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Big Girl By Barry

Page history last edited by PBworks 15 years, 11 months ago


By Barry


A drop of sweat rolled under Ray's hairline and tickled the shaved shadow of his sideburn. He nervously slapped at the itch and glanced with surprise at the moisture on his fingers; he hadn't realized that he was sweating heavily. His skin was becoming hot, and still, he couldn't pull his ear away from the wall, and he couldn't stop visualizing every scene of the bizarre drama that played in the next room.


Before there had been more talk--Brenda teasing him and calling for him to "service" her, but now the sounds had become a steady storm of rumbles, thumps, and fitful, feminine laughter that would have suggested the lovers' playful wrestling if not for the occasional groan of the male voice. Then the laughter began to dominate the soundscape, rising above all else and growing richer against the dull backdrop of rumbling noises. Ray got hard. And as his cock tightened inside his briefs, his mind's eye added detail to the picture, taking guidance from the unnerving pleas and moans of his shipmate, Marcus.


He and Marcus had been through parallel trials now, but they never spoke to each other at all or even made eye contact. The triangle that was the crew of this station was too heated with jealousy and too thick with shame, and normal civilities were pointless. Ray hated to even think of Brenda with Marcus, but still he needed to look, just peep through the slats, to see how she played with her other lover.


And to think that it had been only eleven days—six since she'd reached her current stature of eight feet, one inch. Ironically, she had fascinated him long before she could frighten him--ever since they met. Young, blond, tall and beautiful, she looked more like a fashion model than a technician. Then she was maybe two inches shorter than

Ray, 5'9" or so, and had long, straight golden hair that glowed even under the pale lights of the station. Her face was cool and soft with baby-doll features, her eyes a deep, shining blue. And for Ray, she was an endless source of fascination, perhaps because she seemed unattainable.


He'd never been successful with women like Brenda. Never smooth enough or good-looking enough. And from the minute he was introduced to Brenda, he recognized a familiar pattern: he didn't rate. She was out of his league, clearly not interested, and Ray knew that his role in her world could be no more than that of a passive admirer. Even when she smiled there was aloofness--even bitchiness, a cockiness borne of her natural leverage over all who loved beautiful women. Her sexiness gave her power, and she wore her superior airs like pelts of a huntress. After a while, Ray imagined that her every bored smile was an earned arrogance, a trophy of some past conquest over a disadvantaged admirer. And all of that was before the bizarre syndrome set in.


When the change came over her, Brenda seemed to acquire an other-worldly presence. The effect made her more voracious and seductive, and of course, larger.


Because it wasn't understood, it was disquieting for the rest of the crew. They didn't know what or how; only that something, whether in the shuttle, the orbital station or in space itself, had created in Brenda the most dramatic physical effect that they had ever seen. For Ray, it was all he could do to stay calm and not let it get to him--or at least not let anyone see that it was getting to him. After all, these missions were considered routine. Three weeks on the orbital station for chemical property studies, and then back down. This was his sixth trip and it hadn't seemed unusual in any way before Brenda's growth spurt. They'd come smoothly into orbit and docked with the station without impact or breach. There was just one weird sensor report--an unusual magnetic event just as they'd entered the hold. It could have been anything: a space rock, a solar flare, anything. No one thought much of it at the time; but whatever it was; it caused something phenomenal to happen to Brenda.


The first sign was her appetite. She started eating so much and so ravenously that the monitoring physician ordered a complete CASE (computer aided self exam) for everyone. The results were normal for the men, but for Brenda the report showed a hormonal mutation in her blood, and that she was growing at a rate of nearly an inch per eight hours and gaining weight proportionally. The report also showed a geometric rise in her body's pheromone production. The command canceled all scheduled experiments and quarantined the station.


Reaction from Ray and the other men was sharply subdued if not completely repressed, as each man's emotions were tossed from pity and fear to unconscionable surges of raw lust. For Ray, whether or not she realized the effect on them was unclear; she mostly ignored them, spending the days lounging in the window room, staring through space with, Ray thought, just the vaguest gleam about her eyes.


