“Harrumph!” grumbled Lord Faffington, head of Britain’s secret military, as he entered the hangar. In truth, he was not aware of anything that needed to be harrumphed at, but he generally announced his presence in this manner. Aristocratic disapproval, he found, was the best way to motivate the men and women under his command.
A bespectacled scientist, whose name was probably Nigel, walked over to Faffington with an awkward, stumbling gait. “Lord Faffington,” he said, “I take it you're here to observe the launch?”
“Yes, I'm quite keen on seeing what the boffins have come up with,” said Lord Faffington. “Boffins” was what British people called scientists. It was a pretty dumb word, but the English had invented the language, and thus had the right to do whatever they wanted with it. It was a privilege they abused frequently, purely to irritate other nations.
“Our weapon is on the way,” said Nigel. “At your command, the first stage of Operation Empire can commence. If you just watch the platform-” he gestured to an immense circular platform, raised on sturdy hydraulic supports, “the weapon should load itself shortly.”
And only a moment later, the latest, greatest weapon in Britain’s empire loaded itself onto the platform. Lord Faffington’s eyes widened in awe - although he was still sharp enough that he caught his monocle as it tumbled from his face. One did not become the head of a secret military by having sluggish reflexes, after all.
“Vicar’s conkers,” whispered Lord Faffington, adjusting his powdered wig, “she’s beautiful.” He often said this when first saw new military hardware, fresh off the factory floor - but this time, few would disagree with his assessment. Because the newest advancement in modern military technology was not a missile, not a jet, not a walking tank - it was a woman. A beautiful, shapely woman, with shining purple eyes and long dark hair flowing halfway down her back. Her voluptuous curves were on full display; a two-piece swimsuit, patterned with the Union Jack, hugged her enormous round breasts and her wide, thick bottom.
Lord Faffington reinserted his monocle and peered at the platform where the weapon stood. “However…” he said, “she seems to be a bit small.”
The woman on the platform was, in fact, five hundred feet tall. She was so big that she'd spent the first week after her enlargement completely nude, until the scientists had been able to engineer a bikini that could contain her gigantic breasts and immense ass. But the mission ahead of her was a demanding one, and Faffington was right - it called for more power and size than even she possessed.
“Yes, she is currently at five hundred f-” Nigel paused, remembering that he was British. “One hundred and fifty-two point four meters. She will receive the final treatment just before she sets off, and once she arrives on American shores she should be at the size we discussed. Roughly seven times her current height, which would be…” Nigel’s brow furrowed in concentration. “Well, look, the math’s easier in feet, all right? Thirty-five hundred feet tall.”
“Excellent,” said Lord Faffington. “Begin the countdown. Is there a way for me to address her before she sets off?”
“Yes, milord,” said Nigel, leading the way to a control panel with a microphone extending from its surface. The scientist pressed a red button by the microphone’s base and stepped aside, gesturing to the panel.
Lord Faffington approached the microphone and leaned into it. He cleared his throat loudly, filling the hangar with the unpleasant sound - and beneath the noise, an automated countdown spoke the word “ten.” Beside the platform, an enormous door, taller than the gigantic woman, slid open to reveal the rolling waters of the English Channel.
“Octavia, is it?” said Lord Faffington, and loudspeakers near the giant woman carried his voice to her ears.
“Yes, milord,” said Octavia, turning to stare down at him.
“Octavia, I hand-picked you from a field of promising candidates,” said Faffington. “When we discovered that our enlargement process only works on beautiful women, we sought candidates from all over the United Kingdom. And I chose you over women who had more physical strength and more military training - because you are a woman of refinement, a classical musician who represents the culture that the American colonies left behind when they declared their independence.”
“Yes, milord,” said Octavia. “It is an honor to serve.” The countdown - which, as it turned out, was rather a slow one - reached “six.”
“You will not simply overwhelm the United States with the tremendous strength of your giant, invincible body,” said Faffington. “You will remind them of who they truly are. You will symbolize the rebirth of our empire, an empire that the States will be proud to rejoin.” National pride swelled in his puffed-up chest, and he raised his voice to a commanding shout. “And the time to reclaim the colonies is now! Our intelligence in the States reports that they have been developing the same enlargement technology, and their elected officials are voting to approve military applications today! So we cannot wait - even a second’s delay is impermissible, when-”
Lord Faffington went abruptly silent as he heard the deep toll of Big Ben, signalling the onset of teatime. The laboratory was on the coast, miles from London, but - of course - all British people can hear the bell’s toll regardless of distance. And when the bell tolls teatime, all timekeeping devices in the United Kingdom immediately halt - including the countdown to Octavia’s launch.
