Dawn of the Amazon

Dawn of the Amazon

Dawn of the Amazon (very tentative title)

By The Wordmaster

An Undisclosed Location

Thursday, April 11

Time Unknown

----------------------------------

Dr. Linda Morris carefully calibrated the electron field. If her calculations

were correct, exposing the serum she had developed to the proper amount of

radiation would yield the formula the Department of Agriculture had been seeking

for years: a miracle drug that would increase the world's food supply.

Unfortunately for Dr. Morris, and the entire world for that matter, strange

doings were about to transpire, as they usually do at the most inopportune

times. As Linda worked busily, she was overcome by her seasonal allergies and

heaved a mighty sneeze, splattering a minute amount of the growth serum into the

air. These tiny drops, which would not usually pose a threat, struck a passing

fruit fly, a species of insect which, as any college Bio student can tell you,

is prone to variations in its genetic makeup. Flying in a slightly more erratic

manner than before, and already taking on a fiendish green glow, the fruit fly

exited the lab's open window.

Meanwhile, Dr. Morris continued her experiments, unaware of the terrible

tragedy she had inflicted upon all mankind...

The Everglades, Florida

Saturday, May 25

3:13 PM EST

-------------------------------

"The Everglades is well-known for its wide variety of plant and animal life,"

droned the tour guide. "To your left, you can see a large stretch of

uninteresting swampland. To your right, a slightly smaller stretch of equally

uninteresting swampland."

As the tour guide continued his speech, Mrs. Marla J. Hubberts turned to her

husband. "This is the stupidest vacation you've taken us on yet, Walter! When we

said we wanted to go to Florida, we meant Disneyland, not..." at a loss for

words, she gestured at the steaming wilderness around the boat. "This!" she

concluded. "It's a hundred and ten degrees, humid beyond belief, and I am

miserable!"

"Mama! Mama!" interrupted the youngest of the Hubberts brood, little Amy. "Sumfin'

bit me!" She lifted her arm to her mother, exposing a raised red welt. A

sinister looking green fly buzzed away from the scene as Marla inspected her

five year old daughter's injury.

"There, you see, Walter? This vacation has been nothing but trouble! Your

little girl is going to die of malaria before this week is up, mark my words!

And another thing..." her tirade stopped short as she heard a tearing sound,

almost like fabric ripping.

All eyes on the boat turned towards little Amy, who suddenly didn't seem so

little after all....

Atlanta, Georgia

Monday, May 27

11:17 AM EST

-----------------------

"Please take this time to locate the emergency exit nearest to your seat,"

Allison continued her safety lecture, keeping her phony stewardess smile

plastered on as she spoke. "In case of a water landing, your seat cushion may be

used as a floatation device. Should the need arise -- OUCH!" She slapped at the

insect that had bitten the back of her neck. Already a large welt was forming.

Somewhat dizzily, she continued her speech, but her breathing was constricted as

her uniform seemed to tighten around her. "E-excuse me..." she mumbled.

She staggered down the aisle, stumbling over her high heels, which suddenly

seemed a few sizes too small. Heads turned to follow her slowly swelling form.

Her skirt rose higher and higher up her thighs, revealing her more than shapely

legs. A sudden POP! rang out through the cabin as a button flew off her blouse.

Her expanding chest quickly sent more buttons spraying outwards. Passengers

shielded themselves from the hail of fasteners, then gaped in amazement as

Allison's head bumped the cabin's ceiling. Her clothing hung from her nearly ten

foot frame in rags.

The passengers stared at the giant stewardess. The giant stewardess stared at

the passengers, then fainted dead away. The plane shook when her body hit the

floor.

Montgomery, Alabama

Thursday, May 30

9:47 PM EST

-------------------------------

"C'mon, baby! Just a little lovin' fer good luck!" Biff Strickland rubbed his

callous hands along his girlfriend's shoulders, inching them downwards towards

her bountiful breasts, hidden beneath her cheerleader outfit. "Alabama State's

football tryouts are tomorrow, and I wanna be in top condition. So... how's

about a little late night exercise?" He leaned in for a kiss.

Amber turned away, staring out the passenger side window of Biff's car. "Aw,

lay off, Biff. I'm not in the mood."

