How it happened…

I was online yesterday, moving back and forth from working on something, to Twitter. My keen, giant eyes spotted something Giantess Tina tweeted: the image posted above. Legs. Did I ever mention to you the way I feel about male legs? Legs that look like those? Y’all have your favorite body parts. Mine are legs. Fútbol legs. Strong, shapely, perfect legs. They drive me to distraction, and I forbid it ever happens if I’m driving. I’ve walked into walls, pulverizing them because of legs.

Tina tweeted (of the little man), “Doomed to fail. Doomed to try.” I stared at him and thought, surely he’ll give it his best shot. I think he can. I do. Yes. He can. I tweeted back: “I’m not sure he’s doomed to fail. In fact, I’d bet good bitcoin his experience will be deeply rewarding.” A story was uncoiling in my mind, as fast as spilled hot oil, as quick as those scrumptious legs. Tina made mention of wanting to be told his story. I could see more and more of it, all I’ve written here. How could I say no?

Now, this is just for us ladies. The Giantesses are having tea, and talking. Little ones need to leave our presence, or else be very quiet. Interruptions will not be tolerated.

P.S. A special thank you to my dear friend Aborigen, for helping me smooth out some kinks while writing the following.


The small man could only remember running. He had been running since the beginning of time; struggling to catch up with her; straining to close the distance between them. All he had to go on was a single, delicate trail left behind by her scent. It was unique to her; impossible to confuse with any other. It coiled in the air like billowing fibers that braided themselves into a single thread, just out of reach for him. He chased that thread, nostrils flaring, catching her signature, always within range, never close enough to touch. Until now. Now, he saw her. He saw her for the first time in… forever. And for the first time in an eternity, he stopped in place, ignoring every cataclysmic step that pounded the ground around him. His chest burned with a fire that extended beyond exertion as he looked up her length, from shoes to netted stockings to dress to head to face. He wanted to weep with joy to finally be so close to her. Instead, he took off in her direction at a furious pace.


The two friends had been waiting to be seated for close to an hour. The restaurant was popular, and crowded today. People conversed around them, a few shifting away when the beepers that announced their tables were ready went off.  They waited quietly, their friendship deeper than words. They had shopped for hours, talked for hours, and now they wanted nothing but food, wine, and the rich exchange of understanding that only women with giant hearts possess.


He reached her shoe, and rounded the welt in leaps. As he reached the toe cap, he thrusted himself upon it as though getting ready to wrestle it. He began to slip off, as his glistening body was slick with sweat. He scratched and kicked himself upwards, nearly in place, until he gained some purchase. He allowed himself a fraction of a second before he continued his ascension. He crawled past the vamp, and reached the shoelaces’s eyelets, through which he slipped a couple of fingers, like hooks. It helped. Soon he had advanced all the way to the tongue, and stopped short of touching the fishnet stocking that covered an ankle with the girth of a tree trunk. His hand was trembling when he curled his fingers around a length of netting, transforming it into a rung. Far above him, a maddening screech pulsed in the air, and caused the foot he had mounted to move in a colossal arch. It dislodged him and he fell, bouncing off the side of her show before he hit the floor. He felt the owner of that foot and her companion leave his side as they walked deeper into the cauldron of chatter, to their table.


They looked around, and then, at each other.

“What are you going to get?”

“I don’t know. A salad. A stupid little salad.”

“Why don’t you order a steak for once? You need to put on some weight.”

“I know. I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”

“Have you lost any more weight?”

“Five pounds.”

“Shit. You need to go see a doctor. You really do. Do I have to make an appointment for you? Don’t pull this shit on me. You’re my best friend. If you need to take care of something… if something needs to be done-”

“I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry about me. You know what it is. This… emptiness inside. This void I’ve felt forever.”

“I thought this new guy was making you happy.”

She shrugged. “He makes me feel blood rushing through my veins, and that is all. Half the time, I’m thinking I just want him to leave so I can sleep.”

“And the other half?”

