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"Spaghetti Sushi"


Bologna is not the first name that comes to mind when talking about

Italy, not even about its north. Yet, with the secret and fascinating

mystery that awaits us round every little corner in life, it is

exactly in this city that the following story took place, not long


I had to go to Milan to see a couple of clients on a business trip

that wouldn't take long but that I was planning to extend -if I

could-, as I usually do, to tour a little around, see a couple of

galleries and, hopefully, get to know a few new ones. I had nearly

decided to pay a short visit to Florence or Venice again -cities to

which I've been many times in my life and are so full of beautiful

memories- when I had the fortunate idea to book a hotel in Bologna

instead, a town that had been highly recommended to me by my bank

manager in Milan. Evasioni, my travel agent, had eventually suggested

the Grand Hotel Baglioni, right on Via dell'Independenza, not far

from the train station and exactly in the middle of everything of

interest in Bologna. I had three or four days at my disposal, which I

was intent on spending slowly but surely getting to know a new city

in my repertoire of so many others along my trips round the world.

You see, I'm a thorough traveler as well as a pedantic tourist. I

find it hard to understand how people jump desperately from country

to country, town to town, site to site, over their short holidays. I

might be a biased judge, though, as -I must admit- not everyone is in

a position to take enough days off, and enough breaks along the year

to fully enjoy, experience and understand the immeasurable pleasures

of every little spot the world has to offer, especially in the Old

Continent, and even more so in such a unique country as my dear


But enough of my ramblings about the ideal tourist and the perfect

trip as no one is reading this to learn how to program a vacation.

Besides, I've wondered many times whether I would get the enjoyment

I'll tell you about if it weren't for my little secret.

I was perfectly happy with my hotel and, as you'll see, I had made

sure to be under the best of terms with the assistant manager, a fine

and slightly overweighed man named Girolamo. Having seen his

inconspicuous body I had been right in striking a casual and friendly

conversation with him about Italian food, of which my knowledge is

considerably poorer than on French. His lively explanation about the

world famous Spaghetti Bolognese was most instructive.

"But you, sir," Girolamo told me, "are too thin to be

a pasta lover".

"My body, my dear friend," I told him with a smile,

"would deceive the most professional cook". 'And

scientist', I added to myself.

My first day in Bologna was a complete delight. I walked about town

holding a street map and local colored guide I had acquired at a

nearby tourist information center. I marveled at the striking red and

pink hues of most historic buildings and stood in awe both in front

and inside the impressive, albeit unfinished, cathedral. It was also

comforting to confirm that my memory hadn't misled me when I

remembered Bologna had been the first university in Europe. But what

really attracted my attention was when, rather late on that first

day, I suddenly found myself standing right across from the leaning

tower, not that of Pisa, but the one of Bologna, which for me (as

surely for most of you), was a completely unheard of site. Yet, as

the lover of heights that I've always been, it was the taller, much

straighter, tower next to the leaning one that bought me over. My

booklet on Bologna said it was possible to climb to its top for a

reasonable fee although, somewhat to my disappointme!

nt, closing time was already over. I immediately made up my mind to

come back next day and, after a rather uneventful evening, it wasn't

long before I went back to my comfortable hotel room, worked as

little as I could at my laptop, and fell peacefully asleep in this

city of dreams.

For understandable reasons, as every tourist will agree, I found it

hard to accept when, next day, I woke up to a rather gray, cloudy

day. I am not easily deterred by adverse conditions, but I thought it

just wouldn't be the same to tour the city under a drizzle, let alone

the blurred view of Bologna I would inevitably get from atop the

tower. My fears proved to be wrong, as I ended up owing to the stormy

weather the unforgettable time I had over there. It was precisely

that gray sky that revealed the woman to me.

After a delicious breakfast at the hotel I decided it was the ideal

day for a museum, which also left some hope for a clearer afternoon

and outdoor activities. As it happened I invested most of my time

touring three or four of the palazzi, including the famous Palazzo

dell'Archiginnasio, which was the seat of Bologna University for

three hundred years before it moved to the Palazzo Poggi, at the

beginning of the nineteenth century. About four o'clock in the

afternoon I looked up at the sky and saw that the annoying drizzle

seemed to finally be giving way and I made up my mind to go for the

two towers I had seen the day before. I was there after a few

minutes' walk, as everything is so delightfully close by in all these

medieval towns. I stepped into the taller tower (and only one open to

the public, as the other one is ridiculously tilted) through the iron

gate and bought my ticket at the rather deserted window. The guy

behind looked very bored indeed and made no great effor!

ts to appease my concerned expression when I looked at the ancient

and frightening stone walls, nowadays reinforced everywhere with

sturdy metal stripes. Looking up into the wooden and equally old

staircase, which tapered away into an invisible spot somewhere above,

I realized the huge sign warning that the tower was 97 meters high

(about 300 feet) was quite justifiably there. Now, I'm a fit man,

still young, and nothing whets more my appetite than a fair physical

challenge. Besides, as I took my first steps into the stairs I heard

voices of a few people coming down, including a child's. Then I knew

it would be all right.

The climb turned out to be a tough one indeed. What I had seen from

the bottom wasn't but the first stage of steps of five or six more I

encountered along my way up, ever narrower, steeper and more

dangerous. I did cross my path with two or three more people or tiny

group of them climbing down, all of us invariably panting and

stupidly smiling at each other, as we squeezed our bodies to make

way. Long vertical slots along the tower let light and a refreshing

breeze through the thick walls. Finally, after what seemed a never

ending amount of time, I reached the last flight of stairs. Wiping

the sweat off my brow I made it to the narrow wooden door that led

into the roof.

I must say my effort was absolutely rewarded. The cool, clean air

and, above all, the fantastic view from the top was a sight I'll find

it hard to forget, in spite of the heavy clouds. You could see the

entire red city from the best spot in town, and far into the

surrounding hills with all their constructions, new and all,

scattered over them. It was a glorious moment, one in which you feel

united with the world, its people and history. I made sure to go

round all four sides of the tower and appreciate the different angles

of the view before I took a few minutes to relax and decide when to

get back down.