Biff growled, his thick football player's neck tensing up. "Amber, I'm only

gonna ask once." He leaned in close, his beery breath making her cringe. "Then

I'm gonna get mean."

Amber suddenly flinched. "Ow! Damn bugs!"

"Quit stallin' and gimme some sugar," Biff demanded. He grabbed Amber and

pulled her across his lap, pressing his lips into hers. She struggled as he

fumbled with her top, causing him to laugh. His laughter died, however, as her

struggles grew increasingly more powerful. Before he knew it, Amber's enormous

body filled his car, and he was staring directly into his girlfriend's gigantic

face.

"Well, well, little Biff," she chuckled, grabbing him around the waist.

"Still want a little 'exercise'?"

Biff's terrified screams echoed throughout the parking lot, mingling with his

titanic girlfriend's moans of pleasure.

The White House

Sunday, June 2

10:13 PM EST

----------------------------

"Mr. President! Mr. President!"

mumble... moan...

"Mr. President! Wake up, sir!"

mmf... mumble....

"Sir! Something terrible has happened! There's been another report of a

mysterious, unexplainable growth!"

"Wha? No, no! It can't be!"

"I'm afraid so, sir. What do you suggest?"

"This is too big a problem for any of our people to handle. We need a... a...

superhero! Yeah, that's it! A superhero! Quick, get me Washington's list of

superheroes!"

"Umm... yes sir."

The presidential aide left the bedroom of G.W. shaking his head. "We're

doomed."

The Library Of Congress

Sunday, June 2

10:42 PM EST

---------------------------------

"Superheroes? He wants superheroes?" the head archivist asked incredulously.

"That's what he said," replied the aide, rubbing the bridge of his nose,

trying to ease his migraine headache. Working directly for the President was

beginning to take its toll on him.

"Did you tell him that superheroes don't really exist?"

"I don't think that would help."

The archivist sighed. "All right, I'll see what I can dig up."

The Library Of Congress

Sunday, June 2

11:51 PM EST

--------------------------------

"Well, here's a list of everyone with a superhero-sounding name I could find on

the Internet."

"Thanks. I'll deliver this to the President right away."

"Yeah, sure. And while you're there, try to get rid of his comic book

collection."

The White House

Monday, June 3

12:19 AM EST

------------------------------

"How about this one, sir? Action Jackson?"

"No, no, doesn't have quite the ring a true superhero needs. Y'know, like

Superman. Says everything you need to know right in his first name: he's a man,

and he's super." President Bush mused a bit. "Superman isn't available, is he?"

"Dear God, sir!" shouted the aide. "Would you just pick somebody?"

"Fine, fine," grumbled G.W. "Get me..." he ran his finger down the printout,

stopping at random. Reading the name, he paused a most dramatic pause.

"The Wordmaster..."

Chicago, IL

Monday, June 3

3:41 PM CST

--------------------------------

I was awakened from my much-deserved afternoon nap by a sharp rapping at the

door. I heaved an agitated sigh. If they weren't interrupting my afternoon nap,

they were interrupting my morning nap. Or my evening nap. Or my post-breakfast

siesta. A growing boy needs his sleep, and although I wasn't growing at the

moment, it's always best to be prepared for anything. Grumbling, I made my way

to the front door where I was greeted by two men wearing dark sunglasses and

three piece suits, practically carbon copies of each other. If I were one of

those paranoid, X-files watching, Dungeons & Dragons playing, dateless losers,

my brain would be yelling "CONSPIRACY! GOVERNMENT COVERUP!" As it was, I had

more realistic things on my mind.

"Well, hey there little fellas!" I began. "A bit early for today's signing,

aren't we? Well, lemme go get my autograph pen..."

"Are you The Wordmaster?" the one on the left interrupted.

"Who wants to know?" I grinned haughtily.

The two exchanged glances, then coldcocked me.

O'hare Airport

Monday, June 3

6:02 PM CST

---------------------

"OK," I began, exasperated, gingerly running my fingertips over the huge bump

forming on my head. "Run this by me once more."

"America needs your help. What we are about to tell you is for your ears

only," started the agent on the left.

"The Department of Agriculture, seeking a serum that would increase the size

of fruits and vegetables, mistakenly allowed the viral strain to escape, and now

it's spreading, causing those infected by it to grow to approximately twice

their normal size," continued the agent on the right.

