My Life As A Giantess

Yeah, that’s me, out for my morning walk through the city. Just a normal girl taking a normal walk. Gotta watch my figure! Nothing unusual at all!

Okay, the fact that I used to be a man, am now around 100 feet tall, and I literally saved every man, woman, and child on the planet from an alien invasion are just the top of the list of things that make me very not normal. And it’s a long list.

“Hi, Joy! How are you?” a man shouted from a nearby building window. Joy was the female name I chose. He didn’t have to shout. Everyone assumes that because I’m so big, and because I have to whisper to them to avoid blowing out their eardrums, that they have to shout to be heard by me. Not true. Among my many gifts, my senses are superhumanly acute.

“Tim, I didn’t know you lived this far from the coffee shop!” I said to him as I bent over to chat. He was only on the 5th floor. Tim was 6’6″, and towered over me when I used to get coffee from him, now he was about as tall as my pinkie finger.

Everyone knows what I did to save the world, and with these special shock-absorbing shoes I designed, I can walk through town without causing mini-quakes or shredding the road…well, I still leave pavement cracks, but they aren’t foot-shaped craters. These people are used to seeing me. Most call out and thank me, or cheer me. And I always go out of my way to help out, and make each tiny one of them feel special.

I offered Tim a ride to his shop, and he accepted. It changed the route I was walking, but I covered so much ground that I literally walked every street in the city every morning. I put my hand near the window, and he climbed on.

“It’s still so hard to believe you’re that short little guy who used to always come into my shop. Turning into a girl must be hard for you, huh?” he asked.

“Actually, I kind of love it.” I said. “I mean, it’s far from the only thing that changed.” I said, putting my other hand at about my head height to illustrate. “But I’m happier now than I’ve ever been.”

That’s something most guys couldn’t get their heads around. The idea that I LIKED being female. But it was true. I lacked confidence as a guy, and a guy without confidence is doomed to being single. That’s why I spent so much time on my apartment building’s roof with my telescope as an amateur astronomer. And why I happened to be looking in exactly the right place when that alien scoutship landed.

I called the authorities, but they hung up on me as a crackpot. So I went myself to get proof. When I arrived, I saw the ship’s crew leave the ship unattended as they went scouting. I snuck in, and was like a kid in a candy store with all the advanced alien tech. My willingness to poke and prod at things though caused the engine to overload and explode.

Normally, that would be fatal. I know that now. But just like in the comic books, get the right DNA combined with the right advanced alien radiation and elements our science hasn’t even posited the existence of yet, and you get a mutation event. I’ve calculated the odds, it’s a one in a trillion event.

I staggered away from the explosion, unaware of how much I had already changed. I was growing about a foot per minute. Only that wasn’t the only change that was happening. Proportionally, I was getting thinner, less muscular. My hair grew, my hips widened. My package shriveled away, until a pussy was left in it’s place. Small, perky breasts formed on my chest. Vocal chords tightened. No facial or body hair. On and on, all the little differences were accounted for.

By the time I was 20 feet tall, I was more or less completely female, by 30 feet, I looked like a smaller version of what I am now. But sex and size weren’t the only things changing. I was becoming ‘more’ in just about every way. My strength wasn’t growing proportional to my body, I was becoming exponentially stronger the bigger I got. And more durable, more athletic, smarter.

This is why, when the alien mothership descended over the city, I knew I was going to have to do something. The aliens announced that they wanted to settle here and were going to exterminate humanity to make room. Small ships came from the mother ship and began firing.

The military jets couldn’t penetrate the alien shields. Cruise missiles, and eventually nuclear weapons were directed at the ships to no effect. Quite frankly, we’re lucky the shield ABSORBED attacks, or that nuclear blast would have destroyed the city.

And so I went into action. A 100 foot tall stark naked woman. I didn’t have time to be careful, and didn’t have my shock absorbing shoes yet, so I did a lot of damage running and jumping and so on. But, unlike the air force, I was effective. I was so strong at this point that a punch from me was FAR more destructive in terms of concentrated force at the point of impact than the H-bomb used against the aliens.

One by one, I jumped and knocked the mini-ships from the sky. I jumped like a video game character. I could roll and spin and control myself mid-jump in ways that even the best Olympic athletes couldn’t. Their attacks against me, each of which was knocking down buildings, felt like gentle pokes. And soon, I jumped up and punched through the mother ship’s shield and grabbed on to it’s underside. I tore it open like it’s exterior was tissue paper, not an alien alloy that our scientists say has so far been impervious to all testing.

Long story short, I saved the world. And the world was introduced to me. Since then, the world has been taking good care of me as a thank you. I’ve heard some talk radio folks talking about how I’m a threat seeing as I’m completely invincible, and that keeping me placated is just what you all have to do to prevent me from taking over, but really, these people don’t know me. I have no desire to rule you.

