A Day in Giganta

A Day in Giganta

"That concludes this recording of

Ecstasy in Purple

by Adelard Cantacuzene. We at the Pania Federation of Jazz Musicians would like to thank you fo--"

Click.

A wet finger flicked the ruin-carved switch of the phonogram, shutting the music off.

Quintus stepped out of the shower, his finger flicking in a circle as a spool of mana twisted the knob shut and the shower went to a trickle and died down. He gave his neck a couple of cricks as he dried his long black hair and stepped in front of the mirror.

"Mmm, looking good there, Quint. Nothing like a hot shower and a little bit of that new jazz to set me straight." Quintus dragged his hand over the smooth surface of his brown chin--it was supple, soft, a little feminine, but with that masculine charm.

Ding...

The soft sound of a chiming bell echoed from the hallway clock before the steady tick of the second hand came along.

"Shit... It's 5! I better wake Snakes. Amé ain't gonna wait all day for me, especially if she skipped lunch today."

Quintus pressed his thick wool towel over his long, wet black hair and rushed out of the bathroom into his flat. He got to the carved wooden armoire and briefly split his focus, his eyes glowing blue as he imagined clothing flicking out from the cabinet and onto the bed.

A second later, a few hangers laden with some silk trousers, a double-breasted coat, and a tasseled blouse came flying out and landed on the bed. The hangers lifted through the air and flew back into the armoire as Quintus hurriedly slipped the outfit on.

He walked through his flat over the cool oak floors, narrowly dodging around his leather chesterfield as he made his way to the door. He reached for the handle and opened it, then shut it quickly as a hit of cool air struck his bare neck.

"Nuts! She's gonna bite my head off if I don't at least look half sane at the Blades." He stopped himself and grabbed a silk ascot from the hat rack, tied it around his neck in a cravat style, then fetched a bowler. He stopped himself again.

"Eh... naw. No hat tonight. It'd probably get lost anyway if she or one of the folks there got frisky tonight." Then he decided to toss it back on the rack.

He popped on a pair of black wingtips and made his way out the door. Warm sunlight bathed him and muddled with the cool spring air as he stepped out into the marble doorway of his apartment.

Quintus started to make his way down the steps in a hustle. They were a long spiral--a full 150 feet down--and about every 10 feet he passed a new platform leading to another marble archway like his own.

This whole set of human-sized apartments was carved into the bannisters of the larger frame of his neighbor's doorway. He was a proper arch giant, about 200 feet tall, and his door was even taller. Plenty of space for city planning to squeeze in a few dozen human and ley giant apartments in this block of the red-light district.

Quintus kept hustling till he hit the bottom step, walking out onto the massive platform that was his neighbor's archway. The floor and the door had a custom-carved pattern--a belly dancer, second grade--just like Quintus.

He made a mental note to send the neighbor a letter asking if the union had any new dances they'd come up with, but he shook his head. He was running late, and he sprinted for the carved set of human-sized stairs that ran along the middle of the massive doorway's stoop.

As he got to the townhouse's walkway, he looked out at the street: a set of high fences--one side 50 feet tall and the other only 10 feet--with rich green lawns and flower beds behind them that framed the way to the sidewalk and the bustling city street.

He started walking down the way.

"Hey Quint! Hold up, honey." Quint paused on his walk and looked up at the 50-foot-high fence to see an even taller figure behind it. She was a bodacious figure--lush caramel curves contained in a long pleated skirt and vest-and-blouse combo, with a suspiciously low-cut chest revealing an ample valley behind it.

His neighbor, Mrs. Psella, walked up to the fence, her watering can in hand as she waved down to him with a smile brighter than the sun, letting her ample chest wave to him too, as well. His cheeks reddened a bit at the sight of the 80-foot-tall lady.

"Quint, dear, it's been too long. You need to get out the house, honey!" she said, leaning on the iron-spiked fence, her hand letting go of the watering can as it floated away on a mana current and went about sprinkling the rose garden behind her.

"Hehe, fair enough, Mrs. Psella. Listen, I need to run. I'm in a rush right now, and that trolley could get here anytime."

"Oh ho, someone got a hot date this late in the afternoon? I bet it's Ms. Amédée, ain't it?" She leaned down low into that fence, her large, pretty face raising an eyebrow.