Robot butlers crisscrossed the hangar floor, setting out chairs and distributing tea and biscuits. For Octavia, an enormous electric kettle dispensed hot water into a teacup made from thick, welded steel plates. They sipped leisurely, partaking in the ritual of teatime, waiting for the toll of the great old bell that would signal its end. As ever, they lived in fear of the Long Teatime, when the bell would not ring again for days, leaving many to starve in their seats. But today, teatime was short. With all clocks stopped, there was no way to say how short - but soon the bell tolled and the countdown recommenced.
“Two… One… Launch.”
Octavia felt a warm tingle envelop her body as the scientists hit her with an intense wave of enlargement energy. In the first second, she felt herself grow some twenty feet - increasing her weight just enough that the raised platform underneath her began to buckle. With no time to waste, she leapt through the open hangar door and out into the English Channel.
The waters were cold, but the process of enlargement had made Octavia’s body resistant to nearly all sources of damage or discomfort. Machine-gun fire had bounced harmlessly off her belly, and explosives had failed even to singe her skin - so it came as no surprise that cold was barely noticeable.
Nearly six hundred feet tall and still growing, Octavia reached her arms forward in long, powerful strokes, pushing aside smaller vessels as she made her way into open waters. She had a long swim ahead of her, but as her body grew, each stroke covered more and more distance. By the time the British Isles were behind her, she was over twelve hundred feet tall, producing towering waves with each stroke and an enormous wake with her kicking legs.
Out in the Atlantic, Octavia felt her growth come to a stop. There was nothing to judge herself against, but she knew that her body was over a mile long now - and the thought of it made a sense of power wash over her. She’d felt it after her first enlargement, although she’d concealed it from the people around her. But now, feeling the waves lap at her gigantic, beautiful body, she could think of nothing but how much power she had, and how good it would feel to exercise it. Little people would stare in awe at her beauty, and buildings would crumble beneath her feet. Her pussy throbbed, begging to be touched - but Octavia forced herself to wait. If she was going to pleasure herself, she wanted an audience.
Sooner than she expected, Octavia saw a landmass rising up in front of her. Part of her training had been a series of VR exercises, intended to show her what the Delaware coastline would look like to a 3,500-foot-tall woman - and as she drew closer, she recognized the shape of the coast. She was right on target - once she made landfall, it would be just a short walk to Washington, DC.
As she drew near the coastline, Octavia felt her boobs slap against the sandy ocean floor. Now that her body was over a mile long, her breasts dipped hundreds of feet below the water’s surface - and this close to a large landmass, the ocean simply wasn’t deep enough for her to swim in.
So she stood, drawing herself up to her full height as untold gallons of water fell from her flawless, glistening skin. She shook her hair, spraying the coast with a brief, intense rainstorm - then walked across the rising open floor until she took her first earth-shaking footsteps onto dry land.
Octavia paid little attention to the people of Delaware as she made made her way towards Washington, DC. She had her eyes forward, looking for landmarks that would guide her to the seat of American power. But occasionally she glanced down at the streets below her, or looked behind to see the enormous craters her footsteps had created. Without even trying, her huge, powerful body was changing the face of the American landscape, demolishing buildings and turning roadways to rubble. In a real nation, Octavia reflected, such destruction might have been a shame… but here in the States, most of the buildings she was destroying probably weren’t even a century old. In a country with no real history to speak of, a few crushed structures was no great loss.
But before long Octavia arrived in DC, casting her long shadow over a building that did have a fair bit of history behind it. From now on, any destruction would have to be deliberate, a show of power for the representatives of the rebellious American government. Octavia planted her feet and bent at the knee, squatting beside the United States Capitol Building.
Within the Capitol Building, congress was in session - but if you’d walked in off the street, no one would blame you for thinking you’d just wandered into the circus. Because on this day, as with so many others, those clowns in congress were at it again.
Really, all there is to be said about the United States government is that it’s frequently inefficient and politicians are sometimes dishonest. No one has ever voiced a criticism more specific than that, so there’s no need to dwell on the topic.
