torso in a wreath of flame and eliciting a gasp from the gorgeous giantess. The gasp is not one of pain, however. Rather, it is one of pleasure as the twin explosions caress her twin mounds and bathe her breasts with their warmth. She maintains her position, savoring the delightful feeling until it fades with the smoke.


These explosions do cause damage, however. As the smoke clears, the soldiers can see her still standing before them, but the towering titaness is now topless, the explosions having blown off what remained of her bra.


Of course, there is nothing left of the soldier she'd tucked inside that bra. But there is no point in mourning his demise; he had been one of the men who'd been trying to kill her, after all. And while at first she enjoyed having him inside her bra, that enjoyment turned out to be brief, as the continual pounding from her run quickly proved to be too much for him and he passed into unconsciousness within the first mile. Thus it is with no sense of regret that the beautiful behemoth passes a hand quickly across her chest, brushing off the last remaining shreds of her bra and the odd piece of shrapnel adhering to her skin. And the little bloody stain. Now, as she strides forward again, her huge unbound breasts jiggle and bounce with each step.


Under normal circumstances, the sight of a beautiful topless girl walking toward them might have amused the men. But this is hardly a normal circumstance, and the girl, beautiful or otherwise, has already proven herself to be lethal.


As she continues to stride toward them, one huge foot comes down on an abandoned car, and the fuel tank explodes in a fireball, the flames almost reaching up to her knees but having no more real effect on her than the earlier rockets, not even so much as causing her to glance down.



The men continue firing their weapons, and two more rockets come streaking up at the curvaceous colossus on their tails of flame and smoke.


The first rocket strikes her left thigh and explodes, doing nothing more than causing a brief tingle. The second rocket strikes lower, on the right knee, with more or less the same result.


Neither one causes her to so much as break stride. The lovely leviathan reaches the nearest rocket launcher, and it all but disappears under a gigantic foot. The crew barely has time to scramble clear before it is smashed into so much scrap, destroyed by nothing more than a girl's bare foot.


The curvaceous colossus continues her advance, and another rocket launcher is flattened. And as for the soldier who had sought to take cover underneath it …


One more long stride brings the beautiful behemoth across the intersection, toward the tanks lined up across the far side. They have been firing at her the whole time, the contributions of their long guns all but lost in the roar of the more powerful rockets.


Now, as the gorgeous giantess approaches them, they begin evasive maneuvers, the guns continuing to spit out defiance. The weapons may as well be simple noisemakers for all the effect they are having on her. Crushing one tank by stepping on it, she reaches out a hand for the roof of a building across the intersection.


Soldiers have been stationed in the building, as in all of the buildings around the intersection. Their rifles and heavy machine guns hardly matter compared with the tanks and the rockets. As her hand comes toward them, the soldiers instinctively back away from the windows, some of them dropping their weapons.


That doesn't save them, as a quick pull of her arm brings the entire structure down, sending the men tumbling down toward the street. Two more tanks are buried in the collapsing rubble.


The beautiful behemoth has done enough here. She has once again proven her superiority over the puny men, her ability to destroy them at will while their weapons have no effect on her. Stepping on another tank, she resumes her progress down the boulevard, ignoring the parting shots striking her back. Once clear of the intersection, she begins running again.


Long legs again eating up distance, the lovely leviathan soon leaves the heart of the city, heading into the suburbs.


Helicopters continue to follow her as she enters a residential area. They have no trouble tracking the beautiful behemoth, as the buildings she now runs through are lower, most of them not even reaching up to her waist.


Helicopters aren't the only things in the sky. A flight of four fighter-bombers curves in behind her and then breaks off. The flight leader peels off and streaks toward her from behind, descending until he is well below the level of her head.


Her eyes fixed straight ahead, the curvaceous colossus is unaware of his presence until he breaks into her field of vision from the right, low and almost close enough to touch. She veers to the right, crashing through a dozen houses, and picks up her pace.


