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It Happened in Iowa By Nemo

Page history last edited by PBworks 15 years, 2 months ago

It Happened in Iowa


By Nemo



Chapter 1



It began with the meteorite project. Brooke was a newly graduated geologist and had jumped at the chance to be part of the team. When she got home, she laid it all out for her husband, Chuck.


"...and I'll be going a few hundred feet underground. The meteorite has been buried there for 74 million years. We know it's there. We just have to dig a little and take a few core samples. Then we study them."


Chuck was nonplussed. A meteorite? In Iowa?


"I don't believe it. There ought to be a huge crater if that really happened. Where is it?"


"It's there - completely underground! The reason you can't see it is because Ice Age glaciers pushed soil and rocks into the hole. It's called glacial till. Sure, corn may grow on it, but that soil is like no other. That's why we've got to study the meteorite - to see how it might have affected the area."


Chuck had no scientific background and made his living as a car detailer. Meteorites held little interest for him.


"So you're on a team. Does that mean you won't be home to cook my dinner?"


Brooke shook her head. "Not for a few days, probably. There'll be some long hours. But this is so exciting! I never thought I'd get the chance...oh, the possibilities!"


Chuck, who was seldom enthusiastic, grew positively glum. "Do you think there's a possibility you could shut the hell up about it?"


The rest of the week was strange for both of them. Brooke left early and stayed late at work each night. She'd come home to find Chuck in his favorite chair, asleep by the TV, surrounded by fast food wrappers or pizza boxes. On Friday night she found him awake.


"Hey, hon," he grunted while holding a beer can aloft. "How's the rock business?"


"Fantastic. We're working with the actual samples now. You know, the guys didn't notice it, but I swear I get an odd feeling, like some chemical reaction, every time I get close to those samples. It's like they're calling to me, telling me secrets from millions of years ago."


"Ya don't say. Hey, are you hungry?" Chuck indicated a pizza box on the floor.


"Sure." Brooke reached down to open the box, removed a slice, then stood up and walked towards her husband. "Got an extra beer there?"


"Nah - they're in the fridge. Get me another one too, will ya."


As Brooke walked away, Chuck couldn't take his eyes off her. She seemed...different. Her stride was confident, purposeful - and sexy. Maybe it was the work.


An hour later they went to bed and had their best sex in months.


Has to be the work, thought Chuck as he drifted towards sleep. Thank God for meteorites.



In the following days Brooke came home tired and went to bed early. Chuck hardly noticed her but managed to feed himself. Late one night, he was brushing his teeth when he happened to glance into the small trash basket on the floor. One of Brooke's old bras lay there. Something made him pull it out.


He inspected it. Very odd, he thought. It was if someone had played tug of war with his wife's bra - it was that stretched. He noticed that the fabric had given way in spots and threads hung down loosely.


Chuck walked into the darkened bedroom and turned on a lamp. There was Brooke, laid out and fast asleep. It was the first time he'd really looked at her in days. Funny thing - their king sized bed looked smaller.


He looked from her bare feet poking from under the blankets, to her head. She filled the entire length! As he looked at his sleeping wife, Chuck had one more idea. He took a corner and began to peel the blanket away. Soon, her naked body lay before him.


Yes, she had grown. Not only longer, but larger, too. Her breasts, tummy, arms, thighs, even her head! Bigger.


Should he wake her up? No, he decided. The next day was Saturday and he would let her sleep. Only then would they talk.


The next day, Chuck busied himself with home projects, giving Brooke the time and space she needed to wake and groom herself. He found her in the kitchen having a late morning cup of coffee. Even sitting she looked huge.


He sat across from her and quietly said, "Want to tell me what's going on?"


She met his eyes and nodded. "I'm on administrative leave. Suddenly I'm taller than everyone else - even Stretch! Everyone at work noticed it, and it seems I'm a disruption. And all the women in the office - they're frightened of me. This is getting scary."


"But why? What's happening to you?"


"Don't know. They told me to see a doctor but I haven't called yet. And I don't know if I will. It would be too embarrassing."


Chuck made a disgusted face. "Now that's just crazy. You got to address this thing. Here, I'll make the appointment for ya." He strode to the wall telephone and picked up the receiver. Just as he started to dial, he felt a strong grip on his left wrist. It was the oversized hand of his wife.