"Hehe, eh, maybe I do and maybe you're right."

"Oh, I just knew it. She's a real looker, Quinty-dear. You know I saw her on those train union ads down by the station. You're a lucky little devil, Quint--cute too." She gave him a wink, and he blushed back. Mrs. Psella's pink lips spread into a Cheshire grin at that.

"Anyway, honey, enough of me teasing. You gotta run, and I got a gift for you for your date."

"Oh really now? What's that? Something new from the university?" he asked as she reached into her pocket.

"Good guess, Quinty. Our friend Epi cooked up a little trinket. It's a sexy little number--I think she'll get her master's for this." Mrs. Psella had a tiny steel canister pinched between her fingers. She let go of it, and it floated down into Quintus's hands.

It looked like a cocktail shaker, and with a brief shake, it sounded like it was full of ice. "Uh, okay... what is it? Booze?"

"Nope, it's ice!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Epi said it's an adaptation or something from her witchcraft research--some ancient old spell or something for icy sensation play. Apparently, you pump mana into it and toss your favorite ingredients--and people--into it and make a delicious cocktail."

Quintus looked down at it, honestly surprised, and shrugged. "Okay... and how are you supposed to get someone in it?" The thing fit in his hand, after all.

"That's the best part. It and the ice are engraved. Fill it with mana--it'll grow to the right size and do the rest once everything and everyone is in there! No need to worry about the ice melting either."

"Huh, well that's convenient. Should be fun down at Green Blades," Quintus said as he tucked the cylinder into his breast pocket.

"Mmhmm. Pass it to Tassi--she'll figure it out. Anyway, you should have a date coming up, right?" Mrs. Psella asked as she laid her head into her hand and relaxed on the fence.

Quintus practically jumped at the realization and looked at his watch. "Nuts! I need to get a shine on! See you, Mrs. Psella." He started running down the walkway toward the street.

Mrs. Psella gave him a lazy wave goodbye, then gently licked her lips. "Mmm, I should really eat him up sometime--he has a cute run." She chuckled to herself and pulled the floating watering can back to her hand as she returned to her gardening.

Quintus made his way to the broad swell of the sidewalk. It was at least 75 feet tall and full of foot traffic ranging from his height to a couple hundred feet tall. It was always busy in the late afternoon in the city, and he quickly weaved his way into the sidewalk between the feet.

He moved around, gently bumping shoulders with other people his size, weaving around thighs that came up to his head, and dodging feet that ranged from his size to the size of his apartment. It was all quite the bit of activity, and it woke him--and his libido--up.

He shook his head, focusing as he got to the trolley stop. Getting aroused at his height while walking down the street was pretty common; after all, it was hard not to take a shine to someone big. He walked into the wooden doorway at the base of the trolley stop.

He stepped onto a platform carved of wood, intricate runes on it glowing as it lifted into the air, traveling through the wooden shaft. He reached the top and stepped out onto the platform. It was filled with folks from his height to three times it, and in front of that platform stood folks anywhere from 40 feet to 300 feet tall.

The street was wide--a mix of large long-distance trains ran on the mixed rails in the middle, periodically followed by hordes of carriages, each drawn by headless centaur-like statues animated with ghostly blue flames. He checked his watch and looked up at the massive flyers on the station walls, checking the schedule and new bulletins until he heard the loud chimes of the trolley bells.

The massive car pulled up--it was 400 feet tall and who knows how long, as it formed a solid wall of wood engraved with tiny runes smaller than his fingers. The doors opened up, and little platforms extended from the sides of the doorways as folks of all sizes filed out of the trolley and onto the sidewalk.

Once the flood cleared, a wooden bridge quickly extended from his platform to the opening doorway built into the trolley door's frame. He and everyone at the stop began to file in. He and the folks under 20 feet tall crossed over the walkway as the rest poured into the massive open tram door.

He walked through the trolley's mini doorway and climbed the stairwell down. It was all stairwells and corridors of fine wood, rich in the scent of oil and varnish, until he hit the lower section and exited into the seating area. It was a massive slew of seats built into the underside of the large-sized benches and chairs in the trolley. He was on his way to a set of chairs at the top of the benches in the open air of the trolley, but something caught his nose. It was earth-- a little musky and delightfully enticing. He followed the path down into the lower sections of the seating area.