We hustled through the airport, heading for our flight to Washington.

"And what exactly does that have to do with me? I mean, aside from involving

giant women."

"You've been singled out by President Bush himself as just the superhero

needed to stop this impending crisis."

"Superhero?" I asked, dumbfounded. Now, I'm not the kind of person who

generally follows politics, but from what I'd seen on SNL, Georgie Bush wasn't

the brightest bulb in the... um... how does that one go? Well, you know what I'm

trying to say. "Look, you got the wrong guy! I'm no superhero, I'm an author.

See, WORD-master. Get it?" I chuckled at my own display of wit.

One thing you learn real fast about government agents: they have little or no

sense of humor. They exchanged another glance, then coldcocked me again.

***

I awoke in a white room. A very white room. Everything, the walls, the floor,

the ceiling, the chair I sat in, was a staggeringly bright white. I looked

around for some clue as to where I was, but some joker had replaced the handy

setting headers with three asterisks. Looks like I was in the dark for a while.

I rose, running my hands along the walls, looking for a door. Whoever

designed this room sure made it pretty hard to find the exit. After inspecting

all the walls, I found no trace of any hinges, any knobs, any seams, or any way

in or out. Wait a second! My fingers had encountered a small imperfection. I

leaned in closer, trying to identify it as a secret switch or a --

SLAM!

Safety tip: if you're not sure where the door is, don't go leaning in close

to walls. Odds are, it's gonna end up being right under your forehead.

I staggered back, clutching my throbbing head, as two men in labcoats entered

the room.

"Mr. Wordmaster, sir? Are you all right?" they exclaimed, rushing to my side.

"Just fine," I managed to choke out.

"Excellent. Let's get you down to the lab."

I was marched down a long hallway and into a bustling lab. Scientists, all

clad in identical white lab coats, tinkered endlessly on their little projects.

I was taken before one doctor, a stunningly beautiful brunette, and introduced.

"Dr. Morris, meet The Wordmaster."

She extended her hand. "Pleased to meet you. I understand you'll be saving

the world."

I shook her hand, grinning sheepishly. "Well, that's what they tell me. I'm

really gonna need a lot of help."

She smiled winningly. "Well, that's why I'm here. You've been briefed, I

assume?"

"Pretty much. Some pathetic excuse for a scientist let some growth virus

escape, and now everybody's in a tizzy trying to find a cure."

Dr. Morris's smile slipped. "Well, more or less. It's not really a virus,

it's an insect spread condition, not contagious unless through a certain breed

of fly. We do need a cure, which you're in charge of finding for us. And as for

that 'pathetic excuse for a scientist'," she paused dangerously. "That was me."

Gulp. "Geez, did I say 'pathetic excuse'? I meant, um, shining... example?"

Dr. Morris smirked. "Don't apologize. It was quite careless of me. But, back

to the matter at hand. What we need you to do is find one of the infected

persons, draw a blood sample," here she held up a rather large hypodermic

needle, "and bring it back to the lab."

"A blood sample? Might that be a bit... dangerous?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Extremely. Thus far, every infected person has been

very unwilling to cooperate. That's why we're going to equip you with the best

we've got." She snapped her fingers. "Boys?"

My two escorts materialized, carrying an impossibly large amount of...

well... I wasn't quite sure what it all was.

"Now, here we have what appears to be an ordinary black leather trenchcoat.

In fact, it is bulletproof, waterproof, flameproof, and to a certain extent,

crushproof. It also comes with a wide variety of pockets to hold the numerous

other toys we'll be giving you. All of which," he leveled a serious gaze at me

before continuing, "are on LOAN, and are to be returned in full working order at

the completion of your mission."

He and his companion went down the line of equipment: sunglasses featuring

both X-ray and Infrared vision modes; gloves with the latest in micro-fiber

technology, able to grip any surface; boots guaranteed to never leave

footprints; a package of small, yet extremely powerful explosives disguised as

Tic Tacs; a high-power laser beam disguised as a ballpoint pen; and anything

else they thought might come in handy. They urged me to try on the complete

ensemble. When all was said and done, I looked like a five year old kid dressed

up as Keanu Reeves in the Matrix for Halloween.

"Have you guys ever heard of the concept of subtlety? I mean, don't you think

I'll draw quite a bit of attention in this get up?"