She firmly removed the phone from his hand and set it back in its cradle. "Look," she said, "I'll call when I'm ready. Don't make decisions for me."


Chuck was too surprised to say anything. He sank slowly into his seat while Brooke leaned against the stove and looked out the window.


"Chuck, I'm going to need your love and support, and to accept me the way I am. I'm going through a lot of changes. I need time to adjust. Please understand."


He gave what he thought was a sympathetic look. "Okay."


But by late afternoon, he began to have other thoughts. He walked the neighborhood, pondering this new wrinkle in his life. The worst part was, he couldn't even tell anyone. Who'd believe him? The guys at the dealership would have a field day. "Hey Chuck, make sure ya don't fall in!" Yes, he had to keep this to himself.


At dinnertime Brooke seemed a different person. She had napped most of the afternoon and was now more cheerful. But Chuck had sunk into a stupor. As he sat down to eat, he noticed much more food than usual. Platters of meat, huge bowls of vegetables, gallons of milk, an entire loaf of bread.


"God help us, what's this? Did you invite a football team to dinner?"


Brooke smiled and shook her blonde hair. "No, this is mostly for me. I'm a hungry girl these days. But don't worry - I'll share."


Chuck ate very little as he watched Brooke put away all of the food plus some of his - "Are you going to eat that?" To Chuck it was bizarre and incredible.


Later they watched an old movie on TV, seated on both ends of a long couch. Brooke grew drowsy and spread her long frame across the couch and lay her heavy head on Chuck's lap.


Chuck did not complain.



Sunday was another long and lazy day. Chuck suggested a drive. Brooke said no. She took him by the hand and led him upstairs. Puzzled, he asked her why.


"You'll find out."


That afternoon was one of discovery for both of them. Chuck had thought sex would be the last thing on her mind. Evidently not.


After they had wrestled in the sheets for a while, Brooke had a suggestion.


"How about I go on top?"


Chuck puzzled over this. It had never happened before and it might set a bad precedent.


"Yeah," he said at length. "We can try it - once."


Brooke wasted no time straddling her husband with her large, well-toned body. Chuck felt a moment of panic - there was no escape now - but she soon put him at ease with a few tender kisses. "Relax," she murmured. "I'm not going to eat you."


He did try to relax. Chuck simply lay there while Brooke did the work. But not for long.


"Okay there, bub. You have to help, too. Move a little - let's find a rhythm. And it wouldn't hurt you to kiss my breasts."


It was almost too much for Chuck. She never told him what to do, and certainly not in bed. But in this compromised position, he felt compelled to obey. He slowly pulled one outsized breast to his mouth and kissed it lightly. Brooke moaned. Encouraged, Chuck increased his activity while his wife slid her body over him.


They climaxed together, and it was good. Brooke lowered her whole body and all her weight on Chuck. It wasn't too uncomfortable for a just a few minutes, and Brooke finally got off Chuck.


Ten minutes of silence elapsed as they lay next to each other, then Chuck broke it.


"I've been thinking - about this meteorite and all. You say it didn't affect the guys. What about the women? Are they growing too?"


Brooke thought. "No, the office staff don't go near the samples. Except...it's possible that Brenda might be helping with the sorting and labeling. It's something I normally do."


"Brenda?" said Chuck. "Do I know her?"


"Not sure. Young, dark hair, single, funny. She's the office wiseass. But she's smart, too. Very competent. You'd like her."


"You know, you may want to call her, touch base. Ask her if she's gained weight."


Brooke shifted closer to Chuck. "I wonder what you're thinking right now."


Chuck said nothing but grinned in a funny way.


Brooke immediately climbed back on Chuck before he could react. "Just for that we're going again - and longer this time. I'm not done with you yet."



A week had passed. Brooke would not let Chuck measure her but she had to be at least eight feet. They had taken the bed apart so that the box spring and mattress lay flat on the floor. Brooke's legs and feet stuck out no matter what position she slept in.


One night Chuck came home to find her in tears. The toilet would not flush and the bathroom floor was flooded. Through her sobs, she asked Chuck to take care of it.