Today the issue on the senate floor was the topic of “enlargement” technology - a newly discovered method whereby beautiful women could be made to grow to gigantic proportions. Senators from across the nation had spoken of its military applications, as well as its potential for misuse - but as it came time to cast their votes, most senators found one argument the most convincing: if we don’t harness this technology, someone else will.
At the head of the room, Senator King called for the vote. To clarify, he was not a senator whose last name was King; rather, he was the king of all senators. As much as the United States likes to pretend otherwise, you can’t actually have a country without a king. It’s impossible. But the constitution placed limits upon the king’s power: all he could really do was call for votes in the senate and behead people, the latter of which was rarely exercised.
“All those in favor of approving military applications for enlargement technology, say aye,” said Senator King. The senators answered promptly, with few remaining silent; it seemed that the ayes would have it.
“Those opposed?” said Senator King.
A few senators opened their mouths to speak - but their voices were drowned out by the voice that boomed from outside. Their teeth rattled from the earth-shaking bellow - which was recognizably feminine… and British. “Nay,” spoke the voice, and the senate was struck dumb with confusion and fear.
“The American rebellion ends today,” said the voice. “You will facilitate this nation’s reabsorption into the British Empire, or you - the representatives of its government - will become the front line in a very brief war. Assemble in the Capitol dome so that we may speak face to face.” The voice paused. “If you prefer to stay in your seats, I suppose we can still speak face to face - although it will require me to tear the roof from this building.”
The senators looked to each other in confusion, too afraid to speak - and almost in a trance, they rose from their chairs and made their way to the dome, filing up the stairs and arranging themselves throughout the rounded enclosure. And through the west-facing windows, they saw the face of Octavia Melody, looming over them with a calm, confident, and subtly cruel smile.
Octavia had lain her enormous body on the National Mall, smothering every inch of it beneath her smooth, bare skin. Her breasts rested on the steps of the Capitol Building, pressing up against its west side - anyone who tried to leave through those doors would find their entry blocked by a wall of soft flesh, held with an enormous Union Jack bikini top.
Having such huge breasts was, at times, an inconvenience for Octavia. It certainly didn’t make dress shopping any easier, and the bloody things tended to get in the way of cello playing. But they were big and firm enough that they made lovely pillows to rest her upper body on, and - conveniently - doing so put her at the perfect height to address the senators inside the dome.
“I take it you are the American House of Lords?” said Octavia. “Or… erm, whatever it’s called… don’t bother correcting me, you’ll all be out of work quite soon. As you can no doubt guess from the Union Jack covering my tits, I come to you from Great Britain. And as my size should make clear, we have perfected and utilized the enlargement technology that you have only just discovered.”
“America has lost the giant-woman arms race, I’m afraid,” Octavia went on, “and enlargement has made me… immensely powerful.” Feeling her pussy throb, she shifted her body, making the ground shake once more. She would have to do something to work off this tension… “I am impervious to every weapon in your arsenal, and I can effortlessly destroy anything I wish… so I offer you this chance to surrender before I choose something your city to make an example of.”
Senator King sighed gravely and looked to the other senators assembled in the dome. “I may be your king,” he said, “But I rule with your consent. What do you all say?”
“She’s not bluffing about being invincible,” said one senator. The others murmured in agreement; they’d all seen the same reports about the enlargement technology. “We have no way to fight her. I’m tempted to surrender, but… but…”
“But what?” prompted Senator King.
“But… darn it, I just love freedom too much!” said the senator.
“Yeah, I feel the same way,” said another senator. “Big freedom fan over here.”
Another murmur of agreement rippled through the dome, rising in volume and confidence, until the senators were all chanting “U.S.A! U.S.A! U.S.A!” Roughly one-third of all conversations in the United States eventually resulted in such a chant, but this one was not merely a reflex - it was a reigniting of the same independent spirit that sparked the American revolution. Patriotism buoyed Senator King’s spirits, and he shouted his answer confidently at the giantess. “We will not surrender to you!” he yelled triumphantly. “We all just agreed that we really love freedom!”
Octavia rolled her eyes in disgust. “Ugh, freedom,” she muttered, “Why did you Yanks have to go and invent freedom? Very well, I suppose I’ll have to persuade you.” She stretched her body, and she felt her pussy rub up against something. Something hard, and long… something that tickled her womanhood in just the way she needed.
