Giantess Stories: Monica XL by Chuckcjc      Part one

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Monica XL

by Chuckcjc

Part one: Divine intervention.

Monica stepped out into the sun and onto the hot desolate sidewalk. It was a

bright in the city, and the sun poked through the apertures between the tall

skyscrapers. A slight breeze made the air almost comfortable to walk, but Monica

was too much in her own world to give notice. Her thoughts were muddled with the

past weeks dramatic and painful events. It was almost too much to handle all at

once. First her breakup with her fiancee two months before their dreamy trip to

the alter. A week and three days later, her mother was mugged two blocks from

her home. She later died from the stab wounds the filthy asshole bandits had

given her as their retribution to her for recognizing one of the assailants.

That hurt Monica much more than her fated breakup with someone who supposedly

would love her forever. Its one thing that her mother had died, but to die

slowly after being brutally stabbed by those uncaring sons of bitches and then

being left to bleed to death like a slaughtered lamb - that was just too much.

Monica grieved until it hurt and then opened the flood gates to pain all over

again. She had to find those fucking cowards and give them a large dose of the

anguish she was feeling . There was no way she could let her mother's death fall

through the loose fingers of the justice system. Monica made a resolute promise

to find them, especially the one who had done the actual stabbing, and do a

little butcher surgery of her own. She composed a plan. She would dress up in

the her most alluring sexy summer dress, don her lightly bound sandals that

accentuated her soft tanned heel and painted toenails, and finish the ensemble

with a large lazy handbag complete with Colt '45, fluorescent pepper mace, and

7" sheathed carving knife. Literally dressed to kill, Monica hit the sidewalk in

front of her apartment complex and began combing the streets and alleyways in

search of a gang of soon to be sorry punks.

Her thoughts were a troubled stream of grief, angst, and rage as she walked down

the nearly vacant street stretching her long tan Latin legs out with each bouncy

stride. She was an image of deadly beauty. Daunting school boys on their way

home dared to sneak a quick glance of her long legs and flowing jet black wavy

hair. She caught a young middle schooler stealing a quick peak, and she sent him

smiling with a wink of her eye. Monica was being noticed, and that was she was

planning on. She was carefully studying the people that she encountered always

looking for the misfits, the ones that were painted in trouble. She found them

soon enough....

A young male jumped out in front of her from a wide alleyway she was passing by,

and said "Hey, hey now sweet thing! What's the hurry?" He was purposely blocking

the path in front of her. He was a white male dressed in "wigger" clothing, with

a slight bulge above his right hip where the butt of his sidearm stuck out of

the waistband of his underwear. "Hoo Hoo Cootchie cool, you are finnnne,

MmmMMMMM." He pursed his lips winked and formed his lips into a kiss for her.

"Hey listen, I am not in the mood for this, I am on my way home," Monica told

them in her best stern voice.

"Shudup sweetheart, we aren't going to rob ya, we just want some of your fine

luvin," said another male emerging from the shadows of the alleyway. Monica

turned her stare in his direction only to spot another wise-ass hood behind his


"Look guys, I'm not a prostitute, I am not in a good mood, because I am grieving

the death ... of my mother."

"Yeah you look like your grieving. Prancing around in that dress. Sure we

believe Yoooou! ...Hey girl, your mother wasn't the one we carved up last week

was it?" Before the last word had left his mouth, he lunged a step forward and

seized Monica's right wrist, pulling it away from her. Her large handbag slipped

from her shoulder and slid down to the crook of her elbow. The young thief

reached in with trained fingers and found purchase around the barrel of the

steel handgun. "Whoah whoah Ho, what's this darling? Don't think you get to use

this now, Sweet thang."

Monica's eyes widened, she had been too careless. The hood ripped the bag from

her arm as the other two deviants grabbed her from behind covering her mouth

with a seedy hand. They dragged her into the alleyway and dropped her to the

ground in front of them blocking her escape in the dead-end alleyway. Her mouth

free, she let out a flailing cry for help. But the cry dispersed into the humid

air - unheard by caring ears. The second thug belted her across the face with

the back of his studded glove, leaving two deep scratches across her pretty

features. She reeled from the blow and returned with another cry for Help. She

received a heavy blow to the back of the skull that rendered her unconscious.

Overtaken with pain, her limp body fell in a heap on the alleyway floor.

"Aint no wonder your mother put up such a fight, bitch. Its in your bitch

blood.," quoted the first hood as he rifled through Monica's purse. Finding the

7" knife and grinning. "Oh baby we is going to have some fun!" The hoods argued

over who got what from Monica's purse, while passerby's quickly turned their

eyes away form the scene in the alleyway. No one noticed the pin of blue light

that pierced the dark alley shadow and frantically traced every square inch of

Monica's frame. The beam seemed to emit from the clear blue sky and was only a

few centimeters in diameter. After it caressed every square inch of her frame

the beam dispersed just as quickly as it had appeared, unnoticed by anyone

conscious. The hoods passed Monica and withdrew to the darker portion of the

alleyway having missed the strange blue beam's visit. They were too interested

in dividing up their remarkable spoils.

When the portioning of the money weapons and trickets was completed, they

focused their attentions back to Monica's motionless frame. The blue beam had

returned from the sky only now it was much bigger and more intense than before -

nearly five inches in diameter. It criss-crossed her frame precisely at a

unbelievable rate, but never once did it pass outside of Monica's silhouette and

touch the alley floor beneath her.

"What the fuck is that man?" exclaimed the third hood. "Some kind of trick? How

is she doing that?"

They watched as Monica's body was lifted five feet off of the ground by an

unseen force. Her body was slowly rotated, and the beam continued to scan every

last square millimeter of her. She was rotated 720 degrees laterally and then

longitudinally. Her hair flowed around her head as she was rotated and every

strand was traced with impossible precision. She was then returned to her

original position parallel to the ground.

"Man what is this shit Johnny?" asked the second hood.

" I ain't figured it out yet stupid!" exclaimed the leader. The third hood just

stood there dumbfounded - his natural state of being.