The lovely leviathan can feel the heat of the jet's exhaust, but the warplane is too fast for even her long legs to catch. Giving up in disgust, she stops in the middle of a factory parking lot and looks around. She sees the helicopters that have been dogging her almost from the very start. Beyond them she sees the three fighter-bombers – no, four fighter-bombers, as their leader rejoins them. And further beyond, she sees the city skyline, obscured by the smoke rising from her earlier battles.


Seeing their target stop, the fighter-bombers separate into pairs and move in for the attack. Seeing them come toward her, the gorgeous giantess puts her hands on her hips and defiantly thrusts out her chest.


As he lines her up in his sights, the wingman realizes something. Even though he has known that the target is – unbelievable as it seems – a giant girl, until just now he has not known that she is topless. Now, as the curvaceous colossus stands still, her chest thrust out as if daring him to shoot, he finds himself unable to take his eyes off her beautiful breasts. He does not hear his flight leader's voice in his headset ordering him to pull up. He does not see the smile on her face.


Half a century earlier, during the waning days of the Pacific War, his countrymen flew their airplanes into enemy ships in a desperate attempt to stem the tide, to stop the overwhelming torrent of men and materiel the Americans were throwing at them, believing that giving their lives for the Emperor would ensure their ascendance to heaven. The wingman's motives are completely different, though even had the time he would have had difficulty expressing it. In fact, had he the time to think about it, he probably never would have done it. As it is, his final attack run lasts only seconds, the girl's incredible breasts completely filling his vision as he flies directly into them.


The fighter-bomber strikes the beautiful behemoth with enough force to make her take a step back and then explodes, engulfing her in a fireball. It is a more powerful explosion than anything she has encountered up until now, and it forces her back a couple of steps, her huge foot flattening a corner of the factory building. Flaming jet fuel spatters the front of her body and flows down her legs, igniting the vehicles abandoned in the lot. Unfired ordnance cooks off as the debris falls, spreading the fire. Within moments the entire factory is engulfed in flames, a column of thick black smoke rising into the sky. Unable to see their target in the smoke, the second pair of fighter-bombers break off their attack run, peeling off to either side of the column of smoke.


The one on the left passes a little too close to the swirling column of smoke. A huge arm swings out of the smoke, and fingertips brush against a wing. It is not a solid hit, but it is enough to send the jet tumbling out of control. The pilot struggles to regain control, but he does not have enough altitude. He crashes down about a thousand yards away in another fireball. Wooden houses go up in flames like kindling.


The curvaceous colossus emerges from the column of smoke. To her, it is no worse than emerging dripping wet from a shower. Just as in emerging from a shower, she is completely naked, the latest explosion and fire finally destroying her last remaining garment. But unlike emerging from a shower, she is not dripping water. As she turns and begins walking, high-octane jet fuel drips flaming from her body, igniting buildings and vegetation on the ground, leaving behind her a flaming trail, which quickly spreads. She breaks into a jog again, and the air rushing past her immense body helps dry her off.


The two remaining fighter-bombers circle around and come in on another attack run, this time staying well above their target. But now that target is in motion, and their guns and missiles score few hits. Not that the hits seem to have any effect on her; the misses cause far more damage on the ground. Realizing the futility of their efforts, they break off before exhausting their ordnance.


The helicopters continue to follow the lovely leviathan, dropping back to what the pilots hope is a safe distance.


Soon the curvaceous colossus is out of the city. Leaving the roads, she takes off cross-country, the water flooding the rice paddies doing no more than wetting the soles of her feet. Then the land begins to slope up and the paddies give way to forest.


The wooded hills do nothing in the way of giving her cover from the following helicopters. Nor do they do much in the way of impeding her progress. Cresting the first rise, she descends into a small valley. She doesn't even break stride crossing over the small stream at the bottom, and starts up the other side.





The young captain has received orders to deploy his infantry company on the high ground on the near side of the valley. In front of him a broad river snakes through the valley. Beyond that, the other side of the bank of the river rises well above his position. Small rice paddies fill what level ground there is on either side of the river. Two bridges cross the river, one for trains and the other for automobiles.