Then he saw it--crowds of folks his size sitting in wooden benches, some chatting, reading papers, and others looking directly up at the rooftop wood slats. They filled the open seats beneath the dark plush cheeks of a massive woman, over 300 feet tall, sitting on the chair the seating area was built into. Her skirt-clad butt cheeks were softly pressing through the rooftop slats.

He inhaled, and a warm shiver went down his spine as he realized what the scent was. It was the smell of perfume and gentle body odor from the massive lady's posterior. It must have been laced with mana, because he felt his pants tightening as he couldn't help but stare up at the massive rooftop of cheeks as the lady idly shifted side to side atop the trolley's seating area. He shook his head and turned around, heading to the stairwell and climbing up it quickly.

He came up to the top of the giant benches and into the open air of the trolley. The light brightened up a bit as he saw the massive windows of the trolley and the dozens of giant heads sitting and standing across the trolley. He caught a glance of the giant woman sitting on the bench--he was standing right behind her head, her long silky blond hair like a wall in front of him and filling the air with the scent of her lilac shampoo.

She turned around and spotted Quintus. He was standing there, staring, and she gave him a warm smile. "Lost in thought there, Mister? Or just lost in me? Hehe." The massive woman giggled, her soft pink lips curling into a smile and filling the entire field of his vision as she chuckled. His heart skipped a beat before he rubbed a hand over his long, slicked-back hair.

"Hahaha... ah... um, sorry Miss, just got caught up I suppose. That's a really nice scent you're wearing--where'd you get your perfume from?"

"Oh, why thank you! It's just my shampoo, is all." She lifted her massive hand, raising it under her hair. It looked like a waterfall of gold in front of him, and a few strands brushed his body.

The hair felt silky to the touch--warm and heavy, like a weighted blanket dipped in lilac and her scent. "O... oh wow, Miss. That's, um... a really good shampoo. I'll have to remember it for my partner." He let out a gentle moan; that hair was pressing down heavily across his body with some direction. He could feel mana directing the strands as he looked up to the woman and saw her giving a knowing grin.

"Well, I'm glad you appreciate it. I could tell you the manufacturer... or maybe I can give it to your friend for you?" A few strands curled around his hips like a gentle band, giving a questioning squeeze into him. He gulped warmly and rubbed his hand into the silky hair. He had to control himself and ignore the stiffening erection in his pants.

"Eh hem, sorry Miss. I can just take the name. Um, maybe another time we could go together to check it out. You ride this line often, Miss?" The hair relented at his gentle rejection, and the woman smiled down at him knowingly. "Why, that sounds lovely, Mister?"

"Oh, Quintus. Quint is fine, though."

Her expression softened on him. "Mr. Quint--why, I quite like that. I would love to sometime. I take this line at the end of the week like clockwork. Let me get your info and I'll send you the name sometime." Her wrist was held up to him, the watch atop it held to the top of the bend right in front of him, easily twice his size and her hand radiating warmth over him.

He nodded and reached his own wrist out. "Why of course, Miss."

"Oh, Dia is just fine." Her watch connected to his, and a flow of mana passed between the two. The name and address popped into his mind as he smiled and returned the same to her. Her head gave a gentle turn as she lowered her wrist and the trolley came to a stop.

"Well, Mr. Quint, this is my exit. Me and my partner would love to see you again sometime soon."

She began to stand, her hand lowering and pressing gently onto the bench top next to him. It was massive--far bigger than him--and gently brushed into the side of his body, applying pressure as she stood up and made him shift into it a bit.

"You and your partner? Er, well--you have a very good day too, Miss. I'll see you around," he said, righting himself by laying his hand on the side of hers. She winked back to him with a smile and stood, her fingers lifting from the seat and waving goodbye to him. She turned around to walk away toward the trolley door, and Quintus caught a better look at the plush curve of her backside.

On the right side of her butt cheek was a much smaller woman, completely flattened--paper-thin--and blushing with an embarrassed look on her face. She was stuck to the soft curve of Dia's butt cheek, practically smushed into the cotton fabric of her skirt.

Dia's hand came down and caressed over the flattened woman's form almost lovingly. Dia's fingers squeezed into the surface of her ass, kneading the flattened woman's form into the plush surface and the fabric of her skirt. The woman on her cheek closed her eyes and let out a stifled moan.