“I sit on his face for hours.”

She laughed at that. “You are incredible. But… what’s wrong with that? Is that not enough, at least for now?”

“No. It’s not. I need more. I deserve more. He’s such a dishonest asshole, darling. He does things, and he thinks I don’t know about them. He thinks I believe everything he says.”


“Men, women. We’re all like that. We have our hungers, and I’m not enough for him. I want to be enough for someone. At least for a while.”

They both looked at each other again, eyes shining with the full knowledge their bond allowed.


He ran again, as he’d been running since the inception of memory, the dawn of understanding. His eyes now the guiding instrument, as his nose had done the job of finally finding her. Again he ignored the sky crashing down around him every time giant shapes tried to dissolve his balance by dropping footsteps like bombs around him. They all went off, and he escaped every single one of them without looking. He only had eyes for her. His body regained balance over and over, dancing forward on the floor for her. He reached her shoe again, and again, he conquered it. When he reached those ropes laced together, he closed his grip hard on them, digging into his palms with infinitesimal nails. He didn’t feel pain. All he felt was the heat radiating from her ankle, then her calf, and as he climbed sideways to begin to negotiate the summit of her knee, it turned dark around him, as his ceiling was not the underside of her table. Legs that bent and stretched, arms that pulled and dragged, breath that puffed hard, pores that poured like weeping eyes. When he dropped prone on the union of her knee and her thigh, he was so overcome with passion that he sank his little teeth into an opening in the knit fabric, and he bit her. She tasted like life.



“What is it?”

“Something bit me,” she bent and lifted the tablecloth to look, not knowing what kind of bug it was, and not wanting to further irritate it, or smear its guts on her expensive stockings. “Oh, dear Goddess.”

“What? What is it?” Her friend was staring at something, and she had turned white. “Is is a spider? Do you want me to kill it?”

Her voice had turned into a whisper. “No, no. Shh. Be quiet. I want you to lift your side of the tablecloth very carefully. I want you to look at- ouch! At what’s on my thigh.”

She did as she was told. She looked. She looked. She blinked. Her breathing became frantic. She turned red, and looked at her friend. “What the hell is that? It looks like a- a- man. What kind of bug- are you OK?”

Her friend’s eyes had gained a glassy radiance. She was there, but gone. She was staring at the man who bit her over and over again, and she let him. Every time he did it, she began to gasp. Her breathing had become labored, and her parted lips formed a hungry smile.”

“Are you OK!? Answer me!”

“I’m OK. I’m fine. Listen to me. Don’t raise your voice. I don’t want him to disappear, if he’s some sort of spell. I can’t believe what I’m feeling… his bites feel like… love. Like a desperate dialect of it.”

She could only look at her, feeling disconnected from what her friend was describing. There was a miracle under the table, and they should try to understand it. Maybe speak to it. Protect it. But she took cues from her friend, and she watched.

“He’s moving… oh, dear. He’s looking at… me.” And just like that, she was lost forever. Lost in the immense sea of that tiny man’s tinier eyes. Eyes as brown as his hair, the same brown of her hair and eyes. She smiled. He smiled back, and licked the blood from his lips before he raised himself to a crawling position, and advanced once more, now on her thigh. Now on the hem of her dress. Now on her hip. Now moving to the center of her abdomen. Now scratching handfuls of fabric to make his way up her chest. She bent backwards ever so slightly, to make herself a friendlier surface. Their eyes were glued as he scaled her. Up, up, and closer to the plunging v that cut her breast line. When he set a single palm on her burning skin, she moaned loudly.

“Hey! Shh!”

He touched her again, and she moaned again, trembling visibly. Her chin had come down to point at the little man as she looked at him. The touch of his skin was the greatest pleasure she had ever known. She wanted more. She wanted it to go on forever. She wanted him for all eternity. She began to weep with hunger. A hunger that spilled from between her legs, and screamed into her brain like a drowning soul. Tears rushed down her face, and rained down her skin, reaching him. His expression showed shock. He stopped moving. Far above him, she moaned again, this time loud enough for others in the loud restaurant to hear.