It is far from an ideal defensive position, and he knows it. Given his choice, he would rather deploy on the higher ground on the other side, despite then having the river at his back, cutting off possible retreat should the bridges go down. As it is, he has precious little depth between the river in front and the town behind.


Nor does he have enough time to dig in properly. He has to trust to his platoon leaders and their noncoms to position the men the best they can.


As bad as the position is, he might have felt confident holding the position against a conventional foe of comparable strength. But the approaching foe is far from conventional, and as for strength … the reports coming in on the radio are sketchy, but he has heard that as many as two jet fighter-bombers are down. And as for the ground units closer to the heart of the city … if they have had any success in stopping the foe, his unit wouldn't be needed here now.


Nothing in his training has prepared him for an assault by a single unarmed girl. He doesn't think there is a single armed force anywhere in the world who has a doctrine for such a situation.


His radio operator tells him she is coming directly for his position. Crouching behind his command vehicle, he reaches for his binoculars. Then she comes into sight, and the binoculars never make it up to his eyes. There is no need for them, his unaided eyes are enough. More than enough.


First the head comes into sight above the trees across the river. Framed by long, straight black hair, the face looks as if it should be on an American movie star. Except that the movie star would have to be bigger than King Kong. Bigger than Godzilla.


She continues coming closer, and more of her becomes visible as she ascends the far side of the ridge. First the shoulder, and then the chest … a bare chest, a very bare chest. The most impressive chest the captain has ever seen on a female, scale notwithstanding. He watches spellbound as she continues her approach, noting her washboard abs, and then … the lower part of her body, as bare as the upper. His men are just as spellbound, staring at the gorgeous giantess as she comes closer and closer to their position. Godzilla and King Kong never looked like this!


Now the lovely leviathan is over the top of the ridge and descending into the valley, her mighty body dwarfing the trees. Even when she reaches the rice paddies at the bottom, her head reaches nearly to the top of the ridge behind her.


Belatedly remembering his orders to prevent her from crossing the river, the captain gives the order to commence firing. Rifles and machine guns open up at extreme range, spraying the beautiful behemoth's bare body with lead. Mortar shells drop down into the paddies at her feet, ruining some farmer's crop and raising geysers of water that barely reach up to her knees.


The only effect the barrage has on her is to make her stop and look around to see where it is coming from. It doesn't take her long to spot the muzzle flashes. She turns and starts toward the heaviest concentration, a hint of a smile turning up the corners of her huge mouth.


The curvaceous colossus doesn't even slow down at the water's edge, but wades right in, ignoring the two bridges spanning the river, which the captain doubts will support her immense weight anyway. Within a couple of long strides, she is in up to her knees. Mortar shells follow her, raising bigger geysers in the deeper water. Even then, they barely reach up to her waist, doing nothing to obscure the upper half of her beautiful bare body.


Some of the mortar shells do strike the target, landing on her head and shoulders. Yet they seem to have no effect on the gorgeous giantess other than to ruffle her black mane slightly. By her response, the girl may as well be facing nothing more potent than a gentle breeze; her pace doesn't slacken as she acknowledges the hits by merely raising a hand to her head and brushing the hair back from her face.


Just how is he supposed to stop her from crossing the river, if his weapons can't do anything more than ruffle her hair?


The lovely leviathan is now at the middle of the river, and the water is not even up to her hips and the patch of black hair covering her sex. As the captain continues to stare in horrified fascination, he sees a mortar shell drop just in front of her face. There is a flash, and a small puff of smoke sprouts from her right breast.


The beautiful behemoth stops, and for a brief instant the captain wonders if she is hurt as the expression on her face changes and she starts to bring a hand up to her chest. But no, she is actually fondling herself and the expression on her face is a full smile, as if the direct hit on her breast has only served to turn her on.


Just what kind of girl is she, and just how is he supposed to stop her?


The captain snaps an order to his radio operator, and within seconds the three tanks supporting his company add their contributions to the barrage. Unlike mortars, their cannon are direct-fire weapons. Three armor-piercing shells strike the gorgeous giantess within a two-second span. He can see the hits – one on her face, the second on the back of the hand fondling her breast, and the third on her stomach.