The number of beams multiplied to the thousands until Monica's body, hair, and

clothing were completely drenched in the intense blue light. And then... She

grew. It was a totally unexpedted event to the thugs, only one tried to speak,

but was overcome with a loss of words. Not a lot of growth occured as first, she

grew just maybe twice her original size to about eleven feet four inches in


"Shit what the fuck is going on? That shit can't be real!" screamed Johnny, a

tinge of fear in his voice.

The number of beams was again reduced to one and now Monica was levitating about

four and a half feet above the ground. The beam split and multiplied once more

and Monica grew again, her size doubling. Before the hoods could even scream the

beam dwindled and split into millions. Again resulting in a unnatural growth

spurt. Monica was now back on the ground, around forty five feet long (head to

toe), leaving only ten more feet of freedom for the hoods to cling to in the

dead-end alleyway. Monica's sandal clad feet had reached the sidewalk and her

painted toenails could be even with a man's chest.

Johnny tried to make a mad dash around Monica's enlarge frame but became

entangled in the long wavy strands of her jet black hair. He fought like mad to

get free from the entwining strands of hair just before realizing that Monica's

tan shoulders were already blocking his escape from the alleyway. The blue light

multiplied again and hoods screamed at the top of their combined lungs in

horrible anticipation. Just as before, Monica grew again. Her giant right

shoulder pressed into the wall of the adjoining Nickel and Dime store and her

arm followed, wiping out the clearance clothing section, and effectively

snapping the main supports for that side of small store. Johnny the Hood's

broken thug body lay forgotten amongst the cement block debris and woman's

clearance clothing . Unknowingly Monica had avenged her mother's death. The few

customers shopping at the time were at first bedazzled and then overcome by the

instinct to survive - fleeing out into the streets, where they were met by

another calamity. Monica's growing feet had shoved a parked stationwagon

entirely across the street with enough energy to send it slamming into the

laundry on the other side of the street. Meanwhile three impatient drivers where

caught unawares by Monica's giant calves and collided into these eight foot tall

barriers of flesh. The heels of her sandals blocked the sidewalk on the other

side of the street, her beautiful toes pointed skyward. As the chaos on the city

block slowly rose, the beam once again converged; milliseconds later splitting

into millions, tracing her with unkown impossible precision. When Monica doubled

in size again the two remaining thugs were overtaken by the great mass of

Monica's thick hair before being ground into shapeless masses underneath her

goddess caliber scalp. Monica in her unconscious state, never felt them being

smashed. But, the petty thieves were only the first to perish....

The last expansion of the sleeping goddess tore the city blocks apart with

unforgiving force. Her beautiful feet clad in sand-tone open toed heels plow

forward as if they were three story tall bulldozers. They first leveled the

small laundry they had been resting in - almost squishing the resident owner as

he leapt out of the way of the heels. These said heels then pushed through the

back wall of the laundry, through a thin alleyway, and entered the oven section

of the local bakery. The roof separated as the arch of the sandals rudely and

uncaringly ripped into the premises of the building. Her toes rose triumphantly

above the small establishment. Her red painted toenails reflected bright hues of

the glaring sun as her big toe twitched ever so slightly. However the growth

cycle was not done. Her goddess feet continued to expand with the rest of her

now giantess body, getting wider, longer and more dangerous.

The expansion drove them violently into a three story brownhouse, sending parts

of the roof and other large sections of the building flying through the air,

crashing through the tops of adjacent apartments. Most tenants barely had time

to react, Monica was expanding at too fast of a rate. One unfortunate resident

was listening to the commotion from the first intersection, then saw the tops of

Monica's growing sandals clear the roofline of the laundry across the street

from himself. His jaw dropped he watched as one enormous sole quickly filled his

field of vision. He saw the intricate stitching around the sole edges and the

enormous off-white spot where the sandals were starting to wear through. Then

the air rushed at him like a gale of a hurricane - blowing him back. The sole

did not stop but only seemed to speed up, and its great shadow filled the

window. He clenched his teeth, his jaw locked preventing a scream and then......


The same expansion that made her long legs and sandals crush the world around

her feet, made her head another colossal threat. Her lovely head rooted with

long wavy black locks encroached upon a different block of tiny citizens. The

top of her scalp played the same function as her bulldozer-like feet. Anything

in the way was first overtaken by great strands of hair and either entangled and

dragged along, or held in place to be crushed under Monica's great weight. The

pedestrians had the worst luck, they no sooner freed themselves from the first

few initial strands of hair, before they were overtaken by five times as many

strands. At least two dozen pedestrians, three small cars, and the front axle of

a bus were taken prisoner by her long strong black locks. But as was the case at

her feet, her body was not nearly finished expanding. The top of her scalp

quickly approached the local movie theater in the middle of a mid-day matinee.

The theaters were almost filled to capacity with air-conditioned patrons. The

effects in the movie were so loud and convincing that they masked the rising

crash of chaos just a few dozen yards away in the street. The entrapped tiny

people in Monica's hair could see the makings of a major massacre as the top of

head broke into the theater, dragging a tightly bound station wagon through the

theater front's plate glass window. There was nothing they could do but scream,

the terrified driver pounded the horn several times in an last chance warning

effort. Monica's head was big enough now to bust into both of the seating areas

at once. The moviegoers were given almost no warning, the back wall behind them

flew apart throwing large sections onto the panicked crowd. Her hair then filled

the relatively small theaters and played havoc with the escape of the survivors.

Those few that could escape into the alleyway at the rear of the theater, ran

screaming as fast as they could. Looking over their shoulders, they could see

Monica's head completely dwarfing the what remained of the theater. As they ran

further away from the growing giantess, they could see her bangs and forehead

above the dangerous mass of hair.