She turned her head to look behind her. Just beyond her wide, round ass, she saw something poking up between her cheeks. A white, pointed tip - and as she gently rubbed her pussy and her thighs against the structure, she judged it to be long and narrow. An obelisk…
Of course! The Washington Monument was one of the landmarks she’d studied in preparation for her mission. Back then, she’d thought of it as just another building… but now, the rush of power that came with being a giantess was filling her mind with possibilities. The shape of the obelisk was suddenly alluring… and it seemed like it was just the right size. The pointed tip and hard edges were of no concern; her body was invincible, inside and out.
“We’ll see if you still love your freedom so much,” said Octavia, rising to her feet, “When I personally desecrate your monument to the inventor of freedom - by jamming it right up my big British fanny!”
The senators were aghast, and their cries of protest rose all the way to Octavia’s ears. And when she heard exactly what they were saying, she blushed red, raising her hands in front of her face.
“No, no,” she said, “In Britain, ‘fanny’ means ‘pussy.’ I’m going to stick the Washington Monument in my pussy.”
The indignant shouts of the senators faded somewhat, but didn’t stop entirely; what she was proposing was still quite vulgar, after all.
Octavia strode across the National Mall and positioned herself above the Washington Monument. With two fingers, she rubbed the front of her bikini bottom, teasing the lips of her pussy through the patterned swimsuit. She sighed, gyrating her hips against her hand, luxuriating in the attention. She could take her time, pleasure herself at her own pace, and she would still have the eyes of the nation’s capital upon her. Her body commanded attention - just as it would soon command surrender.
When she could tease herself no longer, she pulled down her bikini bottom, letting it drop to her feet and kicking it into the reflecting pool. Her pussy, itself more than a hundred feet tall, was on full, lewd display to the senators - not to mention everyone else in that direction for miles. In the other direction, the people of DC were treated to the sight of her marvelously round, entirely bare ass. The cowering populace could not help but contemplate the destructive potential of those wide cheeks; never before had looming annihilation been so gorgeous.
Octavia bent at the knee, carefully guiding her pussy down towards the obelisk. It wouldn’t do to break the thing before she had a chance to use it - although she did reach down and use the palm of her hand to grind down the monument’s point into a rounded tip.
With her feet firmly planted, she lowered her pussy onto the marble monument, letting her slick lips embrace its tip. She released a long, lusty moan, far louder than any noise she would make while pleasuring herself alone. Octavia had never been an exhibitionist - in spite of the seductive curves of her body, she had always dressed modestly, concealing her bottom and her bosom beneath drab colors. But now, her body was so big that no one could ignore it. She could never be modest again - so she might as well attract as much attention as possible.
The obelisk grew wider towards the base - and Octavia groaned happily as it spread her lips wider. She lowered herself nearly to the ground, feeling a wonderful fullness in her womanhood. The boffins, ignorant in the ways of pleasure, hadn’t provided Octavia with any implements with which to touch herself - and so she hadn’t been properly taken care of for weeks.
She raised and lowered her body, bending and flexing her knees to slowly work the monument in and out of her cunt. Her pussy dripped with fluid, coating the walls with the fragrance of her arousal, and her excitement climbed to a new plateau. To go any higher, she would need to increase her pace… and so she did. Each time she lifted her body, she let it drop, slamming thousands of tons of womanhood into the earth. And when she fell, the monument rammed into her, filling her almost all the way to the back wall of her pussy.
And the ground wasn’t the only thing that shook with each impact. Each time she hit the ground, a ripple of motion went through the jiggling flesh of her ass - and her breasts shook nearly as much. Her bikini top, constructed to support and confine her giant boobs, held on valiantly - but to the tiny humans watching her, it seemed that each bounce threatened to tear the straps and free her bust.
“Oh, yes,” cried Octavia, “This is what it feels like to be part of an empire, you American peasants! My body envelops your proud monument, just as the British Empire will envelop your nation… and the union of the two will create a climax, metaphorically speaking…” She panted, her chest heaving as she drew in long, heavy breaths. “So what do you say, House of Lords? Will you cling to freedom? Or will you allow yourselves to be lovingly embraced by the warm, wet cunt of the British Empire?”
In the capitol dome, the senators watched the monument with a growing sense of despair. “Senator King,” said one senator, “I… I think I’m starting to like freedom a little bit less!”
“Stay strong, all of you,” said Senator King. “We don’t know what else she has planned. Things may get even sexier… but no matter what happens, do not stop loving freedom! Find a flag to salute!”
