He had parked on the edge of the deck, so as he trudged to his car he was able to see out into the night. It was a clear, crisp evening — there wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and a the ghostly silver of a crescent moon had risen up in the east to compliment the innumerable twinkling of stars that sprinkled the heavens.
It was the kind of calm, beautiful night that anyone would have enjoyed, but Timothy was exhausted and distracted. He couldn't help but notice the sign on one of the concrete ceiling slabs that hung down as a warning to large vehicles: "Clearance 6'6." He immediately began wondering what it would be like to encounter a woman that tall, and he grew week in the knees as he walked under the sign, realizing how huge she would be standing next to him as she looked down at his small form.
For the second time that day, he felt that he just couldn't stand it — his giantess fantasy was so strong that it left him literally pining, and he uttered a little whimper as he stumbled into the side of his car. How was he going to continue on like this? He knew how the whole charade would play out: he would go home, plop himself down in his chair in front of his computer, and proceed to jerk himself off to anything new he could find on the internet that depicted larger women dominating smaller men. But he knew it wasn't enough — he knew that here wasn't enough out there to satisfy his increasing lust. He'd have to return to old content he'd masturbated to dozens, even hundreds of times. It just...it just wasn't cutting it anymore.
"If only," he said out loud to the starry night as he leaned against his car. "If only I could...I could just...get smaller." A sudden breeze kicked up behind him in the parking deck, and he became aware of the scent of something sweet...like roses...only muskier, and somehow more fragrant. The cool breeze whipped around his leaning form and danced up under his clothes and through his hair as the luscious scent filled his nostrils. He sighed out at the sky, enjoying the breeze and the smell. "If only," he murmured to himself again, "If only..."
"But you can, Timothy Springer," said a deep voluptuous voice from behind him. Timothy uttered a cry and spun around, clutching at his car from behind to keep from toppling over. What he saw shocked and amazed him. Directly behind the "Clearance 6'6" sign stood the hugest woman that he had ever seen. She was so tall that her head was completely obscured by the concrete beams of the ceiling: evidently she was a good deal taller than 6'6. Timothy could only see her from the neck down, and what he saw made his mouth go dry. The woman's body (for it was clearly a woman) was clothed in an almost see-through green and black dress that seemed to quiver about her and float this way and that on the breeze...almost as if it were the breeze itself. And her body...well, Timothy had been weak in the knees before, but now he absolutely needed the support from his car to remain standing. She was utterly bodacious — she had massive globular breasts, far bigger than any he had ever seen. For her imposing height, her waist was small, but as his eyes went down her figure, he saw that her shape widened and grew aggressively. Her hips were fearsome...they had to be at least 60 inches wide, and probably more. Although he only saw her from the front, he could see the luscious curves of her ass behind her, which did more than enough to support her sensuous bulk. Her legs were muscled and developed, yet undeniably womanly and fleshy. Timothy started hyperventilating as he beheld this startling apparition.
"Wh-wh-who...wh-who are y-you?" he managed to squeak after a few seconds.
"Who?" came the deep voice again, unmistakably womanly and full, "Or what?" With that, the figure bowed her head so that she could clear the concrete beam and took a few steps towards Timothy. Now she was standing just about five feet away from him and he could see her face. He couldn't believe his eyes. He was craning his neck up to look into the most beautiful, profound, and imposing face he had ever seen. It was perfectly proportioned...angelic. And yet there was something about it that made Timothy's heart quicken in fear. It must have been her eyes...they were deep and dark, almost black...and yet Timothy could swear that with every little motion she made, her eyes sparkled and flashed with different colors. First a dash of deep green here, then a flash of red there. But surely he was imagining that...surely he was imagining all of this. As he looked up at her face, framed by a flowing ocean of silky-straight, jet-black hair, he had only one thought: there was no way that this woman was real.
Her blood-red lips upturned into a mischievous smile, a smile that didn't exactly comfort him.
"You don't believe in me," she said, smiling down at him.
"I—I—uh..." stuttered Timothy. He was completely at a loss for words. The fact is she was right; he didn't believe in her. He must have been having some kind of hallucination brought on by overwork.
"Stand up straight," she commanded him suddenly, issuing forth a long, sharply-nailed finger and curling it upward. "So you can see me better, Timothy."
Her voice was impossible to disobey. Without thinking, Timothy did as he was told, and stood up as best he could, facing this...this giantess on shaky knees. Standing before her, he realized that he was looking directly into her breasts. Almost instinctually he glanced down at her feet to get a look at the giant heels that she was certainly wearing. The nerves on his skin buzzed and his mouth got even drier when he found that she wasn't wearing heels or shoes of any kind. She was barefoot, and her large (and proportional) feet were standing confidently, almost ethereally, upon the concrete. It was so strange; Timothy felt the force of the contrast between the grey concrete and the alabaster flesh of this giant woman who stood before him. It was almost like seeing the contrast between the artificial world of humans and nature itself. With effort he brought his eyes back up to her breasts, and he saw through the gossamer strands of her light and airy dress that her nipples were poking out erect from the middle of the large and darker-brown pigmentation of her areolas. He tried to swallow and collect himself, but his throat was bone dry.
"Well?" asked the woman, putting her hands on her hips. Her hands, just like the rest of her, were utterly huge, and just like the rest of her, were perfectly proportional to her massive frame. Timothy looked apprehensively at the sharp, blood-red nails that looked very much like claws at the ends of her fingers. Willing himself to do so, he raised his face to meet hers. She stared down her breasts at him imposingly, arching an eyebrow.
"Feel my breath, little man," she cooed down at him, and blew a gust of wind directly down her breasts and into his face, ruffling his hair and making his eyes water. That was where that sweet smell was coming from! It was...her breath.
"Does that feel real to you?" she breathed down at him. He nodded his head. "Come closer...closer," she said to him gently, but with undeniable authority. Timothy took a step closer, and then another. His face was almost right at her nipples, and all he could see looking forward were her hulking breasts.
"Feel them," she ordered. He reached up a shaking hand and touched her left breast, drawing it back suddenly like he had been burned. He didn't know why, but this woman filled him with fear; he was terrified of angering her.
"Feel them," she repeated, the authority hardening in her voice. He reached up again and felt her breast, this time lingering his hand there. They were incredibly plump and squishy, and at the same time they felt dense and substantial. He had never felt anything so perfect. In awe, he reached up his other hand and began to lose himself in kneading his fingers into their twin perfection.
"How about those, Timothy?" Her voice came from on high and snapped him out of his reverie. He took his hands away and looked up again into her face, which was still smiling down at him impishly. "They feel real enough to you?"
"Y-yeah...yeah they do," he said simply.
"Good!" she said. "Now that's out of the way, we can get right down to business."