And she laid unconscious, motionless. Her great body slowly settled into the

ground because of her unfathomable weight. The roadways were cracked, fissures

formed where the earth could not conform. Buildings were shifted and collapsed

from there once firm foundations. Her hair covered two square blocks of city

street. The strands had captured some three dozen vehicles, foreign and

domestic, entwining their axles with strength far superior to tensile steel. Her

left hand unknowingly clasped the base of an eleven story office building, the

thumb was now the sole occupant of red carpeted lobby. Another tall building,

its supports crushed by of her huge heel, rests precariously against the smooth

sole of her right sandal. Helicopters hover about the building trying to rescue

what people they could find. Five hours passed since Monica stopped growing. The

mysterious beam that seemingly came from the blue heavens did not return. The

curiosity of Monica's colossal body fueled the desire of exploration in hundreds

of sex-crazed men. They started climbing her immense person from the upper

floors of the three uneasy buildings which rested against her body. They ran

along her tanned left arm in mass to achieve the ecstasy of her soft shoulders,

magnificent towering breasts, and the firm plane of her stomach. The perverts

among the crowd continued with deeper explorations....


Monica's mind raced through vast country sides and luscious landscapes at a

furious pace, in her unconscious state it seemed as though she were flying

through the air hundreds of feet above the ground. She could see very far into

the horizon. The edges of the healthy forests appeared in fine detail, she could

see small farms and a tractor or two tilling the fertile soil. But it seemed odd

to her that she could not look at herself, as if she were somehow transparent.

Where her arms, legs, and torso should be, emanated a luminescence of soft blue

light. It was odd but at the same time comforting, she thought of the blue light

as some kind of shield which was protecting her. She pulled her arms, arched her

back and soared higher and higher above the ground until the tractors tilling

the fields appeared as tiny as shirt buttons. As she rose higher and higher, her

consciousness seemed to become to heavier. The ecstasy of flight rose higher and

higher. Soon her emotions collided and confusion flooded her senses, the sky

turned into darkening shades of deep blue... In the real world Monica's eyelids



Monica blinked her eyelids rapidly. She had been torn from the darkening dream

and was thrust into the real world of light, where the probing sun flashed its

beams into her retinas. Slowly her senses warmed up, her temples ached, she

smelt a faint waft of smoke, and her skin felt somewhat tinglely. She whispered

lightly to herself, "Oh man... what happened?" She inhaled a deep breath sucking

in more of the slightly smoke filled air. She opened her eyes slowly, giving

time for her retinas to adjust to the bright light again. Her skin still felt

tinglely, especially by her boobs. She reached up with her right hand and

brushed the cleavage between her breasts. "Hmmm...," she thought. Her skin felt

a little gritty. She wondered where she that she had gotten all dirty, it felt

as though she had been sleeping on a dirt road, she could feel what she thought

to be small stones rubbing into the small of her back.

She sat up while blinking her eyes rapidly. She opened her eyes and they finally

came into adjustment. When she saw a bunch of far away skyscrapers, she blinked

her eyes again. "I am on the roof of a skyscraper, and my legs are hanging over

the edge!," she thought alarmingly, adrenaline instantly filled into her blood

stream. She quickly moved her self backward away from what she believed to be

the edge, but the physics of the situation betrayed her, and instead of sliding

backwards she fell and landed back on the ground with an "Umph". Her eyelids

widened to their limits, and she sat back up. Something was definitely wrong.

Exasperated at what she was seeing, "What is going on here?" she exclaimed. "I

am definitely dreaming" She looked at her right foot and saw a small intricately

detailed building slide past the sole of her right sandal, and collapse into a

tiny street, a great cloud of dirt and pillowy dust rose into the air from the

rubble, but to her it looked only like a puff. She looked at her legs and

followed them to her lap. She could see centimeter high specs of color all

moving slowly across the light fabric of her summer dress. Her stomach was

covered with more of these specs, and there were twice as many covering her

chest area. She focused on her left breast and saw the tiny men for the first

time. There were hundreds of them all over her chest, torso and lap. Many of

them were tumbling from her boobs, rolling down the fabric and ending up in her

lap. She saw a faded red slick between her breasts and came to the grim

realization that she had crushed some of these tiny men when she brushed the

"grit" away a minute before. She cupped her right hand down below the cleavage

of her breasts and caught a few dozen of the tumbling little men.

Bringing them into closer focus, she could see by their fine detail, that these

were indeed tiny people of some sort, in fact some of them weren't wearing any

clothing. The men fought to move away from the edge of her colossal hand in fear

of falling to their deaths. She paid close attention to them, the ones in the

front were screaming bloody murder as they looked up into her great brown eyes.

Monica separated their numbers with a painted red fingernail of her free hand.

She concentrated on a naked man and giggled upon spotting his excited member.

She listened to their screams for a few more seconds, before lowering them down

to the ground and upturning her hand. The men that were closest to her thumb

fell nearly twenty feet as Monica upturned her palm, but she didn't notice - she

was already focusing her attention on the small streets that ran along the

length of her body. She could see streets jam packed with crowds of centimeter

high people and hundreds their tiny vehicles. The crowd was not moving very

quickly, movement slowed to a crawl around the street corners and around large

chunks of building debris. She judged that she could probably barely fit the

width of her sandals between the sidewalks of the three and a "half" lane

streets. She eyed the distance between light-poles and telephone wires on the

two sides of the street to make the rough comparison. She imagined herself

standing there with each foot planted on a different street. Monica came to the

conclusion that she was still dreaming, but this dream was ten times as wild as

the last one.

She figured that if she was dreaming, it didn't matter what she did, so she

reached out and touched the milling crowd of tiny people. They flowed around her

finger pushing the weaker ones out of the way to get by her towering digit. She

pushed her finger into the ground and it easily pulverized the pavement and dug

a deep hole into the cool ground. She marveled at the ease of this. She

carefully laid her hand on top of the milling crowd just to feel them move past

her palm, She flexed her fingers, throwing the people in front of her

fingernails backwards. She arched her palm back and slid her long beautiful

fingers among their numbers. She felt them mill between fingers but she tried to

crush as few as possible. She chased the crowd with her hand. Monica giggled at

her little game. She lifted the hand from the street and inspected her palm.

Only a few red stains were visible at the base of her fingers. She gave her self

an A-. This was one of the best dreams she had ever had!