I found my own space on one of the corners and placed my body against

the wall from where I could also see the people around me. There

weren't many, maybe fewer than a dozen. I saw a mother speaking in

perfect Italian to her two sons of maybe fourteen and nine, who

answered her in perfect English with British accent, I saw a German

couple in their mid fifties hardly exchanging a word but very

seriously appreciating the view and taking selective pictures with a

sophisticated camera. There were also two Australian youngsters with

long blond hair and beard, smoking away and chatting quietly about

girls, and a lone tourist of unknown origin as he didn't speak and

was dressed as any Western man would be. So what really attracted my

attention was the only odd one out: a Japanese woman of thirty, or

less, of very white complexion and quite elegantly dressed, as I

always am myself.

Now, as the big traveler I've been all my life, I consider myself to

be a citizen of the world. Japan is a country I also have some

business with and I've been to more than once. Yet my knowledge of it

is still quite scant. Its people remain a bit of a mystery to me and,

to be honest, I've never developed a taste for its women. As we all

know this is a matter almost impossible to tackle without admitting

in the end that it all boils down to a question of personal taste,

upbringing and social and cultural patterns. The only reason I'm

putting this down is not to justify my likes but to enhance the fact

that the Japanese lady in question did exercise a strong drive on me.

I've learnt to never question my instincts in life. They are my best

friends, they are the sensors that know me as nothing else does and,

to sum it up, they are the real me. Like it or not, when I feel

something is right (or wrong) I just go by it. And this is precisely

what was occurring right now. I kept stealing glances at the woman,

who was quietly enjoying the view -as we all were- with a pleasant

smile on her oval face, giving tiny steps in her fine clear shoes on

the ancient stone floor. Within a few seconds I had made up my

strategy. All I needed was a little eye contact, maybe a slight

physical touch and, hopefully, some good luck. Slipping my hand into

the pocket of my jacket I drew out a small camera I usually carry on

me on pleasure trips even though I'm not a keen photo taker. After

making a couple of pictures myself I bided my time and casually

turned round when she was right behind me. Facing her straight, I put

on my most winning smile and said in a gentleman!

ly fashion,

"Would you be so kind as to take my picture?" and stretched

out my arm offering her my camera.

The lady smiled in turn and, most naturally, said "Of


I liked her pose, her response and her perfect accent. Then the first

sign came in. When depositing the camera into her hands I felt both

the softness and firmness in them, and saw at close range her

perfectly manicured nails, of medium length and delicately polished.

They were warm and nice to the touch. Things were definitely going

well. A lady with good hands is an unsurpassable starting point for

me. I knew I'd still have to go some way before knowing for sure that

she was what I had an instinct she would be, and I was ready to act

and wait. But, then, luck was on my side. For as she put the camera

to her face and I was looking in its direction, just a split of a

second before she presser the button, a lightning flashed across the

gray sky, right behind the woman's head, and for a fleeting instant I

saw her in all her glory.

As clearly as you see these lines I saw her beauty, her mind and her

spirit. I saw her power, her force and her will. I saw her knowledge,

wisdom and determination. I saw her nature, forgiveness, and


She, of course, couldn't know it yet; but I had seen all I needed.

For she was a natural, born giantess.


After my sudden yet sure discovery I knew the road to befriending the

woman was well paved. Once I detect a giantess, especially one of the

highest quality as this Japanese lady was, there is very little that

can stand in our way. For example, I first feared she might be

accompanied by a husband or, at least, a boyfriend or family of some

sort, given that you don't see that many oriental women traveling by

themselves. The fact that there was no one there on top of the tower

didn't mean that there might not be someone waiting for her

downstairs. As I soon discovered I shouldn't have worried at all, as

she was alone all right. But I must confess to you that even if she

had been in good company, the mutual attraction is just too great to

be easily challenged and, more often than not, restraint will stem

out of some moral objection either from me or from the woman, as it's

happened more than once along my particular career.

On getting my camera back and smiling again at each other I made a

casual comment about the beauty of the city scenery from our vantage

point together with some funny remark about how unusually hard the

stair climb had been and how everybody looked pretty tired after it.

She responded to my simple initiative with gentle agreement and

attitude. I could read her interest and curiosity in her body

language. She had a mellow, extremely well articulated voice; her

English was impeccable, with hardly a trace of the Japanese accent.

It actually seemed to have a mixture of all accents (which is a bit

like my own case), that gave her language a neutral and refined turn.

After a few minutes of showing each other from our roof the little we

had learned about Bologna and commenting on how marvelous it was, I

asked her whether she would climb down the stairs now. Then we

started our way back down, carefully stepping on those narrow treads,

inevitably joking at how thoughtful we all seeme!

d about placing our feet in the right place. Within a few minutes we

had reached the bottom of the tower again and stepped out of the main

entrance into the busy street. Facing each other and after a brief

hesitation I stretched out my hand and said,


"Mariko," she answered.

By then I had my plan drawn. Pulling out of my pocket the city guide

I suggested having a look at the Piazza Otto Agosto, which I hadn't

seen yet in detail and, since Mariko had spent but a few hours in

town and had seen far less than me, she agreed to walk with me in

that direction. The weather was stable, albeit cold and gray, but

even if it drizzled again it wouldn't prevent anybody from a lovely

little saunter to the park.

We spent the next hour together chatting away on this and that. After

the usual pleasantries Mariko told me she was touring Italy alone on

a short holiday she had managed to scratch out of a trip for work.

She had a fairly important job at a small company based, incredibly,

in South Africa.

"You seem to have an amazing globe trotting record," I

pointed out.

"Well," Mariko said, "my father was with the Japanese

diplomatic service for over twenty years, especially when I was

growing up."

She had been brought up in England as well as in France and Austria,

with stints in the States and South Africa, where she had finally


"I guess mine is a bit of an unusual story for a Japanese

woman," she went on. "Something like Mitsuko Uchida's


If she was tasting my cultural knowledge, she had definitely chosen

the right path. After a rapid memory search I asked,

"The pianist?"

She smiled.