She tried to look around. She really tried to feel embarrassment, but what was happening before her was too unique. Too special. She could only watch, and understand that what was happening to her friend had never happened to anyone, ever before. She would protect that.

Now between her breasts, directly over her heart, the man could no longer move. His skin had somehow become one with hers at surface level, impossible to separate. He could feel the connection becoming deeper, as each penetrated the other. He looked up at her. He felt fear. Fear, then anger. Then… he saw into her eyes. He saw pools of infinite pleasure swirling in inviting waves in there. He blinked once, and felt his mouth give birth to a smile. He wanted to swim there. His body began to respond to her exquisite agony. She had absorbed him up to his elbows and knees, and he only wanted to get closer, to show her what she had done to him. When she felt that minute hardness, she screamed, and her body shook in waves. Her eyes never left him, and his eyes never left her when he finally disappeared into her. Only then did she throw her head back, and close her eyes. Her panting began to slow down.

“What. Was. That.”

She cut into the air with a deeply ragged breath. “That- my dearest friend- that was the rest of me.”

“Say that again?”

But she never got to hear it again. The waiter, stiff and nervous looking, had returned, and was standing by their table.

“Is… ahem… everything alright here? May I take your order now?”

Her friend boomed right in. “Yes. Bring me your largest steak. My little one is absolutely ravenous.”


14 thoughts on “Unity

Add yours

  1. OMG, you used the word “vamp” referring to the top of the shoe. Outside of lexicographers and shoe industry specialists, I think maybe 50 people in the world know that world. Kudos to you. That actually turns me on considerably! LOL!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. LOL indeed not! Any lover of shoes ( and I have more pairs than I’ll ever need) knows that word, little jean. But I’m glad you got a kick out of it. It isn’t only that I love shoes, but I love shoes in connection with the constant environment of my fantasies.

      Please don’t tell anyone this, but there was a time, years ago, when I refused to buy a pair of shoes if I couldn’t picture my little guy in them, doing something that made him happy… such as cleaning, or polishing them, or simply taking a nap in the big toe print of that room-sized toe section.

      Now I don’t think about that very much, but my shoes still have an important role in the periphery of my imagined relationship with my beloved little one.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Dudes, shhhh. Seriously, they’ll hear you!

    That said… *strides confidently to the front* … this is beautiful, Squidling. I think you definitely took a little artistic licence with the guy’s ability to catch up with a much larger woman when she’s walking away from him. But as you always say, if you decide a thing can be so, then it can be so.

    I tell you, you talk with such generosity about my writing. But you have the descriptive power of… of a giantess. I only wish I could string words together as beautifully as you can.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Also that is one of the most beautiful shrunken man images I’ve ever see. They look so real, and she looks so tall, disappearing up there into the sky.

      I’ll be saving this one forever.

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Thank you, pedro. I did nothing of the kind. He’s been following her since the beginning of time. That’s how much of an early start he needed to get to her at that time, at the exact time. That particular time, it was the tiny man that decided a thing could be so, then it was so.

      Thank you, pedro. You are a true friend.


      1. I love how you manage to bend the entire space-time continuum to your will, just so you can say, “see, I was right!” :-)


  3. wow another great story from our beloved giant queen.I can’t understand how a person can write such great things but i think it is because your brain is giant compared to me. Greetings from down here to up there:)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You are only too kind, little sir. I’m glad you enjoy these words of mine. And greetings down there, from way up here.


      1. Please don’t delete your blog, my giant friend. You are a Gentle Giantess, not a cruel one and all of your us little friends want you stay here and if you kill undersquid, this makes us little people very sad. A real Gentle Giantess doesn’t make her little ones sad and you are a real Gentle Giantess lady :(


    1. Hm? The creator of the image is Binki. But both Tina and I loved it on sight. And we also follow each other on DeviantArt. I’m beginning to enjoy that place quite a bit.


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