Dr. Morris shot me a withering look. "It was either this or the spandex

leotard and a cape."

"Oh, cool! I could've had a cape?"

"Do you want a cape?"

"If I'm gonna be a superhero, I'm gonna need a cape. Or at least a utility

belt."

"Oh, we've got something even better than a utility belt!" Exclaimed a

passing technician. With a great flourish, he produced two bright yellow elastic

bands with alligator clips on the ends.

I stared for a moment. "What the hell are these?"

"Utitlity suspenders! They perform essentially the same function as a utility

belt, but with twice the carrying capacity. Plus, they're quite stylish!"

I looked back and forth between the suspenders and the technician's grinning

face. Finally, I shouted at the top of my lungs: "Has anyone in this lab ever

heard of a little thing called 'Fashion Sense'?"

***

I was hustled outside to a sleek, black limo which was to take me to my

destination. Once there, my mission was clear: Find a giant person, stick them

with a big needle, pull out some blood, and return to the lab.

I said it was clear, not easy.

Amber Dudzak's House

Montgomery, Alabama

Wednesday, June 5

1:36 PM EST

-------------------------------

According to the list of known growth instances, Amber Dudzak was one of the

earlier cases. And we all agreed that it would be smartest to track down those

who had had time to adjust to their new heights. With that in mind, I knocked on

the solid oak door, waiting for someone to answer.

"Let's see," I murmered to myself. "How does one address a ten foot tall

cheerleader? 'Hello, Amber, my name is The Wordmaster. Might I trouble you for a

pint of blood?' No, that's no good. 'Gee, Amber, you look like you could stand

to lose a little weight.' No, that's probably not a good idea. Hmmm.... 'Hey,

Amber, whaddaya say we get down, get nasty, and get it on?' Hey, I am a

macrophile, after all."

It suddenly occured to me that I had been standing on the Dudzak's front

porch for over five minutes now, well beyond the time it usually takes a family

to answer the door. I knocked again. Another long wait, but still no answer. I

shifted my weight nervously, took some deep breaths, and rationalized that since

I was now a secret agent, breaking and entering really didn't apply to me. Then

I kicked the door down.

Entering the Dudzak's was reminiscent of wandering onto the set of Fight

Club. The house was in complete disrepair. Lamps were smashed, furniture was

overturned, very large holes were gouged into the walls. All in all, it was

plain that somebody had gotten extremely angry and extremely violent. Given the

extent of the damage, that somebody could only be Amber herself. I began my

search for any survivors or witnesses and was not disappointed. Huddled in the

hall closet, bound and gagged and trembling in fear, were Mr. and Mrs. Dudzak.

Amber Dudzak's House

Montgomery, Alabama

Wednesday, June 5

2:43 PM EST

-------------------------------

"...and then she stomped out of the house. We haven't seen her since," concluded

Mr. Dudzak, gently rubbing his sobbing wife's shoulders.

"So, let me see if I've got this straight," I began, scribbling furiously in

my notebook. "Amber came home from her date with Biff. She seemed unusually

happy and unusually... ahem... tall. She stayed here for a week, during which

she displayed much more self-confidence and strong-willed behavior than normal.

All right so far?"

Mrs. Dudzak nodded. "She was such a sweet girl," she said brokenly. "But then

this happened and she changed so much. She made us... do things for her." She

shuddered. "It was like we were nothing to her."

I nodded. "Well, that seems understandable. A ten foot teenage girl isn't

likely to pay her parents much mind."

"Anyway, after we refused some of her more... outrageous demands, she

exploded. She locked us in the closet and took off. That was three days ago."

Mr. Dudzak wore a look of terror and worry. "Please," he locked eyes with me.

"Bring my daughter back."

I stared at the forlorn parents for a moment. "I'll do my best."

Montgomery, Alabama

Wednesday, June 5

8:47 PM EST

-------------------------------

It had taken quite some time, but after a brief investigation of the town I

discovered two other families in similar situations. Their daughters had been

bitten by the bug and they had lost all respect for authority. I shook my head

as I strode purposefully down the street. Kids these days. Each family told the

same story as the Dudzaks: their daughter had disappeared to parts unknown. It

had taken hours of searching and more than a little palm greasing, but I finally

got a lead as to where the titanic teens could be hiding out. And so, I made my

way to the local abandoned warehouse, reflecting on the fact that if cities

would only eliminate these warehouses, they would eliminate a good deal of

crime.

