Daily Grind

Posted on August 6, 2017 in GTS Fiction by

A giantess goes to work. Warning: for mature readers only.

Traveling through the portal was always quite an experience: my skin simultaneously burned and froze, and the insane whirlwind of colors defied all human comprehension. My body wanted to collapse, to faint, but I just gritted my teeth and focused my mind elsewhere. I had been using the portals for years, and I knew how to handle this. Unfortunately, not everyone else did. A new employee had recently passed out while in the portal, and oh man, Carl had chewed that guy out. Alex, I think his name was. Or maybe Derek. I could never remember names, which is why I usually wrote my clients’ names on my forearm. “Frank Warner” was scrawled on my skin in black ink so that I didn’t embarrass myself and call him the wrong thing.

The portal brought me to the downtown area, and it took me a few seconds to regain my bearings. I saw a cloudless blue sky first; then I noticed all of the miniature buildings surrounding me, as if I had been dropped onto a model railroad set. Most other people would have marveled at the highly-detailed structures, the little cars slowly inching along the streets. But I had been an employee for Rampage, Inc. for several years, and honestly, the whole tiny city thing had lost its charm. This was just another job, and when I was done with it, I wouldn’t even remember much about the city that I had just trashed.

Taking a deep breath, I sat up and glanced around. I had landed on a hotel, and most of the building had caved in beneath my weight. Powdery debris speckled my skin, drywall and wood and even the broken remains of furniture. I flicked away the remnants of a queen-sized bed from my bicep and then stood up, the hotel imploding behind me.

There were a crowd of people gawking up at me. This wasn’t all that surprising; there were usually awe-struck bystanders. I mean, how often did a five-hundred foot tall giantess crash into their lives? I smiled at them, waving as I fixed my skirt. The client had picked out a very specific outfit, a gray skirt and maroon cashmere sweater and tall boots. To be honest, I was relieved that he had gone with a somewhat normal outfit. Usually, clients wanted me to run around in a bikini or hot pants. One customer wanted a Mrs. Claus outfit, although I didn’t like to linger on that memory.

“Hello, everyone,” I said, and almost everyone stopped taking photos and winced at the volume of my voice. “I’m here from Rampage, Inc., and I’ll try to keep the damage to a minimum. Or not. This should only take about two hours.”

The hordes of bug-sized people stared at me intently.

“Oh, and remember, you can schedule your own customized rampage online!” I hated that line, but Carl insisted that we say it before any rampage. One time I purposely didn’t say it, and somehow he found out, and god, I got an earful. So I said that stupid line, and with that out of the way, I started down the street. The tiny people who didn’t dodge my thundering boots were squashed instantly, reduced to pulpy red jelly in my footprints.

The first few times that I had rampaged, I had taken my time, savored the crunching of little bones beneath my feet. Now I was just worried about finishing this job in enough time to make it to my pilates class. I left behind a trail of gory footprints, and at one point, I stepped on a city bus, glass and metal spraying outward in a deadly shower of shrapnel. I’m sure that it was very horrifying and life-altering for the people swarming down below. But as mentioned, I was trying to make sure that I kept an eye on the time.

I came to an intersection and kicked a few vehicles out of the way, sending them careening through a nearby restaurant. I looked left, then right. What had the directions said? Of course I couldn’t remember, which was annoying. I chose left, marching toward one of the shorter condo buildings. This street was narrower, and my hips and shoulders smashed windows and ripped the stone facade from several skyscrapers. At one point I had to bash my way through a knee-high building, masonry and bodies flung everywhere.

Aha, there it was. Several people were gathered on top of the condo building, too frightened or shocked to run for their lives. My gargantuan shadow fell over them as I placed my hands on my hips, sneering down at them. Part of being a successful giant or giantess was having a terrifying presence. That Alex (Derek?) guy had made the mistake of running away sobbing when some tiny women made fun of him. I’m fairly certain that’s why he’s no longer with Rampage, inc.

One or two people took photos while I towered over them. They’d probably end up on Instagram or Twitter or Facebook, and I just hoped that they were getting my good side. I was about to taunt them, call them insects and everything, when I noticed that the client wasn’t among them.