Mariko was an enchanting lady. She possessed the refinement and

balance of speech and judgment that not many have. She was

meticulously yet naturally and elegantly dressed. Her clear beige

suit of knee length skirt and jacket fitted her graceful body

superbly. Her hair touch was done to perfection and her gait and

movement were extremely feminine. The modest amount of makeup she had

on was so tastefully used that you could hardly notice it. And her

smile and pleasant facial expression were constantly making you want

to look at her more and more. Mariko was a true lady. You see, any

female can be a woman, but not many can be ladies. Whether it's a

question of birth or acquisition is an open debate I'd be the last

person willing to go into, but the fact itself shouts out its truth

to the four winds and there's nothing anyone can do about it. Women

are a race; ladies are a class.

The late afternoon quickly turned into evening and, before we knew

it, it was dark and slightly colder. Sure of not getting rejected I

suggested having dinner together. She accepted in a most natural way.

We felt at ease with each other, experiencing that marvelous

sensation of having known one another for a long time, even though we

hadn't spent but a couple of hours together. The day before I had

noticed a lovely restaurant a few blocks away from the historic

center, but had thought it a waste to go there to dine alone, as it

saddens me beyond words to find myself in a romantic environment when

I'm by myself and, as much as I can, try to avoid such situations.

Tonight, though, the scenario had changed quite radically and I was

ready to take full advantage of it. When Mariko saw the luxury of the

house she gave the smallest sign of hesitation, but my encouraging

smile showed her dinner would be my treat.

We walked into the "Me' Gusta di Porta San Felice" about

nine o'clock in the evening. The ambiance was warm and relaxing. A

soft music played lazily in the background. Tables were spacious and

chairs wide and comfortable. In spite of the restaurant's

sophistication we decided to try the famous Spaghetti Bolognese,

which -as Girolamo, the hotel assistant manager, had explained to me

the day before- here is called 'Spaghetti al Ragù'. I have to say it

was delicious, as was the Chianti we ordered and the prize winning

tiramisu the waiter brought as dessert.

Our conversation continued to develop. I'm a good listener and have

quite a reputation for letting people express themselves as they wish

and for as long as they want to. I usually ask the right questions

and have people opening up and letting out certain bottled up energy

of desires, opinions and confessions. I also contribute my bit, but

my peculiar life on our beautiful yet cruel planet has taught me to

keep to myself things better left in the dark. Of course, as you'll

soon see, on the rare occasion I do reveal my little secret, I

usually become a center of attention I've dutifully learned to escape


Mariko was twenty nine years old, and already divorced. She had

married quite young 'for the wrong reasons to the wrong man' as she

put it. Thank God, always in her opinion, she hadn't brought any

children to the world, so splitting up had been a fairly easy matter.

I didn't ask much, but it was obvious she had lived some very

unpleasant experiences during her marriage, as she had no words of

sympathy whatsoever for her ex husband. I thought to myself, although

I'd never say it to her, than any man having the privilege of

marrying such a lady and not managing to keep her had to be an ass,

completely unworthy of her.

By the time dinner was over I felt my body in all its demanding

strength claiming for the beauty I had in front of me. As the waiter

brought back my credit card and gratefully accepted my generous tip,

Mariko placed a vibrant, delicate hand on mine and simply uttered,

"Thank you, James."

I liked her attitude as much as I liked all of her. And I could also

sense she was burning in desire as much as I was. We went out into

the fresh night and, suddenly and simultaneously, placed our arms

round each other's body: me, over her shoulder; she, around my waist.

We hadn't walked but a few yards before I stopped under the shadow of

a dark corner and faced Mariko with shining eyes. I felt my blood

warm up my body and took the woman in my arms. Within a second we

were kissing frantically. I slipped my right hand behind her rear and

brought her tightly against my manhood. Before her hips reached mine

she had quickly lowered her hand to my hard-on. We rubbed and

massaged every part of each other's body as it was possible under the

unsafe protection of a dark street and it wasn't long before we

started moaning and panting. My tongue had gone deep into her sweet

mouth and hers into mine. I was also gently biting her lower lip,

which she corresponded massaging my crotch. Af!

ter quite a while of this maddening frenzy I looked at her with

serious expression and asked her silently whether she'd come with me

to my hotel. Her equally mute response found us walking to the

luxurious Grand Baglioni tightly hugging each other.

Getting Mariko into my hotel room wasn't a problem. And an exchange

of glances and quiet gestures between me and Girolamo, the assistant

manager, indicated clearly that breakfast and other arrangements

wouldn't be a hindrance. He knew I pay well. The woman and me,

burning with desire, went up to my room and didn't take long in

finding ourselves lustfully undressing each other with hardly

restrained passion. She possessed a most beautifully proportional

body. It was lean, young and gracious. Her limbs were flexibly

sculpted, her legs -imperceptibly arched- perfectly shaped, her feet

white and warm. Her arms had the appearance of a ballerina's, her

bony hands deserving of a poem. Her lean, tapering fingers ended in

delicately polished nails that she proved to be a real master at

using them during sex. As we finished taking each other's clothes

off, I started kissing her small yet immensely attractive breasts.

They were perking, desperately calling my mouth and lips. She went d!

own on her knees and started licking my groin and then my behind. We

soon rolled into bed and gave our beings to the secrets of love.

I tried on Mariko a lot of positions I knew would please her, and

left out a few others I thought might clash with her love making

style. She was incredibly responsive and turned out to be an amazing

partner. Her own initiatives, as when she climbed on top of my chest

and took charge, or when she wrapped my upper body and neck with her

long, elastic leg, adapted utterly well to my taste. We held our

coitus for a very long time, which really proves the lover's quality.

After turning round in bed, touching, kissing, licking, and teasing

each other for what seemed to be half the night I penetrated her for

the fist time. I felt my waist fit gloriously within her hips, and

was right in guessing Mariko's flexible young body would permit lots

of possibilities, lifting, turning and twisting her fabulous limbs. I

inserted my penis into her vagina from the front, from behind and

from the side. Her legs could be stretched out to form a straight

line, which let me go to the very end and!

feel my testicles get drunk with ecstasy as they tickled against her

triangle. When I was sure I couldn't reach any more pleasure I still

felt her firm and soft index finger find its way into my anus, which

nearly drove me crazy with lust. Yet I waited till I saw she was

cumming and held it to the very last second. We came together in a

climax of absolute madness as our bodies shook vibrantly while

strongly holding each other. It had been one of the best sexual

experiences of my life and, believe you me, I've had many.

