Kathy

Kathy

Kathy, The Giantess Wife

By Scott Grildrig

Crack!

Kathy lifted a hand to her bruised cheek. Her red hair tussled about her face,

her blue eyes welling up with tears.

Dinner lay strewn across the floor.

Jeff, her husband, towered over her, his sour yeasty beer breath puffing into

her face. He raised his open hand. With a sob Kathy spun and fled. Jeff's

unrelenting string of obscenities pursued her up the stairs and into the

bedroom. Hurling herself across the bed, she burrowed into the pillows and

covers, sought refuge in blessed silence. But, muffled though it was, she heard

the noises downstairs. Jeff laughing. Jeff swearing. Things breaking. But,

mercifully, not the sound of heavy boots clumping up the stairs. She listened,

barely breathing. She heard him talking. After a long while she heard the front

door open and close, then the sound of a car driving away.

It was just another day for Kathy.

Jeff had owned her for years, dominated her, used her. And while at her very

core lived a last bastion of defiance, she had no power, no way to make her

needs known. She was young, in her mid-twenties, strong and hale in body, but

suffering in spirit. She didn't think she loved Jeff anymore, but she could not

think what she would do without him. Nor was her humiliation confined just to

her husband. Like a contagion it seemed to be all around her. Only yesterday the

new groundskeeper had exposed himself to her, as though he was something

different, something she should desire.

Well, she desired something, alright.

A life on her own terms. A power of her own to wield. And end to misery. Maybe

even hope for retribution. It wasn't much, but she had her dreams.

- = - = - = - = -

Three days a week, Kathy worked at the village library. It was humdrum,

mindless, and quiet. But she went about her job, examining new books, that were

dropped off by the dozens every week. On this particular day, there was one tome

that caught her attention immediately. First, it was old, maybe not rare old,

but old enough. It was bound in black leather, its pages were stiff and brittle,

and it eminated that mustiness peculiar to long storage.

Carefully, she opened it, and got her second surprise. It was a recipe book. A

cookbook, of sorts. No. A book of potions. She leafed through the pages. There

were balms for ailments, codials for stirring emotions, draughts for

transformations. Kathy stopped. Reading carefully she felt her heart fluttering

in her breast. She read it three times, before she dared believe a word of it,

then took the book to a nearby copier. After that she stored the book away in a

safe place, and left work early.

She had some shopping to do...

- = - = - = - = -

It took almost a week before she gathered all the ingredients, some of them were

very hard to find. And during that week her beatings became worse, almost as if

Jeff sensed her new resolve. Kathy endured him, but the rage was building within

her. Everything was riding on this potion. If it failed, she wasn't sure she

could go on living...

- = - = - = - = -

It was white opalescent liquid. It shimmered prettily in the little crystal

vial. She had enough for scores of applications. But for Jeff, she only needed a

drop. He roared for beer. Kathy brought him some, smiling demurely.

- = - = - = - = -

The transformation was swift.

The big man drank down his beer noisily, belched and tossed the can aside. She

watched him closely. He adjusted himself in the chair a few times, a puzzled

expression played over his face. When she saw him pluck at his clothes, his

loose fitting, voluminous shirt, her heart sang within her. Stepping in front of

him, hands on her hips she looked him over. Already he was smaller than she was.

"What the fuck's going on?" he demanded.

"Hmmmmmm?"

"I said! What the...oh god." he was down to about three feet tall, and the

process was going full swing now. Kathy watched him dwindle, smaller and

smaller, his clothes rising around him like cottony mountains. His voice soared

in pitch and faded in volume. When the potion's effect was complete he was only

a mere two inches tall, staring up in horrified astonishment at the smug

satisfaction on Kathy's face.

Jeff was a bug.