Monica shifted her attention to the city on her right side. A small ten story

building rested against her thigh. She scooped it up in both hands, but small

portions of the building slipped between her palms. She looked among what

remained of the intricate architecture. She saw the gray stone facing with its

exquisite trimming around the roof. She looked into a small room through a

window that had been stripped of its curtains. The detailing of the furniture in

the room was amazing, even though it all lay in a heap at the back wall of the

apartment. She could make out a smashed TV, a plaid couch, and a small bed. It

almost hurt her eyes to study all of the items. She thought, "Oh well", lifted

the building high above her head, aimed carefully, and let it drop onto the busy

street. Monica didn't feel bad either, after all, it was only a dream. The

intensity of the crowds noise increased, they realized that this colossal women

didn't give a damn about them.

Monica looked about her with more care. She could see the section of the city

she was now sitting "on" continued in front of her for another what she assumed

to be a mile or so, before the big business portion of the city sprung up. She

looked at the tall towers and guessed that most of the buildings would come up

to her thighs and hips, and a few might tower up to eye level. "This is going to

be so classic!" Monica exclaimed, imagining the fun she could have walking

through the city streets, towering over thousands of oh so tiny people. Her

voice could be clearly heard in the busy streets of the big city. She looked

down at the crowds running past her long tan legs and started wiggling her

freshly manicured toes.

Monica started singing the "Macerana" song that she loved and combed her hands

roughly through her luscious black shoulder length hair. She encountered many

knots in her hair and managed to pull one out. If was a tiny crushed car, and it

resembled a yellow mustang. "Cool car, buddy, but you shouldn't have been

driving in my hair!" She exclaimed. She brushed the loose hairs from her bangs

and rubbed her face. Something was wrong as she touched her face, it stung like

hell. Monica quickly became sober. Her face was cut. Two long scratches extended

across her cheek. She touched the wound and ran her fingers down its length. The

blood had long since clotted.

Monica's mind raced for answers. They arrived in pieces. The alleyway, her

mother. The thugs, the face of the leader, Johnny, her purse and the gun hidden

inside. Her mind jumped to a slow motion replay of the thug hitting her across

the face as she wheeled back in recoil. Then darkness. She remembered the dream

in which she flew hundreds of feet above the ground. She recalled the sense of

security that the blue light surrounding her body had provided. She closed her

eyes and fought against her logical sense. Something had happened to her,

something very strange. Nothing could logically explain the giant size, or

rather, colossal size she now possessed. But the only connections were found in

the dream. Or what she perceived to be a dream. The security, the sensation of

being far above the little objects on the ground. She opened her eyes, and the

sight confirmed her rudely garnered theory. She was still secure, there was

nothing now that could possibly hurt her. And she was now so greatly above all

of the little things that once made up her life. It didn't make sense, but it

was all she had to go on for now.

She sat there for a moment and stared at the towering scrapers that where a

relative football field away. What was she going to do now? What could she do?

She was colossal, like one of the mega giants in paintings she had studied in

art history. If she were to walk, the ground would quake. Her footfalls would

sound like thunder. Thousands of people would run in fear of her, in fear of

being stepped on by one of her beautiful, but now, cruelly colossal feet. There

was no way in hell she could avoid stepping on more people. She looked down at

the streets and saw that they were almost as packed as they had been ten minutes

ago. They could never get out of the way, there was no where for them to go but

into the streets. She couldn't decide what to do. She mulled it over a little

more and then decided she would have to get out of this city as soon as

possible. Sure she had caused damage, but if she stayed she would inadvertently

cause more death and destruction than if she left. There would be losses if she

tried to leave, but she decided it was best. Monica rose to her full height and

looked about her. To her dismay the low income section of town she standing

in/on was extended for at least two miles in every direction except for straight

ahead. It looked as though the shortest path would be straight through the heart

of the city. She saw the mountainous horizon beyond the business district. She

decided to head for the mountains, the population density would be much less

there, and there she could work out some sort of plan.

Monica looked down at the milling crowds directly in front of her toes. She

addressed them directly: "Listen up little people, I don't know how or why I

became this amazing... giantess. I guess that is the proper term for myself.

But, now I want to leave this city as easily as possible. I am going to walk

this way, down this street" She pointed down the street in front of her that

lead directly into the city. I want your cooperation. But, I am not going to be

very patient." Monica's hands found positon on her hips as she looked down into

the tiny sea of faces. "I want out of this city, and I want out now. " She made

her voice more stern, "I don't want to crush... any more people, but if you are

in my way... I will, I repeat... I will, step on you." She lifted her foot in

the air above their heads, and held it there. A pang of fear rose among the

collective people. They immediately pushed and shoved each other in a desperate

attempt to get out of the way. "I will give you ten seconds between steps to get

out of the way. Then I will put my foot down, God help you all if you are still


"One, two, three...., four, five, six..., seven, eight," Monica wobbled a little

bit as she tried to hold her foot in at a constant height, "NINE....... Ten."

Monica saw that the crowd had given her just enough room to step down. But she

was forced to step down on five or six abandoned cars. She did not hesitate and

brought the foot crashing down perhaps a little harder then she need to. She

wanted to put fear into the masses so that they would cooperate, but her

footprint pushed way down into the sort earth. The impact caused thin fissures

and surface cracks to form all around the imprint. Many people fell between the

cracks, but hundreds fell to their feet from the tremendous force. Evidently she

had reached the water piping level as well. Jets of water erupted between the

cracks and underneath the arch of her heel. Monica was undaunted, she had

started this and now she must continue.

She saw the crowds were having trouble recovering from the first step, and

having even more difficulty clearing room for the next one. "... Eight,

Nine....... Ten." Monica saw there was still some people in the way, but she

wiggled her toes and brought her street width foot down again. A great shadow

quickly darkened over the unfortunate few, before they disappeared beneath

Monica's great sandaled foot. She was not playing games, she had warned them,

and now she was going to keep her word. The calamity was rising, it seemed that

the masses could not judge where she was going to place her foot next. The

length of her stride was apparently uncalculateable. She took a longer stride

this time, and it was harder to hold her foot out further from herself. Her sole

wobbled above the crowds for only a few seconds, before crashing down again. The

casualty count was increasing more with each step. When Monica reached the first

wide intersection she noticed how neatly her right foot blocked the entire thing

from lamppost to lamppost. She raised her left foot and planted it great girth

on the roof of a fifteen story building. The building gave in and her foot

leveled it to a five story pile of rubble. The debris fell amongst the screaming

crowds. Monica was quickly becoming an unpredictable goddess, her slightest

action was magnified a thousand times at street level.