The rest of the night was but an uninterrupted sequence of sleep and

sex, of the sweetest dreams and the best intercourse. Morning still

caught us playing away, and unbelievably happy. And, more importantly

although hidden to her, I had seen enough along the night to confirm

once and again my primal instinct when I had first seen her the

afternoon before on the tower.

We took our time and slept a bit more, but I've been a morning bird

all my life and would get up even if I haven't winked an eye all

night; and apparently so is she. After showering together with more

hugs and kisses we were ready for breakfast. We descended into the

luxurious morning room and immediately ordered. Mariko looked radiant

by the window side, her eternal smile turned into a totally happy

face. And, as we had our breakfast I started to wonder when it might

be a good time to finally stating showing my other, realer self to


My first opportunity didn't take long to arrive. Mariko having just

finished her café latte, usually served on a tall, slim glass,

playfully slid it across the small table to my half of it. Taking the

challenge I placed two fingers on the glass top and pushed it back to

her, leaving it quite near her body. She looked at me naughtily and

dragged the glass in my direction again. The glass height was the

perfect excuse. Putting a finger on the rim I asked,

"What would you do if this glass were a little man this high

trying to move toward you when you don't want him near?", and

swiftly slid it until it nearly touched her blouse, never taking my

eyes off hers.

I saw the sparkle on her face as the idea took shape in her

imagination. Taking now the glass from the top with all her fingers,

Mariko said,

"I would show him exactly where he should stand," and

proceeded to move the glass to an indefinite spot on the table.

"And where would that be?" I asked curiously, my six senses

on high alert.

"That would be exactly where I tell him to," said the woman

slowly, her face suddenly betraying a different smile.

At last I knew it. I had been right!


The day appeared cloudless and sunny, although it wasn't precisely

warm. Mariko and I went out to the street and she expressed her will

to go back to her hotel, not far from mine, to change into some new

clothes. We started to walk that way along Via dell'Independenza when

I suddenly had the idea of presenting her with some new clothing. She

hesitated for a little while but I insisted. There's nothing like

accompanying a lady to buy clothes, especially if they're ready to

follow your advice, which is usually what happens to me, as my taste

is not bad at all. We looked at the various fashion shops in the area

and soon decided to go into one that had a young but elegant line on

display. Their clothes bought us over, especially as we discovered

our tastes were much akin. I thought Mariko could go for a shorter

skirt than the one she had on, as her legs really deserved an even

better exposure, always within the good taste I knew she'd favor. She

went for a navy blue one, with a !

short cut on either side that marked her beautiful legs even more

when walking. Then she accompanied it with a pink and delicate silk

blouse, which was exactly the right size for her moderate cleavage

and I insisted on buying her a white fine sweater too. Once she had

all that on I found her even more attractive than the day before.

Mariko really possessed a fine, awesome figure. The only item missing

now was a good pair of shoes, my very specialty. For a moment I saw

her having a hard time accepting dear presents from a man she had

just met, but my manner reassured her. I've always managed my money

pretty well, allotting not little of it to charity as well. So I feel

completely justified in spending it as well as I see fit, even if

it's to please something as frivolous as a whim; and even more so

when it can represent a valuable gift to someone else.

At the shoe store next door I saw Mariko wisely diverting her eyes

toward the high heel section, as nothing would have fitted the

clothes we had just bought better than a three or four inch high

shoe. Then, obviously, as the tourist she was still planning to be

for the rest of the day, I saw she was having second thoughts.

"Who's gonna walk a lot today, anyway?" I whispered into

her ear, while gently biting her lobe. Mariko let a little laughter

out and stepped into the greatest pair of high heels you can imagine

to walk out of the shop in them. She was a vision! I was very well

dressed myself and, I'm telling you, our presence didn't go unnoticed

that day in Bologna.

First we continued on to Mariko's hotel, the Savoia, in order to have

her stuff sent over to my very room in mine. Then I would have gone

back to the Baglioni to have more of my lover's art, but I knew a

little walk in the park would end up enhancing ten times as much the

pleasure we both wanted. All I needed was a little time. As we walked

hand in hand like a couple of teenagers, I wasn't wrong in guessing

that, with a little guidance, it wouldn't be long before we talked

some more about the 'tiny naughty man' idea I had first mentioned

earlier on during breakfast.

"So, where is it exactly you'd tell that little man to stay in

case he still wanted to impolitely grab at your breasts?" I

asked after the issue had been brought up.

"What's with you and that idea?" she inquired curiously,

pinching my bottom with her fingers.

But I knew she was interested.

"Oh, nothing. Just forget it," I pretended to dismiss the

subject with a wave of my hand.

Within a few seconds she looked at me and said,

"Anyway, how could he try to touch me when I'm now standing and

he's down there on the floor?"

"Maybe you should take him into your arms and lift him off the

ground a little," I suggested.

"Well, he's been ill-disciplined, hasn't he?" the woman

replied. "So he should learn his lesson first."

"And what would that lesson be?" I wanted to know.

"Well…," she was pensive. "First off, he'd have to

stay down there for as long as I think it adequate, maybe a few

days," Mariko said. "He'd have to get used to look up at me

and respect my presence. Only when seeing a change in his

disrespectful attitude would I consider letting him back on a chair

or even table and allow him to look at me from a somewhat higher


"And if he refused to obey and continued to misbehave?" I

poked her on.

"Then I'd tighten my grip proportionally to his

rebelliousness," she said as a matter of fact.

"Technically, he doesn't have a chance, does he?"

"I guess not," I considered. "And, how do you feel

when imposing your rules on such a defenseless fellow?" I asked,

very interested in her answer.

"Well, if he's in such a disadvantageous position," Mariko

reasoned, "what's he doing trying to challenge such much bigger

a force?"

Logical as her reply was, I still expressed,

"Maybe he really wants to get that reaction from you."

"So I'm giving him exactly what he's looking for, aren't

I?" and she winked at me.

I'm telling you, she was a born giantess. Because women might be a

race, and ladies sure are a class. But giantesses, my friends, Cómo hacer una captura de pantalla larga en Xiaomi en MIUI

giantesses are a caste.

"If, for some weird reason, you were stuck together with a tiny

fellow," I continued. "How would you like him to be?"