He did, but as he swabbed the floor and went to work with a plunger, he wondered how this situation with Brooke was going to work. Maybe it wouldn't.




Something had woken Chuck out of a sound sleep. He opened his eyes, saw nothing but the alarm clock numbers against the dark, and closed them again. It was 3:22 a.m. There was no sound except the steady breathing of his young wife.


The sound reassured him. He changed positions, turning toward her and without thinking, reached out to place a lazy hand on her back.


One second later, his eyes snapped open. Damn! In his dreamlike state, he'd forgotten about the changed Brooke. Breath held, jaw clenched, he waited for the inevitable.


"Mmmmm," his wife purred. "More." Brooke, he realized, was a now light sleeper and came alive to his slightest touch. But maybe this time he could get out of it.


"Sorry, hon. I moved in my sleep. Goodnight."


But Brooke would not be denied. She turned her massive body, then her massive head toward Chuck. "You will get over here and rub my back. Now."


In other, more normal days, Brooke would have couched her request in a wheedling, sexy tone. If Chuck was in the mood, he might do a one-handed lackadaisical rub while staying half-asleep. This, however, was no request. He sat up and used both hands to massage her entire back, shoulders, even buttocks, until Brooke was satisfied. There was a lot to cover, and it took a long time.


The trouble was, he thought, it was never just a back rub these days. Sex followed immediately, always the way Brooke liked it, with her on top. Chuck tried to explain that since she now outweighed him and dwarfed his six-foot frame, he might feel a little, well, crushed. Brooke just laughed.


Brooke had now turned toward Chuck, who began to massage her enlarged breasts. She was getting more excited by the minute. Chuck decided to make one more attempt at compromise. "Brooke? Do you mind if we reconsider the woman-on-top thing?"


The large woman smiled. "Correction. Goddess on top. And yes, I do mind."


She happily climbed atop her husband, trapping his lower body beneath her. Chuck, despite his discomfort, was hard. Brooke was beautiful. Her blonde hair hung to her shoulders, her body fit and solid. He admired her breasts, now hovering over him, and her other pleasing curves. Chuck had always liked Brooke's body, but now there was so much of it.


Brooke had now settled in, enclosing as much of him as would fit inside her. Chuck had the feeling she might swallow him up entirely. She made slow, ponderous movements, heaving up and crashing down on her husband's pelvis. As she approached climax, the movements came faster, until everything stopped, and Brooke collapsed to clutch Chuck in her arms.


Her orgasms went on and on, and once spent, she sank her full weight on the distressed Chuck. She lay there for a blissful five minutes, then carefully got up.


Chuck lay motionless and gasping; he looked like a cartoon cat flattened by a steamroller.


And she still wasn't finished. Brooke liked to cuddle. Chuck had turned away, desperate for sleep, but he felt a powerful arm pulling him towards her overheated body. She wrapped her eight-plus feet around him, spoon-like, and settled into sleep.


There was no sleep for Chuck. With her breasts against his back and her arm pinning him in place like a steel bar in an amusement ride, he pondered his situation until dawn. How had things gotten to this state? What could he do? Brooke could not be reasoned with. There had to be a way out.


There had to be.




Chapter 2



Jimbo sat in the heavy pickup, idling the engine as he chatted with Chuck standing outside. They were in the parking lot behind the dealership. The workday was over and they were both about to leave for home.


"So you'll come over at six?" asked Chuck.


"Sure. A free meal? Why not. I'm kinda curious too. You say she's nine feet tall - that's a lotta woman." Jimbo grinned as he looked at Chuck for his reaction.


But Chuck was stonefaced. "Yeah, that's why I invited you. She's too heavy for me to lift; it'll take both of us. And you got this big truck. Perfect for the job."


"If you say so."


Chuck nodded. "I do. So go home and get cleaned up. I'll get the food and then things oughta go like clockwork."


"Gotcha." Jimbo stepped on the gas and slowly rolled away as Chuck walked to his own car.


Later, Chuck pulled up in his own driveway with the food. He had doctored it in the store parking lot and it was ready for Brooke.


Just as he got out from the car, Jimbo pulled to the curb. The two men gathered up the food and entered the house. Chuck walked inside first. "Brooke?" he called out. " I have a surprise. Jimbo's here - I invited him over."