She continued to eat incredible amounts of food, exhausting four weeks' single rations in five days. Her physical growth soon became dramatic, and by their sixth day on the station she was almost 7 feet, 2 inches tall. To the men's relief, her calm disposition seemed unshakable. It was as if she felt nothing but the hunger. Still, her apparent lack of concern didn't seem to come from any kind of courageous resolve, but rather seemed unconscious or at least inadvertent. For Ray, her ease was at times unseemly, and even eerie.


Then came the weird behavior. One night at dinner, in front of Ray, Brenda started pawing Marcus and whispering in his ear, then tugging on the collar of his shirt and even stroking his crotch. He was embarrassed, and the two other men exchanged looks of surprise. But Brenda was oblivious to them as she whispered, loudly enough for them to hear, for her lover to come to her cabin. He ended up going. Ray sat alone and watched television, fuming in jealousy and dreaming of


An hour later she was organizing the rest of them to help her dismantle the overhead storage loft so that she would have room to stand straight-up. That would clear her to nine feet or so; Ray marveled at the thought of her being that large. In fact, he couldn't stop himself from being drawn to stare at her.


Over the next two days of watching Brenda re-model the station, Ray's admiration, aggravated by the pheromones, became embarrassingly obvious. She must have noticed, but acted as if his silent worship was both expected and quite unimportant. She was dwarfing him in more ways than one.


For Ray, here was a woman who simply had more than he'd even imagined. Colossal. Magnificent. Beautiful. A giantess of frightening scale, yet marvelous in every proportion, her natural grace and slender perfection intact. For all her size and weight, there was nothing awkward about her. No bulk or lankiness, nothing unbalanced. She was as gorgeous as ever, and much more fascinating.


The atmosphere of the station changed markedly after Brenda out-grew her clothes. Beginning the day she retired her previously biggest shirt and baggiest pants, there was sexual electricity in the air which was, for Ray, sometimes so intense as to cause physical tremors and even pain. But he knew that her clothes were gone for good and that he had to try to get used to seeing her in her new look: now white cotton sheets wrapped her body like a toga, but these must have been uncomfortable since she soon began insisting to Marcus that he make her some clothes out of one of the substances on board for experimentation--a liquid rubber that congealed in low gravity. The problem was that there were no moldings for it that resembled clothing and really no way to fashion material out of it. Nonetheless, she insisted, and Marcus showed no disposition to argue with her. He stayed in the lab day and night until the clothing was made. Ray didn't know whether to pity or envy him; at least he had something to do with his time.


The situation became increasingly tense. Ray could feel a change in the way Brenda was relating to him and to Marcus. There were new but uncertain rules for the way they talked to each other; no one ventured humor anymore.


There was fear among the two men--fear of the super-human strength and unpredictable temper of a woman whom they both found irresistible. Seeing her prance around the station in a white cotton towel left no doubt with any of them: there was a new law in the jungle.


The effect of Brenda's growth was unnerving in an unusual way. She was becoming like a living goddess before their eyes, and her sexual lure as unbelievably strong. The lack of diversions made it worse. Ray spent hours in front of the television, hardly able to concentrate enough to follow simple stories, his thoughts constantly invaded by the picture of her amazing body strolling around the station. He could only try to fight the insistent images of the Towering Queen in her royal sheet, and he was losing ground, waiting there, knowing that she would wander into the room sooner or later. Finally she did.


He wasn't prepared for what he saw. She was barely covered by her sheet, her sleek yet voluptuous form all but spilling out over it. Ray drank in the sight of her, spellbound, then he noticed that the upper part of her sheet seemed to hang only on her prominently erect nipples. The thought crossed his mind that if she weren't so much taller, he could have seen down her front. But it seemed somehow fitting that her massive breasts were out of reach.