As she stood with right foot effectively blocking a three lane intersection, and

her left nestled amongst a five story pile of rubble, Monica took a few seconds

to reaccess the situation. This was quickly becoming impossible. She had taken a

mere three steps and she had already panicked the crowds enough so that they

could not comply with their end of the "deal". She dared not lift her right foot

to see how many tiny citizens were crushed as she stood on the intersection. She

remembered seeing literally dozens of the tiny, centimeter tall, people staring

up at her right foot as she slowly lowered it down on them. As she looked down,

she saw hundreds of people trying to wend around the long cracks that fissured

from her deep foot print. She wiggled her toes, and the size comparision of her

toes to the teams of milling people gave her a wild rush. A much larger rush

than she got from being the center of attention working her body on the dance

floor of her favorite club. Now she was the center of attention of millions. She

really couldn't grasp the concept, not just yet.

Then she glanced at her left foot. Her sandals and toes were covered by office

building rubble all the way up to the base of her heel. The radius of the

debris, that used to be the upper floors was scattered in a wide mound

formation. She could still see thousands of spec sized pieces of what she guess

to be office paper, floating through the air. The smoke and dust from the

building's sudden demolition, rose slightly above Monica's tanned defined calf.

"Neat", Monica thought to herself. She watched for almost two minutes as the

minuscule denizens ran from her as she stood above them like a goddess. She had

to pull the hem of her summer dress back a little in order to see them in full.

It was amazing, some of them were driving through the crowds in cars and trucks,

not caring about their fellow tiny people that they were plowing into and

running over.

Monica watched one particular 4X4 truck, she noticed it because of its bright

red paint job and the fact that it was honking its horn as wildly as it drove

through the scared crowds. Monica didn't like this truck. Sure she was a

colossus (colossette?, collostra?) that was now causing wide spread havoc, but

what right did this asshole have to plow people over in an attempt to flee

destruction. Monica leaned over and reached down into the city block in front of

her left foot. She carefully reached with her long red pointer fingernail,

tracking the motion of the red 4X4. Then she moved in for the kill pressing the

tip of her fingernail onto the top of its roof. The wheels spun wildly, not

purchasing any traction, and then the roof crumpled in slightly. The words

"Squish for me asshole" boomed from high above. Then Monica's finger applied

considerably more pressure. The cab section of the truck disappeared quickly

underneath the tip of Monica's finger. She pressed the truck deep into the

pavement until only the tail-lights and rear bumper were visible above ground.

Monica was satisfied with the result. She raised her finger and searched the

area for more of the asshole drivers. Monica crushed three more trucks and a

taxi cab before she realized that she was having tremendous fun. She stood up to

her full height with her hands on her hips. Her hair was spread evenly from

shoulder to shoulder draping her upper back. She looked forward to the larger

buildings in the city ahead. She sized them up to herself. A smile pursed her

lips. There was no doubt about it, she was as big as most skyscrapers. There

were only a few that would rise above her.

She became anxious to see them up close.

But first there was a little problem. In fact there were thousands of "little"

problems. She had been standing in the same place for nearly five minutes, but

they still had not cleared a path for her. Surely they could have cleared the

streets by now, at least enough for a few steps. But no, there they were, still

teaming around all over the street in front of her right foot. It was

impossible! Could they really be that stupid? She had made it clear where she

wanted to walk, why wouldn't they clear this one street? Monica became a little

perturbed, her black eyebrows furrowed in an expression of impatience. Who did

they think she was? Was she playing some sort of game? Monica became overridden

with a flush of anger. She shifted her weight to take another grand step. She

pulled her left foot from the office building rubble, and swung it forward over

the crowd. Without hesitation she applied her pressure into the step, covering,

crushing, and burying a whole 1/4 city block of ignorant people. Monica raised

her eyes to the sky and exhaled slowly. It was tough but she had to make the

transition. She had to take the control that she had been given. Still looking

up into the sky, Monica took another step with her right foot. She listened as

the crowds beneath her feet became silent, followed by the wicked crunch of the

concrete. The people erupted into screams of terror within a ten block radius -

the goddess was on the move again. She wasn't being very nice anymore.


She stood at the gateway. A twin pair of twenty story office buildings greeted

her. They reached to her mid thigh. Monica stops for a moment cherishing the

situation. These are two buildings that earmarked her view from the poorer

sections of the city for most of her life. She admirered the intricate

architecture chiseled into the granite fronts of the twin buildings. But now,

they looked a lot different than the way she remembered them. They were once

awesome and majestic, serving as a symbolic gateway from the south section of

the greater city, but now to her they seemed small and dwarfed. She had the

irresistible urge to knee one of the buildings and watch it crumble. She wiggled

her great toes again, it was a sign that she was about to raise hell. She

positioned herself in front of the twin tower to her right. Her right foot

raised high in the air, and then stomped down in a thunderous crash. The

resulting tremor knocked most of the citizens fleeing the doomed building to

their knees. They stared up in awe at Monica. Her tremendous sandal clad feet

greeted them on either side of tower's front parking lot. A few men from the

third floor accounting department were transfixed on her painted toes. They had

to arch their necks to see the red hue shining through to the underside of her

toenails. The sole of her sandals was as thick as they were tall. Monica's right

foot had neatly buried what used to be the accounting and marketing personnel

parking lot. All that remained of the assorted sport cars, and mini vans was a

gray pillowy smoke that found passage through the tirade of cracks surrounding

Monica's footprint.