They found Brooke sitting on the living room floor. By now she had outgrown the couch and half lay in a pile of blankets and pillows. She was slightly unkempt and was not expecting company.


"Oh my God," she said when she saw Jimbo. "You really should have called."


Chuck spoke in a too-kind tone. "Sorry, hon. But look, we brought food. No cooking tonight."


Brooke relaxed a bit as she surveyed the many bags. "Cool. So remind me, Jimbo, what do you do? Detailing?"


"No ma'am. I'm the lot attendant. Move cars around, sometimes drive 'em from place to place."


Chuck began to set the food out at the table in the adjoining room. "Hon, you eat first. Jim and I aren't that hungry." Jimbo gave Chuck a quizzical look. Brooke heaved herself up and walked toward the table in a hunched over position.


The two men sipped beers as Brooke ate. Neither man could believe how much she could put away. Finally, Brooke pushed herself from the table, gave a satisfied burp, and smiled at the two men. Her eyes were heavy with sleep.


"Excuse me. I'm gonna go lie down." She headed for the stairway leading to their bedroom.


"Brooke, wait! You can rest right there in the living room. Here, I'll get you set up." Chuck rushed around spreading out the blankets and setting pillows in a strategic spot for her head. Brooke was all for it.


"Nice. Thanks, honey." She lumbered over to her husband, kissed his cheek and flopped down on the makeshift bed.


Chuck watched her carefully. "Jimbo, lets go get a snack."


The men grabbed two more beers from the fridge, and, avoiding the food that Chuck had brought home, ate cheese and crackers. "Not quite was I was expecting," said Jimbo in a low voice.


Chuck nodded. "Sorry pal. But we got work to do."


When they returned to the living room Brooke was out cold. With Chuck giving the orders the two men moved the large woman as far as the front door. Getting her through would be no problem, except that it was still light. Once darkness fell they could maneuver her outside with less chance of being seen.


By eight o'clock all was dark and phase two of the plan began. Jimbo had backed his truck to the front door and they both heaved her into the back. Then they placed a heavy tarp around her and tied it down with well-placed ropes.


Chuck climbed into the passenger seat. "Let's head out. I'll give you directions along the way."


"Okay. You know, I feel funny about this. She could find her way back. Ever think of that?"


"Yeah. But I bet she don't. And hey, she's a freak. She won't want to attract attention to herself. Whatever happens to her, I don't care, long as she stays away from me."


And with that, Chuck and Jimbo drove off to dump the nine-foot woman in the corn.



Three hours later Jimbo dropped the exhausted Chuck off at his driveway. The last thing Chuck said was "Not a word to anyone, right?"


"Right," replied the man in the truck. "See ya."


Chuck gave an unseeing wave and staggered into the house. He was about to crawl upstairs and into bed when a sudden noise jolted him off his feet. It was the kitchen phone.


He looked at the clock - 11:10 p.m. Who the hell could be calling this late? It might be Brooke! But then Chuck shook his head. Impossible. He walked into the kitchen, and trembling slightly, picked it up.


"Hi," a female voice said. "Could I speak to Brooke? Sorry it's so late."


Chuck was perplexed. "Brooke ain't here. I'm her husband - what can I help you with?"


"Oh. Well, my name is Brenda and we used to work together. She called today when I was out and left an odd message on my machine. Something about growing - I didn't quite get it."


Chuck was thinking fast. What to tell this woman? She was waiting for an answer, and it had to be good.


"Brooke, um, went to visit her mother. I'll tell her you called."


There was a pause, then Brenda said, "That's odd. She said she'd be in tonight and all day tomorrow. I do want to talk to her."


"I'll give her the message." He was about to hang up when a thought struck him. "By the way, are you...have you...are you any taller than usual?" His heart thumped as he waited for the answer.


"Yes. I don't know how you knew, but I'm usually 5'7". Today I'm just over seven feet. And right now I'm starving. Hey, would you like to..."


Chuck hung up the phone and panted until the panic went away. He went upstairs, pulled the covers over his head and fell into a nervous sleep.



It was an early Iowa morning, gray-blue skies, the cawing of some crows in the distance, and acres upon acres of half-grown corn. And right in the middle of one field, a nine-foot naked woman was just coming to.