Nearer his own level, Brenda's hops flared wide and womanly and her ass carried prominently out behind her. She'd let the sheet ride up on her thighs, exposing the thick, round plushness that would ordinarily have been visible only if she were wearing bikini-style panties.


"Hey, why don't you help me stretch?" It was a flat rhetorical question.


Ray spent the next ten minutes standing over her, levering her long, powerful legs back over her head as she lay on the floor on her back. With knees straight, her legs extended almost to Ray's neck, and he found something very heady about the closeness of her slender feet to his face. He thought he was being careful in controlling his face, but somehow she picked up his feeling.


"You like the smell, don't you?" This time she expected an answer. "Put your nose here." she said while rubbing her first and second toe together suggestively.


"Brenda, really--"


"I could make you, Ray. Very easily." Her sudden giggle announced an afterthought: "--though that was probably true when I was small too, if I'd bothered to try."


Their eyes met and Ray felt his resolve drain away. Yes, she could make him. And she had her choice of weapons. This time, force would yield to seduction.


Carefully and nervously, he moved his flushed face to the sole of her foot and began with a tentative, opened mouth kiss on the large ball of her foot. She gave an entertained sigh of approval, and gradually, Ray allowed his passion to pour into the sole of her foot. In a few minutes he was lapping and sucking madly. When she was done with him, she playfully squeezed his face between the insteps of her feet, which held his whole head easily.


"You're going to be my little rag-doll man...so cute, you are!" Then she abruptly released him. "But now get out of here. I'll see you later."


From that point on, her feet required Ray's attention daily, and sometimes more than once each day. Finally, he had work to do. And soon thereafter, Marcus produced some thin, pliable sheets of the gelatin rubber, and Ray was given the additional assignment of cutting and fusing them into garments. Because Brenda wanted the rubber to fit snug to her form, Ray's job required taking close measurement of her abundant, pheromone exuding body. The resulting arousal was often so intense as to disorient him and make him dizzy, and twice actually made him forget what he was doing.


But he didn't often get so close to her; sometimes she just wanted him to perform some little chore, like washing her clothes. But there were also times when they played games, when she came to his cabin and sat on his chest while he lay on his bunk gasping for breath. Or she would make him sit on her soft lap while she pinched his hard penis through his pants. His worried pride dreaded the picture of him sitting on her lap like a child and wetting the front of his pants with come, but there was nothing he could have done anyway.


More importantly, there was probably nothing he would have done anyway. For all his fear and shame, Brenda had carried him into a sexual nirvana, and now he was an addict. And like all addicts, he began to need regular doses. When Brenda began spending more time with Marcus, he almost went mad with jealousy. He could think of nothing but being with her. And that led him to be crouched on the other side of her wall.




The beads of sweat were growing heavier on Ray's face now, itchier, as he squatted at the vent between Brenda's quarters and his own. He had to struggle not to deplore himself for this. It was pathetic; but he couldn't stop his need to see her...


Brenda's voice boomed a laugh, and whatever she was doing to Marcus vibrated the aluminum floor. The familiar mix of fear and thrill enveloped Ray like a mist, and he bent down and put his eye to the slats of the vent.


Peeping on her sent an exciting rush through him, and the surge of adrenaline made him react all the more strongly to the sight of Brenda. Was she taller than an hour ago?



Certainly, something was responsible for the new wonder he felt witnessing her looming over Marcus, her towering frame hugged by two pieces of the light-weight black rubber, one acting as a bra and the other molded to her hips. Although her size had stabilized at eight feet, the rubber clothes were made when she was five inches shorter and her measurements were smaller, and as a result, she'd grown so the halter and panties were being stretched well beyond their relaxed state and looked as if they would eventually tear free of her body. Of course it was all impossibly erotic: her breasts straining in the balloon-like cups, pulling against the wide bands that encircled her back. Her hips were squeezed even tighter, and her big ass stretched the black rubber panties so that the center of their seat had fatigued to an ashen tone.