Dia gave Quintus a look over her shoulder, a smirk on her lips as she stepped off the trolley. Quintus gave a lascivious look, biting his lower lip as his pants tightened. "Oh, her and her partner..."

The trolley finally stopped at his location. He had plopped onto a chair on the top of the bench since Dia left and was people-watching. The massive trolley, as it rolled to a stop, only had a half dozen or so people in the large seating section--a mix between 40 and 200 feet tall--all large, going about their day. Down below in the massive benches, there were hundreds of people his size and below a height of 20 feet, and a wave of them began to file out onto the miniature platform at the trolley stop.

He followed along and made his way to the sidewalk. He had finally arrived--his destination: the Green Blades Coffee and Wine House. The premier bar of the red-light district in the city of Green Blades, it was a massive edifice of stone brickwork and stained-glass windows.

"Finally, time to get on in and grab a seat. Hopefully, she hasn't gotten here first." He checked his watch--just a little before six--and he made his way toward the smaller of the three entries. They were going to meet in the smaller main bar, an establishment for people 6 to 80 feet tall--a nice, cozy little spot to feel good and intimate in.

He found the large oak doors, 80 feet tall, but with miniature doors right in the center for guests. A doorwoman about the same height as the door stooped there, full tailcoat suit and a derby hat on as she looked down and gave him a wink.

"Good to see you again, Quint. Get on in there--Tassi is on the bar tonight."

"Thanks, Bren! Hey, if you see you-know-who, tell her I got here first!" Quintus grinned up at Brenna as she opened the doors wide for him.

The bar interior opened up, and a wave of rich, sensuous scents--alcohol, sex, and music--came flooding out onto him with warm orange light.

He stepped into the bar. Rich marble and granite tile stretched from the door to the bar before him, and the place was bustling. It was Friday night, and everyone was out starting early, as usual. The crowd at Green Blades Coffee and Wine House was always an eclectic mix, he thought. He walked down the center aisle, dodging well-made shoes, heels, and waiters and prostitutes shooting back to and fro.

Everyone in the neighborhood stopped by--government managers, musicians looking for new venues to play, chefs and bakers, union tradespeople--the whole nine yards. In this part of the city, business and pleasure mingled at all hours.

He moved through, listening to the tunes in the air, and swiveled toward the stage. It was another new band--a quintet in that fresh genre that had just come about a couple hundred years ago: jazz. They were live like a wire tonight, and the lead member, a flutist, was piping out a tune in time to the rhythmic gyrations of a showgirl dancer on the stage. She was some 70 feet tall in a sequined bodysuit with a bright multicolor plumage on her hips, and she was swaying along to the music for all to see.

Quintus gave a whistle along with the crowd before heading to the bar. He passed a myriad of folks--everyone from femme to masc and all sizes--mixed up, lounging away, cavorting with their partners for the evening or getting into some lascivious activities over drinks. He spotted a coworker, a tall woman maybe 50 feet high in a fitted vest and top hat, her cigarette hanging from her painted lips as she caressed the chin of her smaller lover, a woman half her size. She was pouting in embarrassment from the public display, but a half second later she took a swig of her cocktail and reached up, grabbing her coworker's collar and dragging her down into a deep kiss.

Their friends watched on, cigarettes in hand and drinks being passed around, and he turned onto the bar. The bar was a massive thing--a mountain of hardwood, topped with marble that stood maybe 30 feet high. It was a fairly small bar, made for the smaller spaces and shorter giants, and he found a nicely carved stairwell for smaller folks like him. He stepped up it, passing through the human-scale box seats full of benches and tables packed to the brim with chattering crowds of people his size and just a tad bigger. He made his way to the countertop and spotted her.

A 60-foot-tall fox woman--her muzzle and fur a rich tawny orange, and her face a bit bookish but gentle. Her figure, though, was robust and thick in all the right places--but he would never say that to her face. He waved up as she spotted him.

"Hey Tassi! How's the weather up there, you nerd?"

Tassi grinned a toothy smile, drying a rocks glass with a cloth as she stepped up. Her bodacious figure was packed nicely into a pair of trousers and a starched white shirt beneath her tight apron as she loomed over him. She pressed the glass close into the countertop--a bit too close for comfort.