Brooke's mouth was dry and her eyes were caked. She sat up. Her body had squashed a sizable expanse of corn - evidently she had spent the night here. But no one else was around.


"What the..." Brooke muttered as she got her bearings. She noticed tire tracks in the fertile soil and a path of flattened corn that seemed to lead to a road. She stood up to find the road. Yes, there it was. But what was that slow-moving object coming down the road, towards Brooke?


A tractor. A tractor with a man at the wheel.


She tried a tentative wave, then glanced down at herself. My God, she thought. What's he going to think? And then she realized she was not only hungry and thirsty, bet needed to pee. She started to wave more openly now. The man spotted her and stopped.



Hank, the young farmer about to start his workday, had just seen the strangest scarecrow of his life. A sexy female one that moved. It was waving to him now. Stunned, he slowed to a stop and took a minute to think.


He looked at the flattened corn. Someone had obviously driven over his corn, deep into the field, and then departed. The woman might know who. For this reason, he put his tractor in gear, left the road, and followed the path that led to her.


As he got closer he grew more incredulous. She was beautiful, she was naked, and she was huge. He knew for a fact that they didn't grow women that tall here. Or anywhere else. Was she an alien? Only one way to find out.


He stopped the engine about twenty feet from her, got off, and stood silently for a few seconds. Words did not come, so he waited for her to say something.


"I know this looks odd," Brooke began. "But I'm not usually this big. I'm not sure how I got here, but I have a good guess. I could really use your help, if you're not scared to death yet."


Actually he was scared. He wasn't sure he could outrun or even outfight this colossus. Her voice was kind and sweet, though - he liked the sound of it. And she was easy on the eyes.


"Tell you what. Follow me back to the house and I'll see what I can do."


Brooke nodded, relieved. Hank started the tractor, turned it around, and slowly led the giantess toward his house.



Hank invited her inside, found a pile of blankets and clean sheets for her, and excused himself. He needed to finish some chores, and told her he'd be back for lunch. "Make yourself at home," he said, smiling. Then he left.


Brooke went upstairs and found the place airy and high ceilinged. She filled the bathtub with hot, soapy water and gave herself a sponge bath. She then went downstairs and arranged the sheets around her hips and breasts. In the end she looked a bit like a Roman goddess.


She should have rested at that point, but she had a nervous energy. She was also hungry, but decided to wait for Hank to return before eating. Looking around at the large living room, kitchen and wide front porch, she wondered who else might live there. But there was only evidence of Hank.


Only then did she spread out the blankets and get comfortable in them. She grabbed one of Hank's magazines and settled down to read. It was just past ten o'clock.



Chuck was having a rough day. Just before he left for work, Brenda had called again. He let the machine pick up. The gist of the message was that she wanted to see Brooke, or Chuck, or both of them as soon as possible.


Now, as he mechanically went about his work, he worried about this new complication. Someone else knew Brooke was gone. It would look bad if she didn't return. Brenda might make trouble, might even visit. He started having little daydreams about being chased by tall, oversexed, athletic women and being kept as a sex slave as the women grew and grew. He knew it was ridiculous. But still...


When he got home that night, there were two more messages from Brenda. One of the messages was almost a repeat of the first, but the third was a bit calmer. The time stamp was just after two p.m. She seemed to know Brooke wasn't there and directed her message at Chuck. "I'll be dropping by sometime tonight," she promised.


Chuck reacted to this bombshell by calling Jimbo.


When he came on the line, Chuck did a high-speed recitation of what had happened since the previous night. "And now this other giant weirdo is coming here! What do I do? What if she wants me? Man, I knew I should have started working out."


"Take it easy," said Jimbo. "It's just a woman. You said she was seven feet? You could take her. Or you can just avoid her. Pretend you're not home. All the lights out - you know. Otherwise you could stay in a motel."


This idea appealed to Chuck. Hide away until the smoke cleared. But then he realized it was no good. He had to confront this woman now, not later when she was as big as Brooke. Yes, he thought, better to settle this now.


So the talk had done some good. Chuck thanked Jimbo, hung up and went about making his dinner. He would go about his normal routine and hey, if she showed, she showed.