It took a moment to fully sink in, for her to understand it. The beatings, the

fear, all were in the past. The source of her misery was reduced to the size of

her thumb and cowering before her colossal presence. Kathy was suddenly filled

with a passionate desire to stomp Jeff out of existence, to crush him and grind

him into pulp. She trembled with the force of the feeling, her hands clenching

and unclenching. But she fought it down. The fear may have vanished, but the

rage remained and demanded utterance. She wanted revenge. Jeff was going to last

for a while before she gave into sweet temptation and squashed him.

Bending her knees, Kathy reached for Jeff, hesitated. He was screaming

obscenities, waving his arms. She completed her motion, wrapped her fingers

around him, and picked him up like a small mouse. He was naked, of course, and

warm in her hand. He writhed with insane strength, and she tightened her grip,

so as not to drop him. Then she carried him into the kitchen, sat down, and

placed him on the table before her.

Jeff took a punch at her fingers as she let him go. It was amusing, that being

to small he should dare to resist her. Kathy chuckled and poked at him with her

forefinger. He swatted at it, it was like hitting a tree trunk. She touched his

tiny chest with the tip of her finger. He back-pedalled, windmilling his arms

and sat down. Kathy was resting her chin low to the table, cupped within her

left fist. Her eyes were focused intently on her miniature husband.

Still using only her forefinger, she pressed upon his chest, forced him to lay

flat on the cold kitchen table. His vitriolic language continued unabated, and

she pushed down a little harder, blasting the air from his chest. His face was a

study in horror, as he choked and gasped for air. Kathy never took her eyes off

of him. Her tongue lolled over her great lips as she poked and prodded at him.

He fought back using his arms and legs, then curled up into a little ball.

Kathy rolled him around a bit, but this was boring.

"COME ON, JEFF UNROLL FOR ME." But he ignored her. "I'M NOT GONNA ASK YOU AGAIN,

LITTLE MAN..." she warned, "OPEN UP. NOW!!" and she smashed the table with her

fist, causing the fruit basket on the table to jump.

Jeff was on his feet in an instant, raw panic in his face, as he stared at her

colossal fist, resting upon the table. Kathy bared her teeth and smiled at him.

Raising her fist, which was the size of a small car to Jeff, she held it. Held

it. Then smashed the table again, knocking Jeff aside with the impact. Suddenly

there was a tiny puddle on the table between Jeff's tiny legs, and he was

trembling uncontrollably. Laughing gaily, she gave him no time to recover, again

and again she rocked the table with her fist.

Jeff howled and ran, shrieking every time the table leapt under his feet. Then

suddenly he ran into a huge warm wall. It was Kathy's open palm. She closed her

fingers into an 'O' around his tiny body, not holding him, but not letting him

escape. Reaching over him with her other hand, she rummaged in the fruit basket.

After a moment's searching she lifted out a small tomato.

Her eyes watched him intently as she raised it to her lips and nibbled at it

with her teeth. Then she wrapped her fingers around it, and laid her fist on the

table beside her other hand. Jeff could see the flesh of the tomato peeking

through her gargantuan fingers. He watched as she slowly closed her grip, her

fingers tautening and tightening. The tomato swelled under the pressure,

resisted her strength, then burst and split with a splurching, squelching sound.

Kathy kept squeezing, the pulp and seeds oozed through her fingers, a red puddle

formed under her hand. She smiled at him and licked her lips.

When she opened her hand, the smashed gooey remains of the tomato was stuck to

her palm and fingers. Jeff watched in moribund terror as Kathy raised her hand

to her mouth and cleaned it with her tongue. Her eyes stayed on him the entire

time. When she was done, she released him from her grasp. Smiled sweetly at him

and said.

"WOULD YOU LIKE YOUR TURN, LITTLE MAN?"

Jeff howled and collapsed into a heap.

Kathy's eyes were bright and alive, she was enjoying her sport. The soul searing

panic of her little husband filled her with a powerful desire. She wanted him to

suffer more, she wanted to humiliate him, to hear him beg for mercy, just so she

could deny it to him. Lust welling up within her, Kathy began unbuttoning her

blouse. Jeff did not like what happening, and he began to wail. Kathy smiled,

and slipped her blouse off, then she unhooked the clasp on the front of her bra,

and spilled her breasts atop the table.

