Giantess Stories: Hell Hath No Fury part I of II  by Wordmaster    I am not like the others

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Hell Hath No Fury

part I of II

by Wordmaster

I am not like the others. I know it. My fellow prisoners know it. They

know it. I still have my memories. I still remember my life. I still have hope.

I have learned to keep my thoughts to myself, for they do not help. The others

are lifeless, dead. They have no emotions. They do not understand what has

happened to them. They have no desire to escape. I, on the other hand, want

nothing else.

It is dark here, and we are herded about like cattle. Our tormentors watch us

night and day, whips in hand. Most who arrive here have had their memories wiped

clean. Somehow, mine was intact. I remember my wife, my children, my friends. I

remember my life, the life that was stolen from me. And I remember the woman who

stole it.

It happened a few months ago. I met her in a bar. I had never even considered

cheating on my wife before, but something about this woman drove me to it. Her

dark, black hair contrasted with her alabaster skin. Her cheeks shone a dusky

rose color, her lips were full and soft. And her body... indescribable. She

looked like she belonged in a castle somewhere, not in a bar. She walked over to

me, a slow, willowy, regal walk. A smile graced her beautiful face as she

mouthed the words: "Hiya, handsome." I fell for her, hook, line, and sinker. My

head was awhirl with the look, feel, and scent of this woman. I know we chatted

in the bar for a while, and then I must have agreed to go back to her place,

because that's where I woke up. And that's where it began.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. Where was I? I shakily rose to my feet,

stumbling a bit on the soft surface I was standing on. A field of white

stretched all around me. Peering off into the distance, I could make out

familiar objects: a dresser, a television, a pile of laundry, but all on a scale

hundreds of times greater than I remembered. On my right rose a pillow,

impossibly huge. On my left, a tangled bedspread. I was naked. I was tiny. I was

being watched.

As the realization struck me, I whirled about. I stumbled backwards, stunned by

what I saw. She was naked, lying on her side, her head propped up in her hand.

Her icy blue eyes hypnotized me, chilling my blood, paralyzing me. Her body was

beautiful, young and nubile. Her full breasts rose and fell with every breath;

her dark nipples standing out against her creamy white skin. Her long legs

stretched on, seemingly for miles. One beautiful hand rested on her thigh, her

manicured fingers delicately tracing circles on her skin. She was beautiful,

like a goddess. She wore a smile, but it was not a pleasant one. It was an evil

smile, a triumphant smile. It was the smile a demon might wear after tempting

the holiest of saints into damnation.

"W... what's going on?" I stammered, though I already knew. This woman had

shrunk me. Somehow, she had reduced me down to a tiny, three inch frame. "What

are you going to do with me?"

She didn't answer, but her smile grew a tiny bit wider. Her hand slowly moved

towards her crotch. She began to finger herself, a look of lust filling her

eyes. Suddenly, wordlessly, her hand whipped towards me, still wet from her

ministrations. She let loose a clear, ringing laugh that still haunts me to this

day. I hear it echoing in my head. In my nightmares.

She did things to me that night. With me that night. Horrible, unimaginable

things. I was a plaything to her, a tidbit for her drooling cunt. I pleasured

her that night, my entire body slipping deep within her. The heat, the stifling

heat was unbearable. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't escape. I thrashed wildly to

her immense delight. Her gasps and moans of pleasure deafened me. And through it

all, she never said a word.

When she was spent, she held me in her palm and brought me to her face. Slowly,

sensuously, she licked her juices from me, her long, slick tongue probing me.

Against my will, I became erect. Seeing my excitement, she grinned and gently

brought my tiny cock to her lush, full lips. Running my member along them, the

tip of her tongue tickling the tip of my dick, she brought me to orgasm. One,

long, sweet orgasm. I cried out in pleasure, and she let out that laugh again.

Abruptly, she dropped me. I fell to the floor, landing roughly, the wind

whooshing out of my lungs. She stared at me as I tried to catch my breath, a

cold, emotionless stare. Raising her hand, a necklace dangling from her fingers,

she began to speak. The words were strange, unintelligible. The voice was deep

and guttural, inhuman. The pendant, a simple, clear crystal, began to glow a

deep red. There was a flash, and I shielded my eyes. Blinking as spots danced

and flashed before my vision, I watched in horror as the world about me grew

even larger. I was shrinking again. I dwindled, smaller and smaller, as my

surroundings expanded. By the time the shrinking stopped, I was too small to


I sensed movement and turned to see what was happening. She was rising from her

bed. She was gigantic. Thousands upon thousands of feet tall. The ground shook

with every pounding footstep she took. When she reached me, she bent, extending

her hand. It came to a rest, palm up. I nearly went mad at the sight. I was

barely as tall as the thickness of her fingernail. Hesitantly, fearing the

worst, I stepped onto the outcropping of her fingernail, painted a deep

burgundy. She rose. The wind rushed past me; I was brought to my knees by the

sudden acceleration. She walked, her every movement shaking and pounding my

frame. Finally, we reached our destination. She dumped me from her fingernail

onto the floor. Nudging me forwards, she shoved me towards a great towering

structure. There was a wide gap between the floor and the base of the structure,

and I assumed she wanted me to walk under it. I did.

Rough hands grabbed me, pulling my arms behind my back. My wrists were tied

together with thick rope as a heavy iron ring was clasped around my neck. A

length of chain ran from the ring, held by a great hulking brute. He wasn't

human. He was a huge, hairless, muscular beast whose eyes shone red. I gasped as

he pulled me forwards. I was led down a dark tunnel, lit by an occasional torch.

I stared in horror as a grim, terrible sight met my eyes. Hundreds of men were

chained together, all wearing iron collars like myself. Holding pickaxes,

shovels, and other tools, they were digging trenches. Dozens of the towering

brutes, identical to the one that held me, cracked whips and shouted orders.

Something was shoved into my hands. Numbly, I stared at the pickaxe I now held.

"Get to work," a gravelly voice ordered.

A lash across my back made up my mind. I began to swing the heavy iron tool,

carving a niche into the ground. I worked for hours, my aching muscles screaming

for relief that never came. Finally, we were allowed a break.

Huddled together in a circle, myself and a group of slaves were fed. They wolfed

through their meal and washed it down with cupfuls of stagnant water. I watched,

horrified. They behaved as though they hadn't been fed in days. I tried to start

a conversation, but was met only with blank stares and monosyllabic responses.

"What's going on here?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Who are they?" I nodded towards the brutes.

Looking over their shoulders, my companions shuddered in fear.

"Why are we doing this?"

Shrugs and looks of confusion. "They say to."

"Where are we?"


To be continued....

Giantess Stories: Hell Hath No Fury part I of II  by Wordmaster    I am not like the others

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