“Wrong building, sorry,” I said, placing my hands on one side of the structure and pushing hard. With a loud groan, the building tipped over, colliding with several of its neighbors. Dusting off my hands, I turned around and scanned the other condos.

“I’m looking for, uh…” I quickly snuck a peek at the name on my arm. “Frank Warner.”

None of the panicking people offered any help. Luckily, I spotted the client on a balcony. It looked like he had just come home from the office because he was still dressed in the kind of insanely expensive suit that CEOs wore. As I bent down toward him, he backed away nervously.

“Hi, Frank! I’m Marie from Rampage, Inc, and I’m here to make all of your dreams come true!” I told the tiny man. He wasn’t unattractive, but the fear had contorted his minuscule features. I was used to customers being afraid; they often didn’t realize how overwhelming a giant person could actually be. As I tried to smile reassuringly at him, Frank said something. I had to lean even closer to hear him, turning my right ear in his direction.

“I’ve changed my mind!” He yelled up at me.

I frowned. “I’m afraid that you can’t do that, Mr. Warner. You signed a contract and everything.”

Hand shaking, he tried to push back his thinning hair. This was a man who was evidently accustomed to negotiating. “Look, I’ll contact your supervisor and tell them that they can keep the money.”

“Sorry, it doesn’t work that way,” I said, still smiling.

Frank seemed torn between anger and terror, and he didn’t say anything until I gently plucked him from the balcony. The wail that he made was shrill and almost funny. I stood up and put him into the small carrier that hung from around my neck like a gaudy necklace. It was transparent and allowed the customer to see all of the destruction and blood-drenched chaos up close. There was even a state-of-the-art sound system that could drown out the screams if they became too much.

“Comfy?” I asked.


“Good.” I took off through Frank’s neighborhood, demolishing everything in my path. In a way, I had become jaded when it came to my job. Being big had lost a lot of its excitement, although I still loved the sensation of buildings crumbling against my body. The most magnificent works of mankind, reduced to rubble so effortlessly. Nothing could stand in my way, not even thousands of tons of steel and concrete. The thought of it still made my heart race a little.

“So what do you want to see first?” My question went unanswered; Frank continued to howl within the carrier.

“Okay, I’ll improvise,” I said, my eyes searching the area. I hunted for the tallest building, which happened to be a sixty-story skyscraper with a black mirrored exterior. Oh, yeah, that was perfect. I could imagine all of the office workers in there, watching with horror as I approached. Smiling, I sauntered toward the building. In his carrier, Frank had become too hoarse to shriek anymore. Or he was staring down at the ground far below, petrified. Either way, I was relieved that he had finally shut up.

I strode up to the tall skyscraper, flattening most of the cars in the parking lot. My reflection greeted me in the dozens of windows, and I made a mental note to get my hair trimmed again soon. I also decided that strawberry blonde wasn’t really working for me. Maybe I’d try dying my hair red next time.

I tapped at the carrier with one finger. “You’ll want to watch this, Mr. Warner.”

“Put me down! I swear to Christ, I’ll sue you and—,”

Ignoring his threats, I made a fist and punched through the reflective exterior of the skyscraper. The sharp shards of glass and twisted fragments of metal didn’t hurt much. Along with making me gigantic, my trip through the portal had rendered me almost invincible. A lot of people would have taken the opportunity to use their near-godlike power to conquer the world. But one guy had tried it a few years ago and Rampage, Inc. hadn’t taken it well. I heard that his funeral was closed-casket.

My hand struck the inner walls of the building, and I began to probe around inside. Despite my size, I could still feel things like elevators, desks, filing cabinets. And people, their bodies soft and fragile beneath my fingertips. I dragged out several of them, along with a handful of detritus. Sifting through the chunks of debris, I selected a young woman with short hair and glasses.

She whimpered. She begged. She cried. She tried everything that she could to escape her predicament, but her efforts were useless. I popped her into my mouth, tasting her perfume and deodorant and fear sweat. People were an acquired taste. The first time I had put someone into my mouth, I had spat him all over the side of a building. Over time, I grew accustomed to the flavor, and I have to admit, I found the desperate squirming in my mouth to be entertaining.