Monica's foot raised high again, causing a few remnants of flattened vehicles to

become unstuck from her sole, falling five stories to the ground, becoming even

more mangled on their impact into the earth. Monica stepped down again, placing

her feet around the base of the tall building. Her calves now rubbed against the

upper stories as she straddled it. She looked down upon the roof, and applied

slight pressure to the building with her calves. Her calves caressed the

frontice of the east and west sides of the building. An ounce more pressure

produced a grandscale restructuring of the tower's framework. The outer office's

were overcome by the force of Monica's toned calves and began crumbling into a

landslide of rubble. The wreckage of cinder and plaster began to accumulate as

it fell away from the sides of the building. Monica slowly moved her hips from

side to side in a slow rhythm. She watched as large cracks traversed the sides

of the building as she swayed. The thought that she was easily crushing this

landmark building between her own calves made her giggle. It was too good to be

real. But each little detail confirmed her belief that all of this was real -

the little cars and trucks, the people, and their frightened screams of terror

as she strode down their tiny streets, all depicted down to the most minute

detail. The numbers on minuscule license plates, logos on tiny tee shirts, the

disipant sound quality of the terror rising from the streets, and finely

crumbled concrete - all served as evidence that this experience was beyond her

wildest dreams. As she thought about all of it, the gentle sway of her hips

evolved into a slow dance. The infrastructure yielded and the upper third of the

building crumbled and fell. Monica watched as the resulting dust cloud rose

above her knees and blocked most of the view of her feet. For a second she felt

as though she were above the clouds, but she quickly brushed that thought away;

that would be just too big. She felt tall enough already.

Having made short work of one of the twin towers, Monica proceeded to the other.

She planted her foot on the roadway as she crossed it, mindless of the two dozen

unlucky citizens she cruely crushed underneath her beautiful right sole. Monica

had become infatuated with her feet in comparison to the things she placed them

next to and on top of. She slowly moved her left foot over another small parking

lot and buried the cars and screaming victims under the sole of her sandal.

There was a dozen small explosions as many of the cars erupted from the impact

under the mountain of Monica's weight. But to Monica, the explosions were tiny

pops as if they were coming from small firecrackers. Monica straddled the

remaining twin tower, and her sexy shadow enveloped it. She peered down at the

roof, not focusing on the multitudes of people fleeing the doomed building from

the ground floor, and even some from the second and third floor windows. She

raised her raised her right foot as high as she could, but couldn't easily rest

it square on the roof of the building. Monica frowned, she wanted to stomp this

building flat, just like a few of the smaller ones. Monica removed her foot,

which was resting against one side of the roof, causing most of the roof

trimming and gutter work to break off from the building and plummet to the

ground. Monica gazed again at the roof of the building until her eyes glazed

over, the look was quite frightening to the hundreds of people running around at

street level. Monica raised her right hand up to her face and examined her long

fingers and then studied her back hand, even admiring her own long red

fingernails. Monica observed the roof again and placed one pointed finger on top

of the roof. Already the tiniest amount of her pressure had caved in the section

of roofing under the weight of her mighty fingernail. Monica pushed slowly, her

finger pressed down into the building, followed by her knuckles. The top four

floors of the building twisted and pushed outwards as the mass of Monica's right

hand pushed the office structure out of the way. Monica felt a little bit of

resistance as she reached each floor, but it took almost no effort to break the

lattice structure of each ceiling.

When Monica was into the building upto her elbow, she had to lean over slightly

to adjust to the akward position. Her heavy breasts rested against what was left

of the upper side of the building and as they pressed down did more damage than

Monica's hand. The top three stories of the building quickly crushed under the

weight of Monica's right breast, the mass of rubble rained down onto the

sidewalk below. Monica felt as though she were pushing through a building

constructed out of thin wafers of styrofoam, except the styrofoam was slightly

gritty, like sand. There was a multitude of tiny articles that Monica

encountered, but it was neigh impossible to tell what they actually were. Monica

was curious, and stopped at one particular floor to do some investigation. Of

course her fingers were much bigger than any one floor, but she tried to pay

attention to the objects of the target floor without breaking through the floor

and entering the story below it. She did her best, but there was so much debris

as she moved her fingers laterally inside the structure. Mostly what she could

feel were large sections of flooring from any one of the above floors she had

already pushed through. She was so into her little game of search , that she

ignored rising clamouring of thousands of tiny people watching her every move.

But, trying to be more careful she let her fingers do the walking, and suddenly

she could swear she could feel a tiny desk, and moving back just a little bit -

she could feel a tiny couch It had that smooth familiar vinyl covering and it

was just big enough to get her finger stuck to it. Excited, Monica pulled her

find out of the structure as carefully as she could to get a closer look at it.

There it was on the top of her middle finger, a brown vinyl three seat couch.

The bottom was busted because Monica had already put to much pressure down into

it. But it was cool to see such tiny office furniture. Monica came back to her

senses and flicked the tiny couch off of her middle finger and sent it flying

for a few blocks before it fell into the street.

The detail of everything was still impressing the hell out of Monica. She looked

back down and gathered that there was just a few more floors to go before she

reached ground level. She put her hand back into the tunnel she had made and

pressed on. She stopped when her fingers became wet, she had reached the

sub-basement swimming pool. Monica smiled. This was just too cool. She traced

the perimeter of the pool with her finger. It was only about the size of a

matchbox. Monica looked down at her right breast, which was pressed

devastatingly into the office structure, because of her akward position

crouching next to the building. Monica observed how much damage her breast alone

had done. She pulled back a little bit and saw the smooth depression where her

breast had been. Monica pulled her arm back out of the office building, and

marveled her unintentional breast demolition. Before she knew what she was

doing, Monica was on her hands and knees in position to level the upper building

with her breasts. Her knees where even with the base of the building. She

hunckered back on her heels and waited for a second. Then she swung forward,

transferring her weight to her hands. Her colossal breasts both plowed into the

side of the building and Monica only had to pull a little bit to get them to

topple what remained to the top five stories of the building. She re-shifted her

position, so that her breasts where directly above the pitiful office building.