Clothing and jewelry manufacturers donated huge versions of an entire wardrobe that fits me nice and snug. I get industrial quantities of hair-care and makeup products. Dump trucks full of food are delivered to me every meal. A tampon manufacturer has been making giant tampons for me.

I’m living in a giant tent they made for me at the moment, but just outside of town they’re still building a house that would be normal sized for me, yet would have access and elevators and things so I can entertain normal sized people. When complete they say it will be the largest one story building in history.

Unfortunately, after the initial fun of knocking out aliens, I began to realize some of the other ways I was ‘more’ than a normal 100 foot woman should be. And one of those was libido. Fortunately, the city sees to my needs again.

4 times a day, when I first wake up, right around lunchtime, dinner time, and then right before bed, I get naked in Addison Park, lay down, and all of the guys in town with giantess fetishes come and start climbing all over me. I have to be SO gentle with them. They caress, and kiss me all over. Sometimes as few as a few dozen of them show up, sometimes a few hundred.

I play back of course, picking them up, kissing them. Which of course isn’t that romantic seeing as my lips are wider than their torsos at their widest points. But they get off on it. It’s their fetish. I put their tiny little dongs between my lips, and just wiggle my lips a little. I can’t get their cocks in my mouth, even well hung men’s dicks aren’t long enough to get past my lips. And I can’t suck or put much pressure with my lips, it would tear their dicks off. But just that little lip wiggle and they pop every time, spooging a tiny drop of cum on my lips that I can barely feel, and barely taste when I lick it off my lips.

A lot of the guys congregate on my tits. Though small proportional to my body, I would be an A cup, they of course dwarf the tiny men crawling on them. They love running and jumping and bouncing on my firm, taut bosom and bouncing away. But the prime real estate of course is the nipple and areola. Some guys try to hog them, spreading out and dominating the whole areola and trying to fuck my nipple with their tiny dicks.

Like all my senses, my sense of touch is overly acute. This is why even though they’re all so weak, I can still have a pretty good time. But I like it better when they share and work together to try to pinch or punch or twist my nipples. They’re not strong enough to hurt me, and they tire themselves out SO FAST, but when they try to be forceful, I get stronger stimulation that feels good.

But of course, the real playground is my pussy. I always lay with my ass on the uphill side of the park, and spread my legs as wide as I can. That way, more guys can stand and function on my pussy. I wear a little string around my waist and upper thighs that they can hook safety cable and harnesses to so they don’t fall off and hurt themselves. I really do care for my little boys, and would hate it if any of them got hurt. And of course, a tanker truck filled with lube is always present, and someone hooks a hose up and sprays my vag down before we start.

Some use my pubic hair to hold onto. Often, they’ll work in teams to pull my outer labia apart so that other guys can get better access. It’s hard for them, but they’re always keen to try it themselves first. They usually wear out after a few minutes because it requires constant exercise of all their strength. So I typically reach down and spread myself for them.

Naturally, a lot of guys want to go ‘spelunking’ inside me. The city usually deploys officers to prevent this unless they’ve been properly equipped and trained. It’s easy to suffocate in there, and in the event that I squeeze my vaginal muscles reflexively, they need to be taught how to properly go limp and contort to avoid broken bones and the like.

Also, I forbid big guys inside my pussy. Not because I wouldn’t enjoy bigger things in me, but because it’s harder for me to enjoy anything when I’m terrified about hurting someone. And early on, one of the bigger more muscular guys got 4 broken bones inside me when I squeezed a bit. I felt awful.

The objective of the ‘spelunkers’ is of course to find my g-spot. With my g-spot being as big as a person, you’d think it would be easy to find. Evidently not. Only a few times have they hit it right. But WOW, when they do, and you get three or four of them in there just beating on it with everything they’ve got, it was amazing. I had a squirting orgasm. Of course there was a crowd of about two dozen people positioned between my legs the first time I had a squirter, and the amount of female ejaculate I sprayed them down with…it was impressive. Most were knocked to the ground my the force and volume.

The clitoris is of course, my favorite. And my little men all love working my clit because it’s the one thing they can do that ALWAYS gets a reaction out of me. There’s something powerful about being that small and weak and being able to create a huge reaction out of someone as large and powerful as I am. The guys on my clit always tell me that they really get off on that…the idea that they can make me, such a huge and powerful woman, moan and squeal and smile like I do.

Though they are a minority, I do get women wanting to fuck me, too. I always go out of my way to make them feel welcome, and all my boys know that I will NOT tolerate any mistreatment of the girls. They are to be welcomed. I particularly like kissing the girls. They don’t cum so easy, so they stay interested longer.

I can’t stimulate their pussies. I tried getting the tip of my tongue on there, but all I do is wet their crotch and inner thighs. I just can’t be precise enough. There’s nothing in it for them aside from the fetish angle of being tiny girls with a huge girl’s tongue on them.