But if the rubber was uncomfortable, she didn't let it spoil her passion. Ray thought that she looked hungrier and more beautiful than ever: hair tossed, eyes, blazing, lips curled into a predatory smile. He envied Marcus being so close to her glowing skin.


"You will eat me, little man," she growled, "or I'll beat your ass into the floor."


And she stood like a stature of female glory. A towel slung over her sumptuous hip draped the slope of her left thigh. Her hair was disheveled, and Ray wondered if her hapless lover had run his fingers through it. Then, as he watched, Brenda unfastened the halter in the back and looked at Marcus with her head cocked mischievously, practicing her peculiar style of bitch heat. And then she stood only in panties...stood so beautifully.


Ray reached into his pants and began stroking his iron-hard cock as he watched Brenda taunt Marcus with her body. Suddenly Marcus was down on his knees, kissing her thighs, begging to fuck her; but Ray could tell she was on a power trip. She intended to tease him for a while.


Ray let out a moan.


"What was that?" Brenda asked.


Ray snatched up his pants in panic. Did she know it was him?--maybe she'd pass it off as a sound from the engine room. Thankfully for Ray, she seemed to dismiss it without investigation, and he turned his attention back to the scene beyond the vent--and to his still hard cock.


"But ya know, Marky," Brenda said, turning to Marcus, "before I make you eat me, I think you should strip. I'd like to make a point if I may."


Marcus had a glazed, distant look in his eyes as he stood and unbuttoned his trousers. When he was nude, his excitement was obvious.


"So it's not such a terrible idea for you, is it?! You like being pushed around by a big girl."


Laughing, she cupped her basketball-sized breasts in her hands, bouncing them and then letting them jiggle as she let them go. They were huge spheres of perfection, looming with breath-taking grace above the slender pedestal of her waist--which was still no bigger than Ray's own. It seemed miraculous that they stood so firm and high despite their tremendous weight; but then they were no less than miracles. They had become living monuments to sensuality, crowned with dark, nearly saucer-sized areolae and hard, jutting nipples.


Now trembling with arousal more intense than he'd ever known, Ray's fingers slipped on the slats, making a loud raking sound across them and closing his view. He scrambled to fix it, but when he did Brenda was gone. His wonder at where she'd gone was short-lived, for as he knelt on the floor with pants down, searching desperately through the slats of the little vent, a tall shadow came over him.


When he looked up, Ray though he was dreaming: the goddess, breasts bare and bold, sneered down from on high.


"What's up, Ray?" she chirped, "besides your penis, I mean."


Ray's head jerked away from the vent in reflex, as if there were some point in trying to hide what he'd been doing. But he next second brought the realization that he'd been caught. He gave a soft sigh of relief. She was his again, if only for the moment.


"I'm so sorry, Brenda--it's just that you were making so much noise..."


Towering over him, she wore the familiar insolent smirk more brazenly than before, as if her assumed license for open contempt had grown from an attractive lady's prerogative into the divine right of a queen. Arching her body backward in a languid stretch, she posed herself for him, displaying her body like some masterpiece of temptation, or some terrible weapon. Crouched level with her hips, Ray had to arch his neck just to look her in the eyes, and the severe angle of his view made her look archly menacing.


"Yeah, Marcus and I were having a discussion," she crooned. "I want a man who will do what I ask without arguing. What do you think, Ray?"


There was a moment of pause as Ray looked into her eyes, as if the answer were hidden there. "I don't know," he finally said.


Smiling, Brenda strode artfully toward him, closing the space between them to just a few inches. Her slightly bent knee came hovering just above his face, and it was more than he could bear gracefully. He lowered his head to avoid further embarrassment.


Then she suddenly shouted: "Guess what, Ray!" she baited with wide eyes and pursed lips in a satirical, Marilyn Monroe style. Then she let the towel fall from her hips. "You're going to lick my cunt!"