She came down as if she where doing a pushup. The building pressed into her

bodice, and at first Monica didn't think she could crush it. But then it came,

the framework gave in, and Monica's breasts came crashing down through level

after level of office heaven. The debris formation resembled the other buildings

Monica had already leveled, except this one had two craters on top of the rubble

heap, showing to all the tremendous damage Monica could do with her beautiful

breasts. Monica completed the push up, leaving only five stories standing in any

sort of recognizable fashion. "One", Monica said, as she reached the straight

armed position. She bent her elbows and came down for the second monstrous push

up. Her breasts came down and met the structure, and now Monica had enough

leverage to demolish the remaining five stories with no trouble at all. Monica

reached the ground and her breasts pressed short craters beneath her. She let

the force go out of her arms and stayed there at ground level looking at the

hundreds of pieces of office equipment her playing had displaced. Monica

chuckled to herself. She really loved this. She was thrilled in causing such

massive destruction and not having to pay the consequences for her actions. Soon

the rising cloud of dust became irritating to Monica and she rose up to her

knees, and then to her full height.


Monica wanted to see some more of the action at street level. So she took a few

steps out into the streets again. The streets under her goddess feet where not

so busy now, because the people had a chance to run why she was playing wrecking

ball with her boobs. Monica strode like a giantess should, with long lazy

strides, paying no heed where her feet landed; whether it be in a large

semi-abandoned car pile up, or in the midst of a teeming crowd of screaming

people. Monica walked eight blocks, before deciding to give a damn and look to

see where she was. She was at one of the major intersections of the city, a

meeting of five roads. The scene at her feet level was a mess. There must have

been close to fifty cars in this intersection, many where twisted and banged up.

A few where on fire and she hadn't even been here yet. Obviously the city folk

didn't know which way to go to escape Monica the Colossal woman, who was quickly

becoming Monica the Colossal Bitch. Monica gave a glance behind her at her

heels, she saw scores of people there, and quite a few faces could be seen

looking up the length of her incredible legs. She said "Look Out!" and slowly

sat down dramatically as if she were dipping her fanny into a hot bath. Throngs

of people were snuffed out where they stood gawking at the site of her mighty

ass descending down on top of them.

But those that remained were treated to the grandest of views as the giantess

Monica's vast body stretched up and beyond all they could see as she sat in the

city. Her enormous figure belittled everything, her long hair reached street

level as she sat and enjoyed the view. The city was alive, vigorous and

unbounded as she looked at the surroundings of her lap. She rested Indian style

with her long beautiful tanned legs folded elegantly. Her lap easily covered

more than a two city blocks as she rested there. And all around, thousands ran

in chaotic fashion, not knowing where to run for safety from Monica's vast

reach. She stretched out and picked up a hand full of screaming city dwellers.

Being careful not to crush too many as she picked them up and lifted them. It

was still amazing to her how small these humans were, considering that she was

just as small as they were just a short while before. She looked at them,

writhing in her hand, she guessed that she was holding about fifteen or twenty

people in her hand. Most were bunched up and clinging to each other as they

gazed up at Monica's goddess face. She peered down at them with great eyes full

of wonder and amazement. "These are normal everyday people," she thought. "I can

see all types of people right there in the palm of my right hand, businessmen,

clerks, all types of people. Hmm what is this?" Monica noticed three gang

members standing near the base of her pointer finger flipping the bird up at

Monica, and jumping up in down yelling what she guessed was profanity. She

smiled, and peered only at these three gang members. They looked pretty mean,

for little centimeter tall gang thugs, with their baggy clothes, bandannas, and

shaved hair. One of them pulled out a switch blade and started stabbing Monica's

palm. She watched as it didn't even pierce her skin. It felt like the someone

was lightly pressing her skin with the tip of a needle. She felt it but it

didn't even hurt at all. Monica let him do his best to stab her, but then she

grew tired of his sport. She reached in and pinched with her thumb and pointer

finger of her left hand. She managed to grab all three thugs between her two

fingers. All she saw was arms and legs as they struggled against her mighty

pinching grip. She put the rest of the crowd down carefully on the roof of a six

story building next to her right knee, she didn't want to crush them, not at the

moment anyways.

She placed the three gang members in her right hand again. They screamed like

murder until they were back in her palm, and then they started acting up again.

Monica pointed her finger above the one on the right. She couldn't see him

beneath her long 'fuck me' red finger nail. With no remorse, Monica pressed

down, her palm indented and her mighty finger squished her little pest into

puree. She focused on the next one and pulled her finger back. She released,

with a quick motion flicked the next thug off her palm with an amazing force. He

splattered at the impact but what remained of him flew for nearly four blocks

before smashing into the side of an office building. One more left, the one who

had stabbed her palm. Monica mulled the situation. She addressed him, the city

listened "So how does it feel to be so small and insignificant? What does it

feel like to look up at me? " The thug blurted out a string of vulgarities,

which Monica could easily decipher by his body language. She didn't like it. "Of

course you know I am going to kill you, you little bastard, but first let me

tell you something you might not know," the goddess addressed the tiny unworthy

bug on her palm. "You see me? I was like you, like all of you, I lived in this

city. Maybe we passed each other once, on the street, in a club, or maybe at the

supermarket." She paused for a sec, "But you know what? I was always afraid of

unpredictable bastards like yourself and your posse, the gangstas, the

gangmembers. You whistled at me as I walked by, and pawed at me in dark

alleyways. You know what? I don't like to be pawed or clawed at by scum. I hate

you." Monica spit on the diminutive man in her palm for emphasis. "It was those

like you that killed my mother, and gave me this scar." She traced the fresh cut

on her cheek, with her fingertips. "But now look at you. How tough are you now?

You can't even break my skin! Your are suuuuuch a Bad Ass, aren't you?' Monica's

tone was very serious now, she didn't just look down at the thug, she glared

down at him. Her fingers started to curl closing in on him slowly as she spoke.