The tiny woman with the glasses was certainly squirming, wrestling with my tongue like it was some sort of huge monster. I took my time, letting her think that she could wiggle free of my mouth; then I swallowed her with one powerful gulp. Now, most people would have thought that swallowing someone alive was easy. But victims fought with every last ounce of strength, and one of my coworkers had almost choked on a tiny person at the annual company picnic. It was a good thing that I had known how to perform the Heimlich maneuver.

So yeah, it took practice and skill to not die along with the tiny person.

The other people in my hand saw as I ate their companion, and they immediately panicked. One man tried to run, but he lost his balance and tumbled from my palm. I hunted around for him, expecting to see his body splattered all over the sidewalk below. Somehow he had managed to land in the valley between my breasts, and he hung onto my sweater for dear life.

I didn’t have time to torment him, so I nudged him until he fell and then I turned my attention back to the others.

“Don’t do this!” One man shrieked. “We’re people, we have families!”

All that I heard was “Blah, blah, blah.” I was just doing my job, so I didn’t feel remorseful. Did landscapers feel bad about cutting grass? Did butchers feel bad slaughtering animals? Of course not. Besides, Rampage, Inc. had compensated this city well, so they couldn’t complain.

Lifting the minuscule people up to my lips, I tilted my hand so that they rolled into my mouth. They joined the woman with the glasses in my stomach, and I felt their feeble movements as the acids and enzymes dissolved their flesh.

I snuck a glance at my watch, happy to see that I was making good time. Maybe I’d even have time to stop by the store, pick up a gift for my cousin’s birthday. I was contemplating what to buy her when Frank began to make noises again in the carrier. I brought him up to eye level, peering in at him.

“So what do you think? Is it everything that you were hoping for?” I asked.

His cheeks were the color of ripe apples and his head almost vibrated from rage. “This is awful! I didn’t pay for this! Put me down, you big bitch!”

I spoke over him. “I’m glad that you’re enjoying it, Mr. Warner. Wait until you see the next part.”

He looked like he was on the verge of tears as I lowered him back down.

A newscopter followed me as I strolled through the outskirts of the city, recording me as I kicked over buildings and turned people into unrecognizable streaks. Carl always told us not to kill the news crews, since they provided free publicity for Rampage, Inc. This newscopter was irritating, however, and I had to resist the urge to swat it from the sky as it swooped down toward my face. I stopped plowing through neighborhoods and glared at the little helicopter. When it darted toward my cheek again, I lifted my hand abruptly. The reporters inside probably thought that I was going to smack them, and I’m sure that they received the scare of their lives.

I didn’t hit them, just waved like I was a contestant in a beauty contest. But my smile was far from warm. They took the hint and backed off, keeping a safe distance. I didn’t doubt that my rampage would end up on the evening news. When I had first started at the company, I had watched the post-rampage footage with rapt attention. Now I watched for a minute or two, silently critiquing myself, and then I’d return to my favorite shows.

With the cameras watching, I had to do something sexy. Besides, I was running low on time, and the customer had specified that he wanted some “erotic mayhem” (his words, not mine). So I found a long line of vehicles, people trying to flee from the devastation, and marched toward them.

Several people saw me approaching and hopped out of their cars. Others tried to maneuver their vehicles around, but the traffic congestion was too thick and most of them ended up crashing into one another. One white SUV drove into a telephone pole, and as the other cars swerved to avoid it, I bent down.

I picked up the small SUV in one hand and peeked in through the tinted windows. Three shocked faces stared back at me. One of the women had been babbling on her cell phone, but she dropped it into her lap as soon as my eyes focused on her.

“You’ll do nicely,” I said, and they flinched as if my words had physical force. I sat down, flattening anything unfortunate enough to be under my buttocks, and pulled up my skirt with my free hand. The SUV driver must have figured out what was going on as I guided them down toward my black satin panties because he began to honk frantically. I giggled and tipped the SUV upside down, which got him to stop immediately.

With two fingers, I yanked open my panties and ran the vehicle over my pubic mound. The minute tires tickled, and the undercarriage of the SUV was still hot enough to cause a pleasant sensation against my skin. My closely-shaven pubic hair scraped across the vehicle; through the windows, the driver and passengers began to scream.

I placed the SUV onto the crotch of my panties and readjusted them. The vehicle pressed up against my labia, wedged between the satiny fabric and my flesh. Within the SUV, the occupants were trapped in humid darkness, my vaginal fluids dripping down the windshield in a thick, clear deluge. Every movement of my body was a horrifying experience to them.