Had she really said it? Did she mean it? But his instinct had resolved these questions before his mind could even catch on, and he was prepared to give her what she wanted. Ready to worship her, his eyes slowly descended her body, surveying the contours of her lean middle, and then arriving at the fabulous width and lushness of her hips. Her pubic hair was a dense bush of blond curls covering an area larger than his hand, and in its lower stretch, down between her legs, tiny droplets of moisture clung to matted little hairs. Then her knee moved forward an inch or two, and the new angle brought to light a thin, shining trail of wetness on her fabulously long and tapered thigh. He unconsciously licked his lips.


Her deep laugh shook him from the trance that her body had cast over him, but the experience had made the situation clear to him. Caught in a potent mix of lust and shame, his sexual need had put him at her disposal, unable to distract himself from her goddess-like body and helpless before her brazen seduction; that made him weak to her, even inconsequential. The pattern was set. His pride would lay dormant for her, ready to dissolve into nothing whenever he heard her sultry voice or stole a glimpse of her mammoth breasts, or noticed how pretty her feet were...


"Are you looking at my feet, Ray?" she squealed and laughed in surprise.


He hadn't even realized it, but he had been staring at her feet. Her observation cut through him like a scalpel. Now, having given away one of his deepest secrets, he felt lost in an almost infantile helplessness. She had over-powered his presence of mind--with her feet!


"That's great, Ray! Really great. You know, they say that a man's interest in women's feet is a sign of a certain 'willingness to please.' What do you think?"


"I-I don't know," he answered softly.


"I do know. You're going to be a nice, sweet pussy-lover for me, aren't you Ray?" She waited for an answer, then: "Well, AREN'T YOU, RAY?!"


"Yes," came Ray's defeated whisper. "I'll be your'pussy-lover'."


Brenda chuckled softly. "Pussy-lovers and pussies," she mused. "You guys are all alike." She laughed a little to herself, then seemed lost in thought. "Ray, you're not ready for my cut yet; I think you should start down at my feet."


There was nothing else left to consider, no reason for telling her no--and every reason his nature could give him to go ahead. So he walked to her on his knees as she daintily lifted one foot to caress the opposite ankle with its instep.


Her feet were as long as a man's size 13 from toe to heel, but too narrow to fill a man's shoe. High, slender arches loomed elegantly above the pads of textured pink skin at the balls and heels. Thin toes plumped slightly at their ends. Perfect like the rest of her--but somehow more than the rest of her. Delicate and fine, like indulgently sensual sculptures formed with great delight by their loving artist.


Ray bent to kiss her foot...the second toe, the third, and suddenly he was mad with passion, planting long, wet, sucking kisses all over her divine foot. Steadily he moved over the skin, up the fine work of her ankle and around a soft calf. She was content to let him straighten his back a little, so that he could ascend to her knees. But he could go no higher from his kneeling position.


"Pull up a chair, Ray."


He immediately grabbed the dresser chair and positioned it between her legs, almost under her, then crouched down and snaked his way into the seat so that his face was almost touching her hot, musky bush. Enlarged like the rest of her body, her vaginal lips were an ominous four inches of slick, oily wetness, and it occurred to him that he could easily sink his whole face into her inviting folds. But instead he was almost tentative as he moved his lips into her tight curls, pressing gently forward until her warm wetness covered his lower face and the cushion of her vagina pressed back at him. He kissed her, then swiped his tongue between the lips, and her cunt responded with flow. The milk of her sex poured onto his face and into his mouth. Salty and sweet. Pungent. It was a bitter but immediately addicting nectar, and Ray lapped it, sucked it into his mouth, swallowed it. He felt her huge hand cradle the back of his head, and he was pulled in deeper, harder...and higher. His nose brushed her firm, over-sized clitoris jutting wantonly from between her lips, and he sucked it in.