She had nice breasts, big breasts.

Kathy kneaded her tits and stroked her nipples, her arousal was patently obvious

to Jeff. She left no doubt in his mind what would happen were he caught between

her huge tan breasts. Reaching out with her hand, she made a cage around him

with her fingers, then scooped him up. Raising him over her open mouth she poked

at him with her tongue, laughing at his panicky shrieks. Then she placed him

upon her right breast, astride her swollen nipple.

He was a pleasant little weight upon her breast. His legs gripped her nipple

tightly enough to stimulate her. Standing she raised her arms over her head.

"HANG ON, LITTLE JEFF." she purred, and began to sway back and forth. Jeff clung

to her for dear life. She watched him, laughed, and increased the vigor of her

motions. Her breasts swung back and forth, back and forth, until she caught the

rhythm and they began to jiggle wildly. She gasped and moaned as Jeff clamped

down with all his strength upon her nipple. His howls of fear only fuelled her

desire to dominate him with her body.

Suddenly he slipped and was flung away.

Kathy's reaction was instinctive. She snatched him out of the air, then checked

to see if she had squashed him. Jeff was dazed, but still unharmed. She smiled

and put him back on the table.

Looking down she unbuttoned her skirt, and let it fall to the floor. Her panties

were pink and lacy, shaped nicely across the gentle bulge of her moons. With a

mischievous giggle she picked Jeff up off the table, while with her other hand

she pulled the elastic forward. Pursing her lips she blew him a little kiss and

dropped him inside, then let the elastic snap back against her hips.

Jeff's tiny body made a delightful little bump against the front panel of the

material. She felt him shifting and wriggling in the lush tangle of her pubic

hairs. It was a delicious sensation, and she looked down between her spread

legs, watching him squirm against her crotch.

Looking up she noticed that it was getting late. So leaving Jeff in her panties

she cleaned up a little and went to bed. Lying there under the covers, she felt

Jeff moving around more vigorously. Her panties had bunched up a little, giving

him room to manoeuvre. It didn't matter. She closed her eyes, feeling safe,

feeling powerful, and her dreams were filled with little Jeff's...

- = - = - = - = -

Morning came...

Kathy rose, and padded into the bathroom. She was up early, and didn't have to

be at the library for another two hours. It wasn't until she started downstairs

to get some coffee that she remembered Jeff. Turning she started back towards

the bedroom, he hadn't been in her panties when she went to the bathroom, so

maybe he was still in the bed.

Suddenly, she stopped.

Through the open door, she saw Jeff struggling through the blue shag rug. It was

like a jungle to him. But he was slowly making progress towards the nightstand.

Kathy immediately guessed what he intended. The cord on the phone was long, and

probably draped onto the floor. He might be able to climb the cord and reach the

phone, then move the handset and use the quick-dialler to call one of his

buddies. The fact that Jeff probably couldn't even move the handset never

occurred to Kathy. She felt angry with him. No. She felt good about feeling

angry with him. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to dominate him.

Kathy waited.

It took him a considerable length of time for Jeff to reach the dangling cord

and begin his climb. But Kathy wanted to catch him 'in the act'. He was halfway

up to the top when her patience gave out. Standing just where she could see him,

she started stomping her feet, making it sound like she was coming down the

hall. The results were most gratifying. Jeff looked like he was having a

seizure. He was in an absolute panic; too far down to reach the tabletop, too

high up to jump. He clung to the phone cord and watched fearfully as his titanic

wife entered the bedroom.

Kathy pretended not to notice him.

She wanted to play with him a little, and she had an idea. Walking around the

room, she opened drawers and selected her clothes for work, placing them on the

bed next to the nightstand. Jeff was about a foot and a half up the cord. Just

right for her little game. Removing her panties, she stood next to the nig

Kathy

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