I reached my destination as the sun was dipping below the horizon. Crumbling

brick walls hunkered dejectedly in the shadows, framing a heavy door made of

rusted metal. To the left of the door, a yellowed piece of paper fluttered in

the gentle breeze. "Ring bell for entry," it read. I cocked my head, staring at

the doorbell beneath the note. I was equipped with the latest in spy technology,

able to break into any impenetrable fortress, and the enemy was just inviting me

in? This would never do. After a bit of pondering, I came up with a plan.

I slunk around the building, keeping in the shadows, humming the "Mission:

Impossible" theme all the while. Once I reached the back, I turned to face the

wall before me. Pressing my gloved hands against the cracked bricks, I felt the

microfibers woven into the leather grip the rough surface. I pulled upwards,

lifing my body off the ground. Changing my tune to the theme from Spiderman, I

continued climbing the vertical face of the building.

"Spiderman, Spiderman! Does whatever a spider can! Umm... something,

something, la da da da da dee da..." I let my song trail off, partly because I

was on the roof. Dirty plate glass windows leaned heavily against their frames,

smoke swirled around the roof, and I could just make out a muffled voice coming

from inside. I wiped some of the grime off a window and peered in. Bingo! The

trio of amazonian girls was directly below me, squabbling over something. Their

faint voices reached my ears as I wracked my brain trying to remember what I had

learned about them from their families.

"I dunno, Amber, is this really such a good idea?" This question came from a

young, delicate Asian girl, Karen Huang, aged 18. She stood 5' 4" before being

infected, which meant she was now a solid 10' 8". She wore what appeared to be a

bedsheet wrapped around her as a makeshift toga. It did nothing to hide the fact

that beneath that fabric lurked some dangerous, delectable curves.

"Geez, Karen, lighten up. There's nothing to worry about!" These words

rumbled from the magnificent chest of a voluptuous redhead. Melissa, 11' 4",

bust size god-only-knows, was dressed in an old bathrobe. Designed for a large

man, she wore it as if it were a tiny teddy. The hem fell at her upper thigh,

and her prodigious chest prevented her from closing it entirely. Every time she

moved, tantalizing peeps of her cleavage shifted into view.

"Melissa's right, Karen. This town is practically ours already. Who's gonna

stop us?" Amber was apparently much more free with her body than her companions.

She made no attempt to cover her 11' 6" frame and stood completely naked, her

blonde hair cascading down her back, lightly brushing her soft ass cheeks as she

paced. Melissa and Karen seemed distracted by her nakedness, but for different

reasons. Melissa lowered her eyes in distaste, but Karen inched closer to

Amber's beautiful body. Slipping out of her toga, she wrapped her arms around

Amber's neck and leaned upwards for a passionate kiss.

"You're right, Amber. I was just a little nervous." She ground her breasts

against Amber's, causing the blonde to moan in pleasure.

"Soon, baby," she panted, "we'll be calling the shots." Her hand quested

southwards, gripping Karen's buttock and giving it a quick squeeze.

My eyes bugged out of my head and I bit my knuckles to keep from revealing

myself. Giant lesbians! It was a macrophile's dream come true! I slapped myself

to regain my senses. These women were a menace! It was my mission to find a cure

for their gigantism. And I wasn't about to let any peepshow distract me from --

dear lord! Those girls were limber! No, no! Stay focused. Keep it together. Get

in, get a sample, get out. Get in, get a sample, get out. I repeated this to

myself several times as I backed away from the window to get a running start.

Sprinting forwards, I leapt through the glass and plummeted earthwards.

I struck the ground heavily and quickly rolled to the side to avoid the

shower of falling glass shards. As I rose to my feet, brushing dust from my

overcoat, I saw the girls break apart in surprise.

"Good evening, ladies," I began in my smoothest tone. Motioning to Amber and

Karen, I said graciously, "Oh, please, don't let me interrupt."

Now, years of reading and writing giantess fiction does nothing to prepare

you for the real thing. These girls stood only eleven feet tall, a fraction of

the height of my fantasy women, yet as they walked towards me I practically

broke my neck trying to see their faces. I had expected joy and awe inspired by

beauty. Instead, I was trembling with fear. These girls could snap me like a

twig and think nothing of it. As they advanced, their pretty faces twisted into

grimaces of anger.