He sat in his favorite chair, the sound on his television kept low, until late. The tension was unbearable. Every little noise made him jump. Finally at 11:30 he scanned his front yard, locked the door and went up to bed.


Brenda never did show up that night.




Chapter 3



At noon Hank had come back and made lunch for the two of them. He asked her how hungry she was. "Very," she replied. So he basically emptied his freezer and cooked at much as he could. Leftovers could be used for supper.


He sat and watched the nine-foot toga-clad woman eat and eat and eat. He made a mental note to go food shopping - and soon.


She seemed to be more comfortable among the blankets in the living room, so they went there after lunch and talked.


"Is there someone you'd like to call," Hank asked.


"There's someone I'd like to flatten. But I don't want to talk to him just yet. Maybe I'll try Brenda again."


"Brenda? A friend of yours?"


"Not exactly. But we worked together, and there's a chance she might have grown - like me."


"I see." Actually the thought of other giantesses out there was incomprehensible to Hank. But this girl needed help. He pointed her to his cordless phone.


Brooke dialed the number. Brenda answered and the two women had a long conversation. Hank didn't want to eavesdrop, so he pretended to tidy up the place while stealing glances at his attractive houseguest. Once or twice he caught sight of an exposed breast or upper thigh, but he didn't stare. Finally he went out to the kitchen and cleaned the dishes. When he returned, Brooke was off the phone.


He sat on a wooden rocking chair and waited.


"Well, that was interesting," she began. "Brenda's growing too, and she's already called my house twice. She talked to Chuck last night, tried to get some information from him and he lied his ass off. Then he hung up on her. She tried again early this morning when Chuck was home, but the skunk didn't answer. He must be avoiding her - the coward.


"I told her where I lived - and where to find the spare key - so she could go over there and confront him. But she had a better idea. Brenda wants to play with him by leaving messages and threatening to come over, then keeping him waiting. That's perfect. Later, we'll decide what other tricks we can play. Chuck will drive himself bonkers - with a little help from Brenda and me."


"And me, too?" Hank asked hopefully.


Brooke smiled. "You want to help me? That's very kind, but you hardly know me. Are you sure?"


Hank returned the smile, studied the young giantess and replied, "Definitely."


They sat and talked the afternoon away. Brooke and Hank traded stories until there were very few secrets between them. And all the time, Brooke shifted closer to Hank, sometimes touching his arm for emphasis or because she felt like it. Each touch was like electricity to Hank.


Hank had to attend to some business outside, then came back at dinnertime. Brooke brought out the leftovers and lit a few candles. The utilitarian farm kitchen took on a whole new atmosphere. This time there was little conversation. Both were tired, especially Brooke, and soon Hank showed her a guestroom to sleep in. It was right next to his own bedroom.


Before turning in, Brooke stopped Hank in the hallway, leaned over and kissed his cheek. He flushed, turned into his bedroom and gently closed the door.



When Chuck came home the next day, a new surprise awaited him: a note from Brenda on his kitchen table:



Dear Chuck,


I enjoyed talking with you on the phone. Sorry I missed you last night - you know we big girls are very busy. I was out when I bumped into your friend Jimbo. One thing led to another and well, we ended up at my place. The poor guy ended up missing work!


(This was true. Jimbo did not report for work that day.)


Anyway, there's no reason you and I can't get together. I think we'd really hit it off.


See you tonight, lover.





At the bottom of the note were Brenda's lip prints - a gaudy red display spreading roughly six inches wide.


Chuck looked around wildly, as if she might have materialized in the last few seconds.

She had been inside! How the hell did she get in? And what if she comes back?


"To hell with this," said Chuck to himself. "I'm outta here." And he scrambled upstairs to pack an overnight bag.


On his way out, reason asserted itself. Maybe he wasn't losing his mind. He decided to call Jimbo.


"Yeah, it's true," Jimbo said. "Somehow she happened to be in my neighborhood. She knocked and I answered. She told me her car had died. Pretty girl, and tall as a basketball player. I couldn't turn her away."


Chuck was flabbergasted. "Then what?"


"I tried her car's ignition and it started right up. She was nervous about it, though, and asked me to follow her home. Once we got there, things just...took their own course. I didn't get home until this afternoon."