"Friendly, I guess," she responded. "And maybe


"Which means…"

"Well, I wouldn't like to find myself having to help him with

every little thing in life," she said. "I guess we'd strike

a kind of deal on how to live together."

"For example?"

"I don't know…," Mariko doubted. "He'd have to take

care of small chores around, or make sure to keep things and

paperwork organized…"

"Have you ever thought about the idea?" I approached the


"Not really, but sounds interesting," was her reply.

"How about the possibility of being next to a man, albeit

little, that is constantly under your sight and supervision?" I


"Hmmm…," Mariko looked at me with curious and mischievous

eyes. "I might like that!" she winked at me. But…,"

she added, "where are you going with this theory?"

Taking her beautiful, delicate hand I led the woman to a bench, where

we both sat down to rest a little.

"Mariko, there's something I need to tell you," I opened up.

The thirty minute or so conversation that ensued was along the

patterns I know so well by now. Revealing my secret has never been

easy, but considering that at the beginning it had been almost

impossible I think it a big achievement to have been able to sum it

up within around half an hour; and that only in instances where I

decided to prepare the lady, as in Mariko's case, because many times

I have just plunged into my thing, sometimes scaring the hell out of

the huge woman.

She looked at me with a confused face.

"Just what are you talking about?" she cautiously said.

I gently took her hand and made her stand up and look me into the

eye. Without a word I started a slow but steady march back to the

hotel. The woman was meekly following me, I guess waiting to see

where exactly I was headed. I could feel her understandable mistrust

and couldn't afford to waste much precious time. When entering the

Baglioni I told the receptionist we were not to be disturbed under

any circumstances and quickly led Mariko into my room. Her belongings

had already arrived, and were orderly arranged by a wall, next to a

small table, although we didn't need them for the time being. The

woman looked at me full of anxiety and a pinch of fear as she saw me

carefully lock the door and tidily get undressed. Within seconds I

was standing naked and extremely aroused in front of the attractive,

elegantly dressed Japanese lady. Being naturally tall and in heels,

she was almost my height and looked at me with an enormous mixture of

curiosity and confusion. For a split of a !

second I thought I had lost her, in which case I wouldn't be able to

perform my trick, but I realized we would survive the second she

started to respond to my caresses. Slowly but surely we began to kiss

again, to fondle and to rub our bodies against each others'. My eyes

shut, my mind increasingly trying to find the 'spot', I kissed and

hugged and stroked until I felt I was ready. As predictably as ever,

I lost consciousness for a few seconds and only retained the faintest

sensation of falling into the abyss as I plunged into a semi trance.

When I opened my eyes I saw a huge Mariko holding me in her gigantic

hands and looking at me with the widest slanted eyes the world has

ever seen. I had turned into a twelve-inch-tall mini man, light as a

feather, fearful as a mouse, happy as paradise, horny as hell. The

woman had turned into a giantess like she would have never dreamed

anyone could be, and was holding in her suddenly and amazingly

empowered hands a living, thinking creature from an unknown world of

myth and fantasy waiting for her much expected reaction. My secret,

my little secret, had worked once again.

"Holy Mother of Christ!" she pronounced very slowly.

"How do you do it?" she whispered in awe.

And, within a few moments, the most tender, maternal smile had formed

in her lips. Now she knew I hadn't been lying. Now she was mine… and

I was hers.


After recovering from her initial shock, Mariko proceeded to gently

deposit me on the carpeted floor. I had turned into a tiny,

twelve-inch-tall man, completely naked and utterly defenseless, in

front of a tall, slim, beautifully proportioned Japanese lady of

thirty, wearing the sexiest outfit and looking down at me in total

amazement. Much as I had prepared her during our little talk in the

park, I knew it wouldn't make any sense to her until she actually saw

me. I smiled up at her to show both my friendliness and reassurance.

Mariko stretched a careful finger toward my head and very gently

removed a lock of hair from my forehead with her delicate nail.

"How do you do it, James?" she asked for the second time.

"How I do it is a very long story, Mariko," I answered her.

My voice was louder than usual, which is the only way I can be heard

by someone so many times my size, although I knew it wouldn't be but

a squeak to her. "The really important thing right now is to

fully enjoy the privilege this will give both of us!"

The maternal streak was the first to surface to Mariko's approach, as

it happens all too frequently with good giantesses. Almost dismissing

what I'd have to say she slid her hands under my armpits and

gracefully lifted me into the air, making me feel the inevitable yet

intoxicating vertigo. Her touch was electrifyingly arousing. My tiny

penis was fully stretched and kept its stand even more so once she

sat down on the edge of the double bed, crossed her magnificent legs,

and placed my naked tush on her bare knee. The contact of my soft

butt cheeks against her firm round kneecap pushed my hard-on even


If I had been right Mariko wouldn't pester me with questions. She'd

take me -and my transformation- for what I am and go along with it.

After silently looking at me for what seemed to be a very long time

she must have concluded that experiencing such a total overpowering

sensation was well worth my privacy. Once accepted my condition the

woman apparently felt compelled to get some tactile assessment of the

little man. She brought her glorious fingers into the scene again and

started rubbing every part of my little body. She slid them over my

chest, behind my back, under my cock and between my legs. Wherever

deciding it was safe enough, she also used her hard and cool nails to

get me going. Thus, she gently scratched my skull, played around with

my nipples and had a go at tickling my feet. As if to test my

endurance she stayed at my feet for a while longer, secretly enjoying

my futile efforts to try to wriggle myself out of her powerful

tickle. Mariko was quickly getting the !

grasp of what to have a mouse of a man in her hands was, learning

fast the boundaries between pleasure and pain, exactly as she had

done the previous night, and which sets the quality of the real love

maker. After quite a few minutes of that she decided to let me find

my own way about her body. The woman slowly withdrew her fine hands

from my trunk and made me balance on her knees as I waded my way

across her crossed leg and onto her lap.

In spite of all our talk about the little naughty man (and his

punishment) trying to touch her breasts, Mariko sexily started to

unbutton her pink new blouse as I reached her chest. Hardly changing

her erect position, she also undid her bra from behind and let it

land aside. Finding myself in front of the perkiest pair of tits you

can imagine I plunged lustily into them, sucking them both in turns

while, alternatively, roughly kneading the other one with all of my

hand, which wasn't but a pleasant caress to her. The giantess's

moaning didn't take long to come and, together with it, she let her

upper body lean gently back on the big bed. I stretched horizontally

on her and continued my frenzied business on her breasts. Then I saw

her wet her finger with saliva and bring it behind my ass, which she

started to massage. It felt like warm oil and I thought my dick was

going to take off from my crotch, such was the erection it gave me.