Brenda Jerked and thrust her massive hips against Ray's face, grinding hard into him. The onset of her orgasm was sudden and violent, but then she settled into long, steady tremors of bliss, bucking and undulating against his face for a long, soulful come. When it was over she let go of Ray's head, and he fell from her crotch like a broken doll, wilting to a heap on the floor.




When his head cleared a little, Ray noticed her towel tossed across his back. He wiped his face with it and shook his head to clear his vision. Brenda was sitting there watching him. There was more to come.


"Everything okay, Lover?" she purred in the low resonant note of a pleased woman. Ray nodded the affirmative. She took a step forward, which was enough to place her standing directly over him. The sly smile that had fit her so well was leaving now, replaced with a glare. "That's good," she said, as if thinking aloud, "it's good that you're okay." --her voice breathy and drained, as if she were only partly conscious-- "because now I want you to do something else for me, Ray. Something very important."


Ray looked at her, wondering. Then came disbelief. She could only be talking about one thing, but she couldn't be serious. She would never let him.


"I'd like you to fuck me."


Her words hung in the room like a hot fog, dangling paradise in his imagination. One of her teasing jokes? A cruel trick to make him pant and beg so that she could knock him back to ground with a good laugh? No. She wasn't toying with him now; she was hot with passion and offering him the opportunity of his sexual lifetime. A minute before, he'd been exhausted to the point of collapse; now he was electrified.


"Oh, yes...I'd love to fuck you! Please..."


Before he could finish the sentence, Brenda was down on her knees, draping her sumptuous eight-foot body face down over a table. Ray was already rock-hard.


For a moment he savored the picture of her body flung over the table for a bitch-style fucking. Her head hung near the floor on the far side of the table and her back was slightly bowed, making her look more inviting, even pliant. But most prominent in her pose was the huge, luscious ass that loomed in the foreground. It was incredible. Broader than Ray's shoulders, her mighty ass was amazingly firm and very smooth, her long, deep crack separating her buttocks into tightly compressed and bulging spheres. The sight fired his body. It was time to go in.


He slipped in easily and started rocking back and forth inside of her. Her wet cunt dwarfed his penis, and Ray knew that she could have taken another three inches of length and much more width than he could provide. The difference in size made her pussy less gripping of his shaft, though her vaginal walls enveloped and held his cock well. It was heaven to be inside of her and he set himself to pounding vigorously. But she stopped him:


"Not there," She whined dreamily, her eye lids heavy with sensual inebriation. "you're too small...I want you in my ass."


Her suggestion thrilled him to the bone. He took his slick shaft in hand and raised the cockhead to her anus, setting the engorged bulb firmly in the depression of her puckered hole. Now he was truly at the gateway to heaven, and his body pressed into her of its own accord, sliding the still slippery head into her hot, clenching hole. He churned his hips once gently, then again, and finally he managed to button his aching glans through the tough muscle of her sphincter. Then she seemed to slide back into him as if her ass were going to swallow his whole body, but he met her head on, making a long, slow push deep into her ass, sinking himself into her tender, spasming flesh.


His body delighted to the glorious friction and he began to take his strokes fuller and faster, gradually working up to a steady drilling. She moaned low in her throat, and Ray felt a thrill of satisfaction at the thought that he was pleasing her with his cock. For a moment he mulled it over in his mind: she must be the most sexually enticing woman ever to live, and he was fucking her in the ass.


Finally the scene carried him to such a fierce pitch of arousal that his head swam deliriously as if he would fall faint any second. But instead, his body instinctively set to fucking her huge, divine ass with an abandon that he'd never felt before. She was his prize, and he was taking her full and hard, pounding her ass like pumping air into a tire. It didn't take long for him to come.


Afterward, they slept. And when they both woke, Brenda smiled at Ray with a sweetness that she'd not shown before. He reached out to caress her cheek. He was at peace, comfortable. The fear and shame was gone, and he no longer cared how long the quarantine would be. He'd found nirvana.

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