"And the sex? How was it."


Jimbo chuckled. "Well, you oughta know, buddy. Let's just say I got the workout of my life."


Chuck did know. The sex was great - to a point. Then it just got scary. Jimbo, he knew, would change his tune sooner or later.


"Jimbo, I'm staying at the motel near the lake. Don't tell her where I am. I have the feeling she wants to add me to her collection."


"Okay, pal. Maybe you're right. She was insatiable."



The next few days for Brooke and Hank took on a comfortable routine. They ate their meals together and Brooke puttered around the place while Hank attended to farming. She even strolled around outside, always on the lookout for passing cars. But Hank lived far from town and traffic was minimal.


Night times were both intimate and fun. They would play games, watch videos or just talk. Hank would marvel at how Brooke clothed herself in his sheets; she made them stylish somehow. And she got a little careless, showing a bit more of her body each day. Hank didn't mind at all.


Around nine o'clock one night, as they both lay around the living room, chatting, Hank asked a question.


"Anything new with Brenda and your husband?"


Brooke smiled. "Oh yes. She tracked him down to a motel by the lake. Jimbo told her where he was - she must have been very persuasive. She drove there one night and left a note under Chuck's windshield. They still haven't met each other, but Brenda always makes sure her presence is felt."


"Ha! I wish I could have seen his face."


"Me too. Maybe one of these days he'll leave town for good."


Hank frowned. "Hmm. That wouldn't be so much fun. I do have an idea, though. Want to hear it?"


Brooke's face lit up with interest. "Sure."


In a conspiratorial whisper, he explained the scheme he'd been thinking over the past few days. Hank's plan was to get Brenda to borrow Jimbo's truck and use it to kidnap Chuck. She would drive him to Hank's place. Brenda would stay with Brooke while Hank took Chuck to a faraway location. Exactly where was a secret; Hank wanted to surprise them.


Brooke's grin widened as Hank talked. When he finished, Brooke was radiant.


"Go for it, farm boy. I'll arrange everything"


They went off to their beds soon after - but not before a sensual goodnight kiss.



The next day Brooke told Brenda, who loved the idea. That night, Brenda lay in wait at the motel until Chuck got back from work. She knocked on his door and in a bored monotone, said "Pizza delivery."


The door opened. Chuck opened his mouth to refuse the unordered pizza but stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Brenda. He tried to close the door. Too late. Brenda used her foot to keep the door open and followed Chuck inside. At nearly eight feet, she easily overpowered him, then tied him up and carried him to the truck.



The meeting in Hank's yard was a happy one. The two giantesses hugged, a startling and wonderful vision to the spare farm man, and then Hank made Brenda's acquaintance. She wrapped him in a friendly hug until he almost passed out.


She looked guiltily at Brooke. "Oops - sorry."


"Hey, he'll get used to it. Right, honey?"


Hank smiled shyly and made his way to the truck. "I'd better be off, ladies. Before I go, Brooke, do you want a peek at your husband?" Chuck was in the truck bed, roped and duct taped.


Brooke made a face, then shook her blonde hair. "Naw. Off you go."



It was after midnight before Hank returned. The ladies were still in conversation mode when the farmer pulled into the yard. He came inside, a weary satisfaction on his face.


Brooke asked first. "So tell us, Hank. We're dying to know. What did you do with him?"


"Well." he began. "Just think. Chuck took you to a cornfield. Lots of corn here in Iowa. But there's a lot of something else here, too. Pigs. Thousands of them. So I thought Chuck might like to hang out with a few."


Brenda covered her mouth. "You don't mean to say..."


Hank nodded. "Yep. Took the young man to one of our biggest hog farms, two counties away. He'll spend the night there. Left him tied up, of course. Hope he enjoys his stay."


Brooke broke out some champagne and poured for three. "Too bad Jimbo's not here to enjoy this. But maybe you'll tell him the story one day."


A wistful look crossed Brenda's face. "Yes, maybe. Once we get to know each other better. That might be not far off. Did I tell you? He's got a thing for big girls."


Brooke looked at Hank and took his hand in hers. Their eyes met.


"He's not the only one," said Brooke.

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