I was still busy in the chest department when Mariko softly but

assertively lifted me up and placed me on her panties. As a little

employee who's been assigned a different but equally interesting task

I started to work my way into it. Before I knew it she had taken her

skirt off and rolled the panties down her glorious legs. I found

myself bouncing in the mattress that her dark pubic hair formed and

deftly inserted my arm into her pussy. Finding instantly her clit, I

grabbed the thing in my hand and pressed hard with all five fingers.

Mariko let out a heavenly cry and I hoped no one would be walking

past our room door then! In response to my pleasure giving, she

roughly passed her nail over my back. I felt the terrible tension on

my flimsy skin resisting her very special rub. We were getting mad

with desire but we knew we had just started our act.

Leaving her center for a while, I swam my way down her shapely legs

and soon found myself reaching her knees again. Then the woman lifted

her body again and slowly started to get up on her feet. The vertical

position she adopted speeded up my way down her legs and very quickly

I was standing by the giantess's huge high heel shoes. I looked up at

her impossibly tall body and met the sweetest smile on her face.

Wondering what she'd do next, I rapidly realized she wanted to stop

fondling for a little while and get pleasure of another kind. I was

right, for calling me with a silent gesture of her finger she crossed

over the big room (the size of a small football stadium to me) and

went to stand in front of a full body mirror on the wall. Watching

her walk in the room, every one of her steps an impossibly long

stretch for me, was the mental equivalent to the physical pleasure I

had felt so far. But, after running across the room and standing

right next to her feet, I got not only!

the mental, but also the very spiritual reward. Just imagine for a

second what to stand next to a thirty-five-foot-tall naked beauty in

heels would be and you'll get an inkling of what I felt then. Mariko

was also reveling in heaven. She looked at us from the front and from

behind. Then she turned her back on me and told me to measure my back

against her shoe. My bottom reached her upper heel, by back touched

the leather of the actual shoe.

"God, you're tiny," she marveled.

Then she suddenly crouched down and took me in her hands again. A few

steps brought her back to bed and she put me on the pillow. My

giantess took off her shoes and lay back naked on her side next to

me. I attacked as much of her body as I could at my tiny size. I went

all over it and, wherever I went, I was followed by Mariko's hands,

legs, feet or face, as she saw fit. We tossed around in bed for a

long time that noon and drove each other crazy working on the

sensitive points, as we had learnt to do the previous night, when we

both were the same size. It was absolute bliss and we knew the sky

was the limit.

Finally I went first. Finding her clitoris again I repeated my trick

as before, only that this time I grabbed it between thumb and one

finger only, as I knew it would provoke a sharper feeling. After a

couple of minute in which the woman stretched her holding power for

as much as she could, she came amidst shouts and panting, while

pressing my entire body against her triangle with the palm of her

hand. I was terribly sweaty and aroused and had to make a huge effort

myself not to cum there and then before she could choose how to make

me to.

Once Mariko calmed down a little, she suddenly lifted me into the air

and saying "Come here, you little clown," placed me with my

belly right under her nose, my penis completely taken between her

lips. Her mouth was wet and her lips were sticky. She trapped it in

such a way that I thought they had been created to form the perfect

sheath to my dick. Her sucking was relentless and bordering on the

painful. This woman was the perfect giantess down to the last detail.

I tried and resist it a bit longer but had to let go lest my head

would blow. When I came my shaking was so powerful that, in spite of

my tiny size, Mariko had to steady me against her mouth with the palm

of her hand. I stayed there for endless minutes while the happy woman

sucked away every little drop that continued to come out. Utterly

content yet incredibly tired, I quickly found my niche in my

goddess's breasts, and fell peacefully asleep.


We must have been sleeping for something like two hours when I woke

up placidly on Mariko's body. She had fallen asleep on her back and I

was comfortably lying on her bosom. One of her hands was near me and

I approached and kissed it delicately. The woman smiled and stretched

her arms aside. Then she looked at me at close range and said,

"Who are you, little man? Where do you come from?"

All she got for an answer was my happy face and lots of little kisses

all over her chest. I knew she was still enchanted with the idea of

interacting with such a small person and more than willing to explore

it further. Seeing my own desire manifest itself in my little penis's

growing erection, Mariko sweetly took me in one of her hands and


"Come here, little fellow, you and I need a bath."

I was very happy to be taken to the bathroom and see the lady turn on

a powerful stream of warm, clear water to prepare our next scenario.

While the bathtub quickly filled up, she stood me on the toilet seat

and held me there for me to pee. Then she gently placed me inside the

sink while she sat for a minute on the toilet too. While in there I

found myself surrounded by the sink's pale pink walls, seeing but

Mariko's face. I tried to steal a peek at the rest of her body but

found that I had to stretch well beyond my height to do that. On

seeing my puny little efforts, she winked at me and said,

"A man should never see a lady in such a prosaic position."

Mariko was obviously getting a taste of how overpowering she could

be, even when only teasing. After flushing the toilet and seeing the

tub half full already, the giantess took both my hands in her fingers

and, suspending me over the water -which was like a huge swimming

pool to me- said,

"In you go, sweetheart."

And with that she let go of me and I plunged into the warm tub. My

feet touched the bottom but I was unable to stand if I wanted to

breathe too, so I had to tread water and wait for Mariko to step in,

which happened immediately after. The tub was pretty large and the

woman stretched her legs across it while sticking her back to the

oval side. I soon found myself floating between her shining knees and

placing my hands on them to gain balance. Mariko was in heaven with

the scene and playfully started tickling my little armpits and

teasing me in other ways. We laughed a lot as I tried to keep a

vertical position and she boycotted against it in every possible

manner. Then I plunged down into the warm water and made a go for her

pussy. I nearly reached it when Mariko's huge hand appeared out of

nowhere and carefully blocked my way to it.

"It's about time we draw some distance between us, little

man," she said naughtily as I surfaced up again.