“I want to,” said the senator, “but I can’t tear my eyes away from her! I… I kind of want to salute her tits… they do have a flag pattern over them…”
“Damn it!” swore Senator King. “Why did we choose a flag with the same color scheme as the country we left? Rookie mistake!”
Across the National Mall, Octavia was finding that she needed to up the pace once more. She lifted herself entirely off the monument, then dropped to her hands and knees, lining up her pussy with the obelisk. Then she lowered herself onto it again, letting her womanhood swallow up the monument, until she was lying flat on the ground with the obelisk completely inside her.
With her flushed face towards the Capitol Building, Octavia rolled her hips, grinding herself against the ground, letting the monument penetrate her deeper. “Ooh, so big,” she moaned, angling her body so that the monument stroked the sensitive spots deep within her. Her inner walls tensed, constricting around the obelisk, testing the strength of its construction. Tiny fractures began to form around the base - even though Octavia was trying to be as gentle as possible, her first priority was getting herself off - and if the motion of her hips didn’t destroy the monument, then her pussy would surely crush it to dust when she finally came.
“A thought occurs to me,” said Octavia. “The Washington Monument permits tourists, does it not? There must be dozens of people within it at this moment.” She ground her hips into the earth, forcing the obelisk deep within her. “They are inside my cunt, breathing in the fragrance of my immense womanhood… totally at my mercy as I pleasure myself. And I am certain… that they have learned to love being under my dominion. They are proud citizens of the British Empire now, made loyal by the warm, loving embrace of my pussy…”
She was working herself into a frenzy, fantasies of power growing wild in her mind. But her pussy needed more - she would never make herself cum just by humping the ground. Grunting, she jerked her hips forward, snapping the monument off at its base and clenching her pussy to hold it tight within herself.
Rolling over, Octavia turned to face the Capitol and slowly pulled the monument out of her pussy, dragging one side along her clit. “It’s mine now,” she moaned, tracing the obelisk’s tip past her belly button and up toward her breasts. “Your revolution was an aberration, your history a tiny hiccup in the story of the once and future empire. As you watch me pleasure myself with your uprooted monument, forget your freedom, forget your history. Think only of me, praise only my body, serve only my pleasure.”
She raised the obelisk to her chest, sliding it between her enormous breasts. Her cleavage held the structure in place, with an embrace that was strong but wonderfully soft - and with her eyes on the Capitol dome, she leaned her head down to lick the obelisk’s tip.
“Mmm, that taste…” moaned Octavia. “I have basted your monument in my exquisite fragrance. Perhaps you only resist me because you hope to be punished and dominated in the same way. Will you only surrender once I have swallowed you into my cunt?” She paused to lick the tip of the obelisk, then wrapped her lips around it, briefly mouthing the marble head of the monument.
Slowly, she pulled the monument from between her tits and lowered it back towards her pussy. “If so, you are in luck,” she concluded, “Because I will do whatever it takes to make you submit.”
Octavia plunged the monument back into her pussy, gripping the base and thrusting it deep inside herself. Holding it tight within herself, she rose to her feet and crossed the National Mall, her pussy spilling fluid over the grass as she walked. It took only a couple steps to return to the Capitol dome, where the senators watched in awe - and once there she squatted in front of the building, positioning herself so that her immense, dripping cunt loomed over the dome’s windows.
“Surrender,” bellowed Octavia, once again gripping the monument’s base and thrusting it into herself. “Accept that your nation cannot challenge my power. Pledge yourself to the British Empire, let your cities become playthings for me to pleasure myself upon. Slake my lust, and avoid my wrath…”
Octavia was dimly aware that she was going off-message. The closer she got to orgasm, the more enamoured she was with her own power, with the might and beauty of her enlarged body. She was the largest creature on Earth, holding the fate of nations in her hand. Her steps had already trod a path of destruction, leaving deep craters and smoldering wreckage in the shape of massive footprints. Every standing structure existed at her whim, doomed to be crushed into dust if she decided to drop her titanic ass upon it. Even a moment of carelessness could change the face of the landscape forever; sliding the obelisk against her clit, Octavia pictured herself catching a toe on an underpass and crushing an unsightly American Football stadium beneath her tits.