So instead, I usually do the same trick with their boobs I do with cocks, gently rolling my lips over them with just the faintest, gentlest pressure I can manage. Most go bananas over this. But of course, they want to play on my body just like the boys, so I don’t keep them too long.

I’ve gotten to know the names of most of my regulars. I’m learning what they like individually. Bobby for example, really likes me to hold his entire body in my fist and squeeze. He loves to roleplay like I’m violent or an angry giantess. I’m not, I love them all. But I can roleplay. I’ve got to be so careful to squeeze enough that he feels the pressure of his body being crushed, yet I don’t ACTUALLY injure him. And then I typically say things like “You tiny little, worm! I can crush the life out of you without even trying! Worship me as your goddess!”

Of course, everyone knows it’s just roleplay, and a lot of people laugh when I say that kind of stuff. It’s hard to take stuff like that seriously from a giantess who giggles and laughs with you while everyone’s getting ready, and asks you questions about your life and wants to know each of you by name. I’m sorry, I’m not an angry giantess! Among the many things that became ‘more’ about me is that I’ve become more loving and caring of the people around me. I adore you all!

I cum each time we play. If nothing else, I can always finish myself through masturbation. But I prefer when my boys bring me to climax. It’s more fun. Unfortunately, in recent months, it hasn’t been enough. I see a shrink regularly of course, and I’ve had to admit to her that I am starting to feel DESPERATE to have a baby.

This isn’t like a normal woman who has baby fever. This is…well, MORE. I told my liaison about it, and word got put out. They started taking donations from practically every guy in the city to donate enough sperm to maybe get me pregnant. They forged a dildo with a pump inside of it to stream the cum into me.

I was so excited when the day finally arrived. A tanker truck full of the jism of guys all over the city was hooked up to the giant dildo. Huge valves were screwed into place to handle the pressure. They sprayed both it and my pussy down from the lube truck. I was given the ready sign, and I took the dildo in my hand and gently pushed it inside of me.

I’d had entire men inside me, but never something large enough to actually FEEL like a cock proportional to my size. The men just felt like little squirmy fingers. Thin. Light. Weak. This was different. This was big. It filled me up, and then some.

I grimaced with discomfort at first. It was too big. I expressed this to the team of workers helping me out. One, a woman, spoke up. “It’s possible that because your female body is a virgin, you might be feeling discomfort because of your hymen! But it also might be just you needing to give it time to let yourself stretch a bit! I know that happened to me the first time I took a dildo!” she advised. She then looked around at her male co-workers leering at her.

And so I kept at it, and she was right. The longer I went, the more accustomed to it I became. And soon, I was going to TOWN on myself. The team was awaiting the sign from me that I was cumming and they would start the jizz pump. The truck was keeping the cum warm.

Finally, I started to feel that explosion rippling up through me. “I’M CUMMING!!!” I shouted loud enough that windows shattered for blocks in every direction. My orgasmic scream could be heard in the suburbs I was told later. The boys slapped the pump into action, and I was instructed to hold the dildo as deep inside as I could. I could feel little warm splashes inside me. Like being shot by a squirt gun, but with warm water, not cold.

I couldn’t wait. They had manufactured a giant pregnancy test for me, but I only had the one for now. I had to wait three weeks to make sure the test would be accurate. Finally, the day came and I squatted down and peed on the stick.

“I’M PREGNANT!!! IT WORKED!!!” I shouted and jumped hundreds of yards into the air in joy. I compressed my legs as I landed to minimize the jolt. Jumping that high was irresponsible. I managed to keep the earthquake I generated upon landing small enough that people could barely feel it unless they were close by. Close by people were knocked to the ground.

As the months passed and my belly began growing, I felt so whole. Medical care was complicated by my size and invulnerability, but we managed. Delivery was excruciatingly hard. Much harder than for a normal woman, because I couldn’t have a doctor ‘catch’ the baby, since even my newborn was many times larger than the doctors. There was no anesthetic produced in a large enough quantity to take the edge off my pain. I had to break the umbilical cord myself. And so on.

But soon, I was holding my baby girl in my arms. I cried and thanked everyone for their help. I’ve never been in more pain, but I’ve also never been happier. I named her Jessica after my maternal grandmother. Fortunately, she latched on and nursed from me like a champ. If she hadn’t, it’s doubtful we could have produced enough formula to keep her alive. My boobs had swollen nice and big, and I was producing plenty of milk.

A DNA test had been taken from each sperm donor, and one was taken from Jessica. In a short time, I was introduced to Jessica’s father. It turned out, it was one of my friends from giantess sex! David was ecstatic to find out he had been the one to impregnate a giantess out of thousands of donors.

I asked David to make sure he was a part of Jessica’s life, and he agreed. He climbed onto his daughter and hugged her as best he could. This was my family. How could anyone think I didn’t love my new life?


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