A mischievous smile was drawn on her face, waiting to see my

reaction. She had obviously taken in our role play of earlier that

morning and was trying to act it out. I must say she was doing it to

perfection. Under water and all, my erection was already making me

drunk with lust.

"Oh, yes?" I took the challenge. "We'll see about

that," and I plunged again in.

I tried to dive my way behind her bottom to find an exit under her

arms but found the woman's rounded hips blocking most of the tub

width, let alone her hands and beautiful fingers, constantly

following my every movement and preventing me from operating freely.

She was being extremely careful and none of her actions could have

possibly harmed me. It was, then, a supreme game of strength in which

I could use all my capabilities. Eventually I came back to my

starting point between her legs and thrust my little body up to hold

on to one of her knees as when someone tries to climb on a rock in

the sea. By then the tub was almost full and I found the amount of

water being more of a hindrance than before. Mariko slightly shook

her leg and made me fall clumsily down into the water again.

"Poor little man," she pouted and smiled. "He doesn't

know how to stand firm in front of a woman."

"He doesn't, eh?" I still showed myself confident.

Making a total turn I swam toward the feet end of the tub and tried

to climb on top of it, out of the reach of Mariko's hands, with the

intention of edging the border and 'attacking' the woman from the

side. But the minute I tried to get out of the water a huge and white

foot gently touched my back from behind and I immediately made me

fall back in. I quickly looked back to see Mariko sticking a funny

tongue at me.

"Oh, n, n, no," she said shaking her head negatively.

"You'll have to try harder, dear."

"You'll see, you!" I braved her, and turned back for the

tub edge again.

But the second I thought I might be getting out her foot came in

again and down I dived without a chance. God, she was really getting

the taste of it. And it had me rocking. Once I stuck my head out of

the water again, Mariko placed her flexible foot behind my back and

steadily pushed me toward her body. It felt as if a strong wave were

forcing me from behind. Thus I arrived to her chest, no longer

controlling my own movements. I thought she'd give me a break now but

she had more in store for me.

"Let me show you, little man, how easy it is to make it out of

the water," she said.

The giantess grabbed my tiny body with her soft hand of steel and,

lifting me well into the air, proceeded to place me on the tub edge.

I was still getting hold of myself and dripping all over when she


"You see how easy?" she teased me. "Now, you try!"

Then, as quickly as she had gotten me out of the 'pool', she put her

finger behind my tush and started to push me toward the water again.

Suddenly I was skating with my bare feet on the slippery surface of

the tub edge and, in no time, flying into the water. She had

completely overpowered me and was utterly enjoying her game. She was

calm, confident and expectant. I was in total heaven!

Once more I tried to reach the rim by myself to be gently knocked

down again with her feet. She playfully turned me around in the water

and eventually slipped three fingers around my little feet, one

between my ankles, the other two at either side. My body was free,

but my feet were cuffed. The giant woman held me at the right height

to leave my body submerged into the water but my head out. I still

used my little arms to keep balance and was ecstatic waiting for her

move. She crooked her long arm a little and brought me closer to

herself. She spoke sexily,

"Now you are in my power, aren't you?"

Trapped at my feet, my tiny body clumsily fighting to stay erect in

the water, I answered,

"Always, my queen."

"That's a good answer, little man," she was satisfied.

"But, just to make sure that we understand each other…" she

said, and started to lower her hand, making the water reach my chin,

"I'll give you one small assignment."

The giantess lowered me even more. I felt the water reach my upper

lip and eventually my nose. Now I wouldn't be able to breathe unless

Mariko eased her grip on me a little. I had to crane my neck and push

my head forcibly back to catch a last inhalation before the water

reached my eyes. I instinctively tried to free my legs only to find

that if I insisted the huge finger pressure around them prevented me

from even budging.

"You are to go down to my feet and kiss them both before coming

back to me," she ordered. "Is that understood?"

I tried to answer but my mouth was under the water already. Lifting

me immediately she assertively asked,

"What's that, little man?"

"Yes, my queen!" I answered, in awe.

"That's a good boy," she concluded, and let go of my feet.

I slowly swam my way across her legs and reached the woman's feet, so

clean and wet, and started kissing them frantically. I went about

those heavenly feet, one by one: ankles, heels and toes. I sucked and

licked at her toes and strong nails and wallowed in them for an

eternity. I don't even know what Mariko did while I was in such a

trance. I guess she just looked at me and marveled at the whole

thing. Hopefully, it aroused her too. The thing is, when I finished

and 'came to' so to speak, I found her looking at me and smiling.

Then, seeing my red erection, she suddenly said,

"Come here, now, you little clown. I think you've earned your


The woman proceeded to soap all of my body and massage every part of

it. Her touch was so incredibly angelical, and I was so desperately

horny! She tossed me around in her masterful hands and made sure I

was presentable enough, for she asked,

"Are you clean enough for me, little man?"

Then, she grabbed me with one hand, sliding her thumb across my

little chest and gently pressing my back against her other fingers.

Once secured in her grip, Mariko did what I had experienced only in

but a handful of occasions before. She took my penis with two fingers

but not in a pinching position: her index nail, strong and hard, went

under the lower, softer, part of my dick, and her middle fingertip,

firm but soft, came on the upper part, harder and less sensitive. All

of a sudden my penis was in what seemed to be its natural habitat. It

felt protected, it felt at home. The woman started to pull back and

forth those two fingers with my little member in them while tightly

holding all of my body in her other hand. I almost fainted with

pleasure as this massage went on forever. I closed my eyes and saw

the colors of the world parade in front of my imagination. Mariko was

a gift from paradise. When I came my little white drops covered every

corner of the tub.

"That's a good little boy," Mariko said encouragingly while

I desperately discharged my lava.

She continued to hold me like that for very long minutes, patiently

waiting for me to calm as I shook and panted away. Finally I came to

the end and the woman slowly released her grip. She had an amazing

ability to read my every need and act accordingly. I lay back

comfortably on the water and took a few seconds to relax before

starting taking care of the lady's crave, whose turn was up. But, to

my surprise, Mariko gently lifted a finger and turned it in the air,

indicating that she would need me, but only later. For the time

being, she brought her left hand to her clit and, never taking her

sight off me, worked at it for a couple of minutes before exploding

in one of the hottest masturbations I've ever witnessed.