The curvaceous colossus merely gives her head a little shake and, dropping her hands to her hips, looks around again, as if the armor-piercing shells were nothing more than mosquitoes buzzing around her. No, the captain realizes, for mosquitoes can at least bite and draw blood, and these shells haven't done that much.


There has not been enough time to prepare proper firing positions for the tanks, let alone to dig them in. Spotting one of them hull-down in a rice paddy, the lovely leviathan resumes her river crossing, changing course slightly to the left, she heads directly for the tank.


Mortar shells continue to drop around her, occasionally hitting her. The tanks fire again, and two of the armor-piercing shells hit, the third passing under a swinging arm as she continues to wade across the river.


A pair of fighter-bombers streak down the river valley, auto-cannon twinkling. As the beautiful behemoth stops to watch them coming toward her, the water around her boils as rockets explode. Then for a moment she nearly disappears from sight as the bombs hit, raising huge geysers.


Yet, when the jets streak past and the water subsides, the only things down are the two bridges, even though neither has taken a direct hit. The curvaceous colossus is still standing knee-deep in the water, drenched but otherwise seemingly no worse for wear. Water drips from her long tresses and streams down her magnificent body as she turns her head to watch the aircraft as they pull up and prepare to come around again.


The second pass is a virtual repeat of the first. That is to say, it has no more effect on the lovely leviathan other than to give her another thorough drenching. Then, their ordnance expended, the jets disappear into the sky. Again, water streams off her superb body. Water, but not a sign of blood.


With the aerial threat – if it could be called that – gone, the gorgeous giantess again resumes her wading. It only requires a few more strides of her immense legs before she is climbing up on the near bank. As she crosses the rice paddies, the men stationed there scatter to avoid being trampled by her huge feet.


Giving the foot soldiers the same attention a hiker pays the ants at his feet, the curvaceous colossus heads toward the tank. The tank commander, realizing that he must be her immediate objective, orders the tank into motion. Treads clanking, it backs out of the paddy onto the narrow levee. Firing another shell in defiance, it backs into the next paddy.


It does not make it across. Taking a gigantic stride, the lovely leviathan bends forward and reaches out for it. The tank tries to swerve out of her reach, but it cannot evade the girl's hands. The treads churn up the water, but the engine is not powerful enough to pull the vehicle out of her mighty hands.


Then the gorgeous giantess starts to straighten up, lifting the heavy war machine completely off the ground as if it is nothing more than a plastic toy. Lifting it up over her head, she turns and throws it overhand, back across the river.


Either she is not strong enough to throw it all the way across, or more likely, the captain suspects, that is not her intent. Splashing down in the middle of the river, the metal monster immediately sinks out of sight. The captain watches for a nearly a minute, but none of the crewmen surface.


The captain turns his eyes back to the curvaceous colossus just in time to see her brush off her hands and then put them on her hips, turning her head from side to side as she seeks out her next target.


When she reached the near bank, the mortar crews had stopped firing for fear of hitting their own men. But now that the men have scattered, they resume firing. However, it is a sporadic barrage now, the crews having seen not only the apparent uselessness of their efforts but also what the beautiful behemoth has just done to the tank. In fact, all along the line, men are beginning to pull back, their military discipline breaking down in the face of the girl's assault.


The captain knows he has been defeated. Defeated by one beautiful, naked girl. Without taking his eyes off her, he orders a withdrawal.


The order comes too late for some of his men. As the gorgeous giantess strides forward, a machine gun nest disappears under one foot, the gunner continuing to fire his futile defiance until the last possible moment.


The withdrawal quickly turns into a rout, most of the men fleeing in terror as the very ground trembles under the tread of her mighty feet.


A tank breaks from cover, continuing to fire as it heads for the dubious shelter of a copse of trees. It maybe a tactical error on his part. Had he remained still, she might not have spotted him. As it is, the motion immediately draws her attention and the lovely leviathan heads toward it, splashing through the paddies.