"Who the hell are you?" sneered Amber.

I drew myself up to my full, unimposing height. "They call me The Wordmaster.

I'm with..." I fumbled for a moment. CIA? FBI? I had no idea who sent me. "GTS!"

I sputtered, then winced. Man, that sounded stupid.

"Never heard of 'em," Karen glared at me.

"Not surprising," I deadpanned.

"What are you doing here?" pressured Melissa.

"Actually, I just need a quick blood sample from one of you." I drew the hypo

needle from my pocket and raised my eyebrows expectantly.

The three exchanged a glance I was getting very familiar with. I raised my

hands and gestured for them to wait. "Hold on a sec," I said, removing my

sunglasses and placing them in my coat pocket. Taking a few deep breaths, I

cracked my kneck and shot the girls a quick glance. "All right, I'm ready."

The giantesses shrugged, raised their fists, then brought them down on my

head.

Abandoned Warehouse

Montgomery, Alabama

Wednesday, June 5

Time Unknown

--------------------------------

I awoke in Melissa's crotch. My face was cradled between her pale thighs; her

fluffy red bush lay directly before my eyes. The pungent aroma of her womanhood

made my eyes water.

"So, you're awake," she smirked down at me over her naked breasts. "Hope you

slept well." Loud moans of pleasure reached my ears, and I struggled to see

where they were coming from. Melissa clamped her thighs tightly around my head,

preventing me from moving. "It's just Karen and Amber," she said. "They've been

having fun all night. It almost makes me want to join them. But now," she leaned

closer to me, her hot breath caressing the back of my neck. "I've got my own

little boy toy." She gave her thighs a powerful squeeze, causing me to let out a

muffled scream. "You know what I want."

Only somewhat reluctantly, I began to lap at the enormous pussy before me.

Melissa's already damp lips grew even wetter as my tongue darted and jabbed at

her clitoris. She began to writhe, grinding her sex into my face even as I

pressed myself closer so as to probe deeper into her cunt. Screaming and

moaning, she bucked her hips wildly, releasing some of the pressure on me. I

looked upwards at her O-face, rivulets of cum dribbling down my chin. As I

continued my ministrations, I craftily snuck my hand into my trenchcoat and

pulled the needle out. Reaching around her thighs, I jabbed the needle into her

plump buttock, increasing the tempo of my licks to distract her attention.

Melissa was so overcome by pleasure, she never noticed me pull roughly half a

pint of blood from her succulent ass. I hid the hypo in my coat again, pausing a

moment to savor the warmth of the liquid against my chest.

Abandoned Warehouse

Montgomery, Alabama

Thursday, June 6

3:32 AM EST

-------------------------------

All told, I brought Melissa to climax three times that night. Of course, she had

to tell Karen and Amber about my skills as a lap dog, so by the end of the night

my tongue was cramping up severely. At last, worn out past exhaustion, the three

girls curled up and went to bed. Somewhat groggily, the scent of pussy forever

imbedded in my clothes and nasal cavity, I quietly made my exit.

Undisclosed Location

Thursday, June 6

4:57 PM EST

------------------------------

"And that, my friends, is the tale of my daring escape," I concluded with a

flourish. The assembled scientists, all male, might I add, applauded my skill

with information gathering, breaking and entering, and most of all lovemaking.

"Yep," I sniffed. "It's not easy to please a titaness, let alone three. I

certainly can say that I was definitely the man for this job. Yessir, if ever a

giantess storms this place, you just tell her The Wordmaster's on duty. I

guarantee she'll go weak at the knees just hearing my name!" I glanced around at

my audience, which had grown strangely silent. Turning, I found myself face to

face with the beautiful, and apparently unimpressed, Dr. Linda Morris.

"Well, Mr. Wordmaster, sounds like you had quite a time. But we have more

important matters to discuss. Come with me." She began walking, and I couldn't

help but notice her ass sway rhythmically from side to side.