It must have been around three or four by the time we finished our

bath and were back in bed. Sex had been fantastic and exhausting and

I would have killed for a little nap, but we wanted to eat something

first. Mariko picked up the phone and ordered a snack that didn't

take long to come. Of course she took care of bringing it in, as I

remained under the covers not to be seen by anyone. She also ate with

good appetite, and so did I, only that, at my tiny size, any scrap of

food is enough to fill me up. I thought we'd still talk a little, but

we both fell fast asleep soon after the meal.

About a couple of hours later I woke up to a somewhat darker room

and, after slowly opening my eyes and regaining my senses I saw

Mariko sitting on an armchair by the bed and looking at me intensely.

She had obviously been up for a while and had even taken a silk robe

out of her luggage which suited her great. It opened in a big cut

under the belt and you could see a beautiful, long leg sticking out

of it, leisurely swinging while she contemplated me.

"How's my little prince?" Mariko said playfully.

I sat up on the bed and looked at her.

"You are incredible," I said.

It was her turn to smile.

"So are you, little James," she responded.

"How do you feel with it?" I wanted to know.

"I feel like I don't think any woman has ever felt," was

her clear cut answer.

"Tonight's our last," I said, looking carefully at her.

"I know, sweetheart…," she sounded sad.

"Let's make it perfect!" I said, louder.

"I know it will be," she said. "You're full of


Her leg was swinging faster and I could see she was as excited as me.

I quickly thought of a course of action, knowing Mariko would be a

faithful partner. She had definitely enjoyed our little game in the

bathroom and I had an instinct it could be exploited a bit more. Her

eyes were shining, her body language showed her desire. I looked at

her intently and I felt my heart bump with vigor. Her eyes closed a

little, sharpening her sight, quickly reading my mind. There passed a

few very quiet seconds in which neither of us moved or pronounced a


"You better come here", I finally opened up.

"And who are you to tell me what to do?" my giantess smiled

willfully, picking up the gauntlet.

"Well, if you want to save yourself some trouble," I still

said from my sitting position, you have better not question me."

The gigantic woman ceremoniously uncrossed her legs and very slowly

got up to her feet. Her armchair was very close to the bed and she

came to sit next to me in a controlled, yet menacing way. When she

put her massive weight down I could feel the mattress giving way and

forming a slope toward her body. I had to hold onto the sheet with my

arms not to roll down against her huge hips.

"You, little piece of nothing, are trying to give me

orders?" she asked seriously but almost betraying a smile.

"I think it's about time we clear a few things up here."

By then I was standing on my little feet and thinking about running

away, but even the indifferent movement of her arm was faster than

any possible attempt of my part. Before I knew it, the woman was

firmly holding me in her hand. Her grip was tighter than ever before.

I realized she was completely into it, and I started to feel the

dizziness that accompanies the greatest moments of sex with a

giantess. Bringing me up to face level with her, frowning and with an

earnest expression, she asked quietly,

"Who do you think you are, little man?" and pressed a

powerful thumb against my belly.

I felt her strong pressure almost cutting my breath and tried to

answer what I had in mind, but she squeezed even more, making it

almost impossible for me to talk.

"I don't want to hear what you have to say, mister," she

said with a suggestive, sexy voice. "I want you to repeat with

me. Is that understood?"

The giantess was totally into it, there was no way back now.

I nodded affirmatively, as her increasing pressure didn't allow me to

do much else.

"Say that you are a little nothing," she commanded while

slightly easing her finger grip.

"I'm a little nothing," I heard a squeak of a voice come

out of my mouth.

"That's good, little fellow," she seemed satisfied. But

then she fired her next question,

"And what am I, little mouse," she demanded while closing

in her fingers on my tiny body again.

"You are…, you are…," I was finding it hard to speak.

"Yes, little man, what am I?" she sensually looked at me.

"You are a queen!" I shouted in glory.

But her face showed disappointment, then restrained anger.

"Wrong answer, tiny man!"

As I was still trying to guess at where Mariko might be taking all

this, she turned me down with my belly on her knee and said,

"Let me show you what I do to little naughty boys who give wrong


And, with that she began to pinch one cheek of my little bottom with

her fingers. Her movements were regular and, in principle, pleasing.

It felt like a heavy massage being administered by a big, bulky

person using two strong arms. But soon the pinching started to feel

uncomfortable and, after a minute or two, the uninterrupted kneading

of my delicate flesh turned into pain. Soon I began to wriggle in the

vice-like grip of her strong hand but there was nothing I could do. A

well of tears flowed up to my eyes and I also started to shout a

little. Kicking came soon after but her wicked massage was steadily

going on. When I felt I wouldn't be able to take it any more, she

suddenly stopped and started pinching my other cheek. First I felt

relieved, as my hot half of my tush was left alone. But soon I went

through exactly the same in the other half.

Mariko was a mistress of organized pain. Hardly opening her mouth,

let alone betraying any body stress, she quietly and steadily turned

my ass into a red battlefield. But once she finished her peculiar

massage I realized that it had been only the introduction. For she

began to slap me first slowly then more rapidly until I couldn't hold

it any more.

"Oh, Mariko, please stop, please stop, Mariko," I was

crying like a little baby, sweating copiously from bottom to top. As

her spanking wouldn't finish I found myself grabbing at her quiet leg

with my hands and digging my teeth into her skin, knowing she would

hardly feel it. Suddenly coming to a halt, brusquely turning me up

again, Mariko asked, a winning expression on her face,

"What am I?"

"You're an Empress!" I screamed trying my best, crazy with


"Wrong answer, little man," she said aloud. I felt my heart

sink, my hopes shatter. "But before I'm done with you," she

added, "let's see what slaves do for their empresses. Give me

pleasure," she ordered. And, leaning back, roughly put me on her

chest and closed her eyes.

I threw my tiny body onto her huge tits and started sucking like mad.

My entire body, small as it was, turned into a sucking, licking and

kissing machine.



Bologna is not the first name that comes to mind when talking about 1 1 'Spaghetti Sushi' 'Spaghetti Sushi' AROUND THE WORLD WITH MY LITTLE SECRET AROUND THE W




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