The tank wins the race, for all the good it does, reaching dry land and moving into the trees. The curvaceous colossus steps out of the paddy moments later and bends down. The tank fires one last defiant round. The shell hits her face at pointblank range, but she doesn't even flinch. Her hands quickly brush the trees aside as if she is merely dusting a piece of furniture. Once the trees are gone, she reaches down and picks up the tank, holding it in one hand this time as she starts to straighten up.


The captain's earlier suspicion is confirmed as an underhanded toss, not much more than a flick of her mighty wrist, sends the tank flying through the air to also splash down in the middle of the river and sink out of sight. Again, no bodies surface.





As soon as she has seen the splash made by the second tank she has thrown into the river, the beautiful behemoth finishes straightening up, brushes off her hands, and looks around again. She sees soldiers still running away from her, running as fast as their short legs can carry them. She does not care about those insignificant insects, they cannot harm her.


She does not even pause to wonder why they have tried to prevent her crossing this particular river when she has already crossed several others. Instead she continues her journey toward a destination even she does not know. Two strides take her to the wide highway paralleling the river. Her next stride comes down on the highway itself, her foot creating an immense depression in the pavement and sending cracks radiating outward as she plants herself.


Passing over the cracked pavement, her other foot hovers momentarily over the railroad tracks on the other side. Then sparks flash across her sole as she brings her foot down through the overhead power lines. They don't even tickle her. Then her foot is down on the tracks themselves, her broad sole more than spanning the parallel rails. Steel rails intended to hold trains buckle and snap as they are forced, broken and mangled, deep into the railbed.


The gorgeous giantess stands there for a moment, one foot on the highway and one on the railroad tracks, and looks around again. Soldiers are still fleeing, some on the highway or the railbed, others splashing through the flooded paddies. There are more of them to her right than to the left. Still with no firm destination in mind, she turns right, striding along the highway.


As the lovely leviathan approaches a stand of trees, a tank breaks from cover. Rumbling up onto the highway, it fires a shot from its main gun and then speeds away from her. The shot passes between her mighty legs and impacts nearly a mile behind her. Smiling to herself, the beautiful behemoth follows, slowing her pace to match that of the war machine.


The highway meets the one going over the downed bridge. The tank continues along the river, toward the town on the bank. The tank fires again – aiming lower this time. Dirt and concrete fountain up beside her right foot.


The curvaceous colossus picks up her pace, bringing herself closer to the tank. The tank swings off the highway, seeking shelter between a pair of two-story apartment buildings.


The lovely leviathan also leaves the highway. Circling around the nearer of the buildings, she comes up on the tank from behind before it can swing its turret around.


The tank scurries forward, like a mouse feeling a pouncing cat. As the beautiful behemoth follows, a mortar shell drops out of the sky, the gunner either not aware of the tank at her feet or else believing that his shell will not hurt the men inside the metal cocoon.


The mortar shell would not have hurt the gorgeous giantess even if it had hit her. But it hits one of the apartment buildings instead, blowing a hole in the roof and starting a small fire within.


Then the lovely leviathan is upon the tank, bending down to place her hands atop the hull on either side of the turret.


The driver gives his machine gas in an attempt to get out from under the curvaceous colossus. The tank goes nowhere. The engine roars and treads clank, but it is a completely unequal contest between the powerful war machine and the girl. An unarmed and completely naked girl who easily holds the machine in place with nothing more than her bare hands.


Relaxing her arms, the beautiful behemoth lets the tank pull ahead about half its length. Then she pulls it back, the tread still turning as the vehicle moves in the wrong direction. Once she has it back under her again, she squats down, lowering herself down upon the rear deck.


More mortar shells drops down around the lovely leviathan, causing more damage to the buildings around her. One of the shells lands directly on her back with no effect, except perhaps momentarily pressing her sex slightly harder against the vibrating machine.


The gorgeous giantess can feel the engine throbbing as the tank continues its futile effort at escape. The front of the vehicle rises as she rests more of her weight on its rear, wanting to better feel the throbbing.