I looked up at one of the aides, shooting him a glance all men must learn to

be successful: the "does this chick dig me" glance. The aide shook his head,

mouthing the words 'ice queen'. I nodded sympathetically and continued following

Dr. Morris. Once we reached her office, she took a seat at her desk, styled

after so many famed CEO's desks: tall, heavy, solid mahogany, and, above all,

imposing. Before her sat a vial of glowing green liquid and the hypo full of

blood I had absconded with.

Dr. Morris gestured to the green liquid. "This is what started it all, Mr.

Wordmaster. A single drop of this serum is potent enough to double the size of

any infected. Could you imagine the effect of an entire vial?" Her long fingers

reached out and gently caressed the flask. I noticed for the first time how

delectable her hands were. Soft, delicate palms and long, well-manicured

fingers. My mind began wandering into its traditional fantasies. What would it

be like to sit in the palm of that hand? To feel those fingers caress me as they

caressed that vial? The warmth of her sking, the slight dampness of her

persperation. "Tempting, isn't it?"I started. Her eyes locked with mine. It was

almost as if she were reading my mind. "But of course drinking the growth serum

would be foolishness."

"Y-yeah," I stammered. "Foolishness."

She stared at me intently. "Do you know why I sent you for this?" She raised

the blood sample.

I looked about confusedly. "To find a cure."

"To find a cure," she laughed. "Now, why would I want to do that?" She rose

from her seat. "This serum is power, don't you see? Complete and utter power!

Well, not complete. For you see, Mr. Wordmaster, size isn't everything. Sure, to

be gigantic is one thing, to tower over my puny subjects, to have them obey my

every command. But it's just not practical. What would I eat? Where would I

bathe? What would I wear? Well, I suppose clothing would be optional." This kind

of talk was stirring up mixed feelings within me. Here was a beautiful woman

openly admitting she wanted to be a goddess, but I was morally obligated to

prevent this at any cost.

"Do you know what this blood could really do?" she asked me. I shook my head.

She continued to speak as she poured the sample into the vial of growth serum.

"This blood will unlock the true potential of the serum. The power not only to

grow, but to control that growth!" She circled around the desk and lay her hands

on my shoulders, beginning a deep massage. I flinched at her touch, but her

ministrations quickly soothed my raging mind. "I will be a giantess when

necessary, Wordmaster, dominating the earth, but reducing my stature to a more

manageable size when not crushing buildings or..." she leaned down to whisper in

my ear, "pleasuring my miniature lovers." My heart raced as she reached her hand

around me for the vial. She brought the flask to her lips. 'Stop her!' screamed

my mind, but I was paralyzed, transfixed with what was unfolding before me. She

tossed back the liquid in one gulp and began to grow.

Undisclosed Location

Thursday, June 6

7:20 PM EST

------------------------------

I found myself in the rubble that was once a bustling lab. The events of the

past hour were a jumble of mixed images and fuzzy memories. Dr. Morris had

grown, which I at first found extremely exciting. But when she didn't stop, I

grew frightened. At twenty feet, completely nude, she burst from her office and

began to hunt down lab technicians, crushing them under her massive feet,

squeezing them in her powerful fists, humiliating them and destroying them,

growing all the while. I fled, seeking safety, but there was no where to go. My

fantasy had taken a major blow. The cruelty of this woman was astonishing. She

rose and rose, through the roof, then through the clouds, then went stomping

towards the nearest city. Her parting words were simple, yet terrifying:

"SEE YOU REAL SOON!"

I cursed myself for not stopping her when I had the chance. How could I have

been so stupid? I had unleashed a terrible evil upon the world. And as I stood

there, in the smoking rubble that rested in one of her footprints, I vowed that

I would be the one to bring her down.

To be continued........

by you!

For those who haven't figured it out, this was meant to be an intro to my next

project: a multi-author composition story. I am inviting any and all authors to

help me write the conclusion to this story.

Here's a general outline: Picking up where this one left off, Dr. Morris goes

off and creates an army of giantesses. Realizing that GTS authors pose a

significant threat to her operation, she has them all kidnapped and imprisoned.

A daring escape scene follows, leading to the climactic final battle sequence.

Folks can write a scene where they're captured, in prison, whatever. Giantesses

can be gentle or violent. Sex scenes are welcome. Wherever you want to go, as

long as you have to. If you're interested, e-mail me at [email protected] for

confirmation. Act now, as this offer won't last long!

The Wordmaster

Dawn of the Amazon

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