“Hey, Mr. Warner, what did you think of that?” I asked the tiny man in the carrier. Once again, he refused to answer, and it was becoming exasperating. I took off the carrier, dropped Frank onto my open palm.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “You pay millions of dollars to see your dream come true, and you decide that you don’t want it anymore?”

“I didn’t think that it’d be like this,” Frank croaked out. “This…this is horrible.”

I shrugged. “Sorry about that. I can let you explore my body or something else.”

Frank looked like a cornered animal, and he seemed to be considering how far it was to the ground. Deciding that a jump would kill him, he said, “Okay?”

Stretching out my body, I put him down on my belly. He seemed dazed, as if I had transported him to an alien landscape, and then tentatively he crawled along my sweater. I was studying him, making sure that he didn’t lose his grip and plummet to the street, when my phone rang. All across the city, windows shattered and people clutched at their bleeding ears until I answered it.

Carl didn’t even wait for me to say hello. “Kim’s sick, so I need you to come in tomorrow.”

I really, really didn’t want to come in on my day off, but I knew better than to argue with my boss. “Yeah, alright. What kind of rampage is it?”

“The customer wanted something giga-sized, so it should be easy. Loom over a city, grind it underfoot, and so on.”

My mind drifted away from Carl, and I looked at my watch. I’d have to wrap this up really soon if I wanted to make my class. I muttered agreement, which got my boss off the phone, and then I tried to find Frank. Hopefully, I hadn’t squished him by accident. I prided myself in only crushing the general populace, not paying customers.

He was still kneeling on my torso, staring around wide-eyed. Pinching him between my thumb and forefinger, I lifted him up. I didn’t feel like putting him back into the carrier, so I slipped him down into my bra. So what if it wasn’t a Rampage, Inc. certified procedure? The client was safe, albeit a bit smushed by the soft flesh of my breast.

In my panties, the driver of the SUV had apparently had enough, and he was trying to put the vehicle into reverse. But they were trapped, pinned beneath the heavy weight of my labia, and the tires skidded loudly and futilely. I stroked the small bump in the fabric, pushing the SUV slowly upward; then there was a sudden shriek of metal crunching, and the vehicle was compacted into a thin wafer. Fishing it out, I gave it a cursory glance. Blood and the mashed remains of the driver and passengers leaked out, mixing with my viscous vaginal secretions. I hurled the SUV in the direction of some warehouse buildings and stood up, disappointed to see the patches of oil and ash and debris spotting my skirt. With any luck, the stains would come out at the dry-cleaner’s.

The newscopter was still trailing after me as I trampled a few apartment buildings, dust rising up around my boots. Admittedly, it wasn’t my best rampage, but so what? The customer had received what he had ordered, whether he wanted it or not, and I got paid. I glanced at my watch, stepped on a cluster of screaming people, glanced at my watch again. The last five minutes of any job was the worst because they seemed to take forever.

“Yes, run for your worthless lives!” I said half-heartedly to the survivors. I could have easily hunted them all down, reduced them to a slimy sludge beneath the soles of my boots. But why bother at this point? I counted down the seconds until time was up, and the portal reopened in a shimmering vortex of light. As the news crew watched, I gave one last wave, grinning brightly, and then I stepped into the gateway. Once again, I experienced that weird burning-freezing feeling, and I had to suffer through my head spinning like mad until I was dumped back into the headquarters of Rampage, Inc.

Two of my coworkers were getting ready to go through the portal, a svelte, graceful woman in a teal dress and a blond man in a suit. To be polite, I muttered quick hellos and then dashed toward the locker rooms to change. I had just made it through the door when I felt a desperate wiggling in my bra.

“Shit,” I hissed, gazing down into my sweater. There was Frank, small and extremely upset, his head barely visible. I considered my options: I could go back through the portal and return him right away, or I could hold off until after my pilates class. As I deliberated, the tiny man began to shout at me, threatening lawsuits and bodily harm.

That helped me to make my decision.

“I guess you’re coming to my pilates class with me,” I said, not paying much attention to his high-pitched screeching. “I’ll return you later. Promise.”