The turret starts to turn. But it can turn only so far, the rear of the turret bumping against her left arm just above the wrist, the motor not powerful enough to dislodge her treelike arm. The beautiful behemoth barely notices the pressure against the inside of her arm as she throws back her head and begins rubbing her sex against the throbbing machine.


The engine roars as the driver again tries to break out of her grasp. The increased vibrations only serve to excite the curvaceous colossus further, causing her to rub herself harder against the vibrating vehicle.





The tank commander knows when he is defeated. If he can't get his vehicle away from the lovely leviathan, he will at least try to get his crew to safety. He gives the order, hatches pop open, and the crew scramble out of their vehicle. Once on the ground, the men run as fast as they can away from their disabled war machine, and the naked girl sitting atop it. It is not until they are at least a hundred feet away, in the dubious shelter of the damaged apartment buildings, before they turn to look back.


In his haste to escape, the driver has left the engine running. Or perhaps he wishes to take advantage of the gorgeous giantess's distraction and doesn't want to draw attention to his escape by removing the source of her distraction.


If it is the latter, his plan has worked, for the beautiful behemoth continues to sit on the tank, rubbing herself against it, apparently oblivious to everything else around her.





In actuality the beautiful behemoth has noticed the men abandoning their vehicle. She merely pays them no mind, having more pressing matters on her mind.



Or rather, more pressing matters on her sex, as she continues rubbing herself against the throbbing metal monster. Soon she feels the orgasm building up within her. The hull begins to crumple under her hands as she tightens her grip, rubbing herself harder and harder against the tank, using the giant war machine as nothing more than a big vibrator.


Then she is there at the summit. The lovely leviathan lets out a cry, and her legs start to come together. The rear of the tank is crushed between her calves. The treads rub against her ankles briefly before the engine, mangled, finally comes to a halt.


Her sex is still pressed against the hull. Just as the engine dies, the curvaceous colossus reaches another climax. She cries out again and falls forward, completely spent. Her forehead comes down through the long gun, snapping it like a toothpick, before impacting and smashing into the front of the hull. Her breasts come down on squarely on top of the turret, causing it – and the whole tank – to collapse like a house of cards.


The gorgeous giantess lies there atop the crushed tank for several long minutes, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm, her great body heaving with each deep breath and further mangling the remains of the tank.





Rising up out of slumber, the girl opened her eyes and slowly looked around herself. Even in the dark, Elizabeth Bigelow had no trouble recognizing her surroundings. Nor had she any trouble recognizing the person sleeping beside her, his cheek resting against her left breast. As always, Gemini had coalesced himself together during the night to recover his energy after their strenuous lovemaking, unable to maintain separation while he slept.


Betsy was in her room at SuperHeroes, Inc.


In Urbana. On the West Coast of the United States of America. In North America. On the eastern edge of the Pacific Ocean.


Betsy had last been in Japan nearly a year ago, when she'd participated in a successful operation against a black market computer parts ring. And during that operation she'd never needed to stretch her powers anywhere near as far as she'd just dreamed.


For it had to be a dream. She certainly hadn't done anything like a Godzilla impersonation, rampaging through downtown Tokyo, or whatever city she'd dreamed about.


There was something else she'd never done before. Looking down at James Twining's head cradled against her chest, she realized that she was not at her normal size. About eight feet tall, she judged. Not huge by her standards, but she'd never before held any extension while sleeping.


Before she could reduce her size to normal, James stirred and woke. Sensing that she was awake as well, he tentatively reached a hand across her body for her other breast. Having to reach farther then expected, he turned his head to look up at her. Even in the dark, he knew she was not her normal size, and he knew as well as she that she couldn't maintain her extension during sleep. So either she hadn't slept, or had woken up and then grown, anticipating something. Some more sex … or danger?


"Betsy? Something wrong?"


She didn't reply immediately. "No," she said finally, placing her hand over his and pressing it harder against her right breast. "Nothing's wrong." Her other hand turned his head, offering him her left breast and the hardening nub at its center.


James took the offered nipple into his mouth, biting down gently. Then he split himself into two to offer the same service to her other side.


Under Gemini's twin assault, the memory of her dream quickly faded from Big Betsy's mind.

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