The shadows of her fingertips, covered over him. For the first time, he started

to scream in terror. "Well now.... by some strange twist of fate.... I am a

GODDESS!" Monica's face was directly above her hand, the hair hung down around

her almost closed palm. The finger's closed their prison around the thug, and

she felt him pounding against her fist in fear. "I am not just a goddess my

little insect, I am an avenging goddess, a woman of enormous power. I am quite

confident that the world will not be the same now that I am here to play. From

this moment on, I do not give pity to the scum of the earth. I will be the judge

of all mankind, and my sentence will be extreme. Die tough guy." With this

Monica closed her finger into a tight fist. A snapping noise could be heard as

she applied enormous pressure to her fist.

Monica was all fired up with a passion for domination. She came out of the

Indian sitting position, and removed her sandals one by one. She put the sandals

side by side blocking two streets with their enormous size. She admired her bare

feet. Her toes were painted wonderfully, she felt she had very presentable feet

and had always paid special attention to the manicure and decoration of her

toenails. She wiggled her toes playfully. Monica rose to her feet and for the

first time directly felt the soft ground break under the weight of herself. The

feeling of making the ground give under her feet was invigorating. Feeling very

good about herself, Monica began walking again. She took long carefree strides

as she strode down the tiny street. The world was at her feet.


Monica enjoyed the feeling as she walked down the tiny roadways, each of her

bare feet blocking the streets below from sidewalk to sidewalk. Sometimes, if

the passageway beneath her was too full of fleeing people, she would step over

the low buildings and cross to the parallel street. It was a wonderful image of

Monica's foot descending as she stepped into the next fareway. Her foot came

down so fast that the impact was tremendously violent to the small street way.

The ground crumbled easily around the perimeter of her foot, sending chunks of

asphalt flying, and breaking shallow fissures that permeated the brittle street

for a many yards like the branches on a young tree.


Monica passed the next tall building that was nearly her height, and then... she

saw it - a blue suspension bridge extending across the calm ocean bay. It was

strange looking down at it from nearly 3/4 of a mile away, but Monica was slowly

becoming accustom to her new frame of reference. Monica looked and she could see

little specs of color moving along the bridge roadway, and it excited her, all

of the traffic looked to be headed one way - away from town, away from her.

Well, Monica couldn't let that happen, this was here town now, and she hadn't

given these tiny bridge-farers permission to leave just yet. She decided to go

over to the bridge and say 'Hi'. Monica strode majestically to the span. The

road broke under each eager step. Monica was a woman on a mission, or rather, a

colossal goddess on a power trip. She strode block after block, her lovely bare

feet blocking and demolishing the narrow streets and rendering the passage way

impassable. At intersections she put extra emphasis into her step, relishing the

massive destruction just one of her feet could cause as it covered nearly two

dozen people, impacting them and a few of their cars deep into the seemingly

soft asphalt. All of the people in her path were overcome with tremendous fear

as Monica's relentless strides brought her colossal being quickly over them.

And then she stepped on the dockyard, covering two docks, a yacht and a boat

house with her lovely right foot, before taking her first step into the bay with

her left. To her it was like a step into a shallow puddle. She could see the

cars on the bridge swerve and vear as the tiny drivers sensed her approach. It

was impossible not to notice a 700 foot tall, beautifully tanned Latin woman

stepping towards you as you are stuck in a traffic jam on a suspension bridge.

You first panic, you feel claustrophobic. There is no where to go and the danger

is approaching quickly. She takes another step towards you and everyone on the

bridge with you. Good God she is beautiful as she takes another stride, her long

leg tightens revealing her shapely muscles. You follow her awesome thighs up and

around to her slender hips, revealing a hint of her tight ass. The moment is so

unreal, but at the same time euphoric. Another step reveals a more accurate

sense of her actual size. She is impossibly huge, she is still nearly three

hundred yards away, but still her upper body wells up above you like a great

curvy wall of sensuality. Her calves and thighs seem out of proportion with the

rest of her body, each of her legs could be an office building because of their

girth alone. But, these two tanned 'buildings' of flesh and muscle join far

above you meeting at the sensual mound of her pussy which seems to point down at

you, mockingly. It alone is eight or nine times as long as you are tall. And

still above this you admire the slow sway her long arms. Her left hand sways in

front of her and passes over all of your heads. She stops there and looks down,

and you are still looking up. You see her pretty face framed in a delightful way

between her generous breasts, and the her long black mane of hair which flows

down past them. You think you can make out a scar on her face, but it is out of

place with all of her pretty features. She rests her hands on her hips as she

continues to look down at you and all of your comrades on the bridge. It seems

as though everyone is doing the same as you. There is no where to run away from

this Latin goddess. As she stands above all of you, the ultimate vision of

dominance, you all realize that she owns each and every person. You realize that

size does matter, especially when someone is 100 times larger than everyone

else. And the question is, what is she thinking as she looks down at all of you?

And more important, what will she do?

Monica reached down and grabbed a handful of cables. She pulled up on the cables

and a fifty meter section of the bridge suddenly tilted ninety degrees. Twenty

or so cars were sent tumbling into the bay. "You people thought you could leave

my town without saying goodbye, didn't you?" Monica address her audience. She

grabbed another handful of cables on the opposite side of the bridge and lifted

it so that the upturned section was again even. A few cables strained audibly

from the enormous tension. "Well I am disappointed in all of you, don't you want

to play with me?" She lifted the bridge section up to the level of her crotch.

Monica relished in the sensation of holding hundreds of lives at check. "Don't

be shy everyone, You don't have to be afraid of a big girl like me. Let's have

some fun!" Uttering these words in her sexy thunder voice, Monica lifted the two

handfuls of cables higher up to her breast level. The force was too much and a

dozen or so cables broke in unison, the bridge roared a terrible screech of

pulled metal, and small sections of the bridge roadway tore and ripped, spilling

vehicles and people into the bay. The various cars and trucks plunked into the

sea making cute little splashes from Monica's vantage point. Monica arched her

back a little and rested the bridge on her stomach so she could reposition her

hands to grab a longer section of the bridge. Then Monica held roughly three

quarters of the span between two fistfuls of cables. Pulling the cables taught,

Monica was easily able to straighten the middle portion out so that the sagging

Giantess Stories: Monica XL by Chuckcjc      Part one

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