Octavia thrust a groping hand beneath the fabric of her bikini top, cupping one gigantic breast, sinking her fingers into the soft flesh and stroking the sensitive nipples. Harder and faster, she rammed the monument into herself, desperate to hit climax. Her enlarged body had a tremendous capacity for pleasure, but it demanded and intense and dedicated fucking. A side effect of being invincible, perhaps - only her full strength would suffice to bring her to orgasm. The people of DC watched the beautiful giantess grow red in the face, panting and sweating, grunting in a manner most unladylike, as she attacked her cunt with the broken, desecrated monument.
And when she came, the sensation hit her like a thunderclap. She lost her balance, falling backwards onto her ass as the first intense throb rippled through her body. The earth shook beneath her - not enough to crumble the sturdy Capitol Building, but more than enough to send fractures through the foundation. Her legs kicked forward, twitching with each wave of climax, and her heels slammed into the north and south wings of the Capitol. Had the senators still been in their chambers, this involuntary motion would have brought down the wall on top of them - but in the dome, they were safe.
Inside her throbbing cunt, the monument was battered from all sides by her clenching walls. Cracks spread up and down its length, but it held its shape, if only barely. Octavia felt her pussy destroying the obelisk, and that reminder of her power made her arousal spike. She pinched her nipple, kneading her palms into the soft flesh of her left tit, seeking as much pleasure as her body could give her. At first, she instinctively muffled her cries of climax - but then she remembered that her purpose was to project power. If she was going to cum, she wanted to cum hard and loud - loud enough to bring America to its knees.
Panting, her climax winding down, Octavia let herself fall backwards onto the National Mall. Raising her arm lazily, she pulled the Washington Monument from her cunt, setting it down on the grass beside her. Despite its cracks, it held together - although it would surely never stand again. Octavia raised her head, so that she could just barely see the windows of the Capitol dome over the tops of her breasts. “So,” she mumbled, “do you give up?”
Inside the dome, the senators were in grim agreement. Their love of freedom, once seemingly indomitable, had waned to a sliver as they watched Octavia pleasure herself with the towering monument. With only her body, the lovely giantess had enveloped the proud landmark, used it for her pleasure, and tossed it aside. Freedom seemed trivial compared to what she offered: submission, and worship. Defeated, Senator King walked to the window and raised his head to address Octavia.
Not Long Ago...
Deep beneath the Nevada desert, on a projected map of the United States, an orange dot appeared on the Delaware coast. The orange alert was a new one - experimental, in fact - and a false alarm seemed likely. But the technician dutifully pulled up a satellite feed of the area - and what she saw confirmed her worst fears.
With a printout in hand, she sprinted down sterile white halls and burst through the door of her boss’ office. As she stood in the doorway, panting and holding out the paper in her hand, the man behind the desk swiveled his chair to face her. He raised the brim of his Stetson and plucked the cigar from his mouth, fixing the technician with a steely gaze.
“What have you got for me?”
General Ainsley West-Texas walked into the spacious hangar, spurs jingling with each step. “So this is the big day,” he drawled, transferring his cigar to the other side of his mouth. “Came earlier than anyone woulda guessed… but it’s our job to be ready, ain’t it?”
“Yes - yes, sir,” muttered the technician who had brought the orange alert to General West-Texas’ attention. She wasn’t accustomed to addressing anyone as “sir,” or dealing with the military chain of command at all - much less that of the secret military to which she’d recently been recruited. Living and working in Area 51 was weird in a lot of ways.
She wanted to creep away from the general - partly to escape the gravitational pull of his military authority, and partly to help her colleagues in Project Empower a hand. But she felt certain the tall, broad general would fling a bellowing reprimand in her direction if she so much as took a step away - so she made frantic gestures at the other technicians, trying to communicate that it was go time.
And if her gestures didn't succeed, the team got the message when General West-Texas climbed the brief staircase to the Patton Stage built into the wall of the hangar.
Every room of import in Ainsley West-Texas’ domain had a Patton Stage, a recreation of the stage where George C. Scott delivered the famous speech from the movie Patton. There wasn't much to it - just a simple stage backed by an enormous, hanging American flag - but General West-Texas never missed an opportunity to use it.
Anyone who worked under the general soon learned that they didn't actually need to listen when he delivered the performance. He got completely absorbed in the act, turning to stare at imagined soldiers as he barked out each new line. The technician who'd come in with the general hurried to join her co-workers, helping them ready Project Empower for launch. Over to the side of the room, the general went through the motions of his speech, his enthusiasm undiminished by the lack of an active audience - and in time, he reached the speech's conclusion.
