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Big Girl (mf,femdom)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: STORY: BIG GIRL (fem-dom/sci-fi)
Date: Tue Jul 4 21:32:32 1995
Disclaimer: This story is sexual in nature and involves
female domination. If such subjects offend you, or if
you're under the age of consent for your locality, read no
further.
I am the author. Send comments to
102332.512@compuserve.com
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BIG GIRL
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 changed came over her, Brenda seemed to
acquire an other-worldly presence. The affect 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'd 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, she 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 her.
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 could 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
pheronomes, 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 wight, 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 a
sexual electricity in the air which was, for Ray, sometimes so
intense as to cause physical tremors and even pain. But he
know that her clothes were gone for good and that the 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 was 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 spend 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 from, 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 adrenalin 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
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 aureoles 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 was 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 hovered 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
couched 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 no 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 instinctually 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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