“...All right, you sons of bitches,” bellowed General West-Texas, red in the face, “You know how I feel. I'll be proud to lead you wonderful guys in battle anytime, anywhere. That's all.” His performance complete, he sighed and pulled at his collar, letting his body relax. “All right, I hope y’all are properly inspired. So where’s Project Empower?”
“Over here, dude,” said Vinyl Scratch, raising one arm languidly. “Been here the whole time. Been five hundred feet tall, too. Kinda hard to miss.”
Vinyl Scratch was indeed five hundred feet tall, reclining on the launch platform in an American-flag bikini. The skintight garment was a technological marvel, designed to grow alongside the woman who wore it - a feature it had in common with the one Octavia wore. But Vinyl, thanks to a team working in parallel with Project Empower, also wore a pair of black-rimmed purple shades and a set of headphones with a music-note mark printed on the side. They hadn't been part of the original plan, but after the first round of treatments had enlarged Vinyl to twenty feet tall, she'd complained to the scientists that she felt “naked, but not in a sexy way,” without her glasses and her headphones.
And once the team had acceded to that request, she'd also had them build her a giant smartphone at tremendous expense. Bossing around the tiny nerds was loads of fun; once they'd built her the giant phone, it had finally clicked that they needed to keep her happy. She was an invincible weapon, vital to America’s national security; she could do pretty much whatever she wanted, and everyone around her would just have to deal with it.
Although… there was one guy who still raised a fuss everyone and then.
“Project Empower!” roared General Ainsley West-Texas, “Do not tell me you have been using the social medias, in defiance of my direct orders!”
“Smile,” said Vinyl, throwing up a peace sign and posing for a selfie that placed General West-Texas in the background. The front-facing camera’s flash filled the hangar with light, and Vinyl reviewed the picture. It was good - classic selfie posing, with plenty of cleavage in frame. The general was a cowboy-hatted speck in the background, behind banks of computers and white-coated technicians.
“Chilling in Area 51,” said Vinyl, tapping at her phone. “Hashtag SecretMilitary, hashtag BlackOpsWeaponDevelopment, hashtag FiveHundredFeetTall. Send tweet.”
“Do not send tweet!” bellowed the general, his face flushed red with anger. “I repeat, do not send tweet!”
“Aaaand sent,” said Vinyl Scratch, smiling casually.
“Goldarnit,” muttered the general. “All right, initiate social media suppression protocol D-R…” he put his hand to his forehead. “Shoot, what am I sayin? Project Empower’s goin’ public. No point tryin’ to keep a tweet under wraps.”
“Project Empower!” he shouted, “Those spotted dicks over in the Yoo-Kay have launched their own giant woman, and she has just made landfall in Delaware! You are to sprint to Washington DC, intercept her, and subdue her by any means necessary!” He turned to the nearest technician. “Do we have visual on her?”
A technician nodded, calling up an image of Octavia taken from ground level. “This was relayed to us by an agent in the field!” barked General West-Texas. “The weapon’s size is estimated at thirty-five hundred feet - which happens to also be the maximum size that you can attain after one more treatment! You will be treated with enlargement energy, launched, and then you will subdue the enemy’s weapon!”
“Right, yeah,” said Vinyl, pulling down her shades to look at the image of Octavia. The low angle of the shot made Octavia’s body especially impressive - she wasn’t just a svelte woman with smooth skin and huge tits, she was clearly a giantess, her stern face obscured by low clouds and her feminine curves painted with long shadows. Her curves sent a pang of envy through Vinyl’s gut; Vinyl Scratch had a damn good body, slim and toned with perky tits and a tight ass, but Octavia was so much more round and womanly and marvelously thick.
“So yeah, subdue her, right,” said Vinyl, rubbing a couple of fingers at her inner thigh. “So we’re talking, like, what - spanking? Violently passionate kisses? Tearing off that Union Jack bikini?”
“Whut?” said the general, his mouth gaping. “No, missy! Your training!”
“Oh, the close-quarters combat stuff?” said Vinyl, thinking back to the first few weeks of her time in the secret base. “Yeah, I don’t remember any of that.”
“Not even the basics?” demanded the general.
“Hmmm, nope,” said Vinyl. “Don’t worry, I’ll totally do by best.”
“Yeah, good,” sighed General West-Texas. “Real comforting. We a go for launch?”
A technician shot the general a thumbs-up, and he nodded. At his command, the technician threw a switch on his console, and Vinyl was bombarded with invisible enlargement energy from all sides. The tingle was familiar to Vinyl, but it was more focused now, hitting her in stronger waves than any previous treatment. She felt herself beginning to grow, her five-hundred-foot body expanding in every direction as the enlargement emitters powered down.
The platform under her feet began to rise, hydraulic lifts propelling her upward, straining against her increasing mass. She’d never ridden this elevator before, but she knew where it was taking her - up to the surface, out of the underground facility where she’d spent the past few months. Over her head, at the top of a long elevator shaft, she saw a circular aperture open up, letting in the stinging daylight of the Nevada Desert. Vinyl was lucky that she was wearing shades - and that those shades, along with her headphones and her smartphone, were keeping pace with the growth of her body.
One thing that wasn’t keeping up with her body was the elevator shaft around her. It was comfortably sized for a five-hundred-foot-tall woman, but she was growing fast, and the walls of the round chamber were drawing ever closer. She couldn’t tell for certain… but it really looked like she was going to outgrow the elevator shaft before she reached the surface.
Vinyl bent her knees, turning her head upward and setting her eyes on the top of the shaft. Then she jumped, leaping straight up, gaining just enough height to hook her fingers around the rim of the aperture. And none too soon; as she pulled herself up and into the sunlight, she felt both shoulders brush against the sides of the elevator shaft. Just a couple seconds later, and her growth would have made it impossible to escape.
Of course, getting her shoulders through wasn’t the only important milestone. Her breasts, still expanding within her flag-print top, began to fill the shaft, forcing her to wiggle her body to get them through. After that, it seemed like smooth sailing - until her hips suddenly became stuck. And much as she wiggled, her expanding ass simply wouldn’t work itself free. Her butt was simply too big - its thick, firm cheeks filled up the whole circumference of the shaft, and it was only getting larger…
But it didn’t hurt, Vinyl Scratch realized. The walls of the elevator shaft weren’t squishing her - rather, her growing body was effortlessly pushing against the walls, buckling the metal as her growth pushed it aside. She’d known her body was strong, but now she truly felt like the invincible weapon she was supposed to be.
Her widening ass thoroughly wrecked the elevator shaft, pushing its walls aside, and Vinyl lifted herself out of the hole, standing tall - eight hundred feet tall, in fact - in the bare desert. Now she just had to jog from Nevada to Washington DC - which would have been a pretty brutal chore back when she was five-foot-seven. But now, just under a thousand feet tall and still growing, it didn’t sound so bad.
Vinyl took off running, kicking up entire sandstorms with each step, making her way east across the blank, barren desert. The underground lab she’d emerged from was miles from any manmade structure on the surface, so it took some time before Vinyl encountered any signs of human civilization. She glanced down at a tiny desert town, barely more than a truck stop, so small that she passed it by in two strides. The impact of her footfalls shook the whole town, smashing windows and cracking foundations, but all that destruction was too small for Vinyl Scratch to see - or to care about. Her job was to protect America, and she’d have to tolerate a little collateral damage.
Of course, she wasn’t trying to smash up the landscape. The one actual tactical purpose her giant smartphone provided was a navigation app designed specifically for her, which gave her a route that minimized her contact with normal-sized humans. The goal wasn’t so much to keep her existence a secret - as that was basically impossible at this point - but to reduce the property damage her journey would cause. She’d still be leaving four-hundred-foot-long footprints all across the country, but most of them would be in fields and vacant lots as opposed to town squares and football stadiums.
Thanks in part to her headphones - and their wireless connection to the music library on her phone - the jog to DC just flew by. She began to run in rhythm with the music, letting her feet hit the ground in time with the pounding bass. That had always made her feel like a giant, even before she was one - and while the people at ground level could barely hear hear music, they certainly heard the seismic BOOM of her feet hitting the earth.
And when the National Mall came in view, Vinyl noticed two things in quick succession. The first was the absence of the Washington Monument; Vinyl wasn’t sure exactly where it was supposed to be, but she could tell it wasn’t there.
The second thing she noticed was a sound - the sound of a woman crying out in orgasm. Crying out so loud that her voice carried for miles… and her voice had a decidedly British inflection. Vinyl crouched, keeping herself low to the ground - although there wasn’t really anything she could conceivably hide behind. Even lying flat against the ground, the slimmest parts of her body were hundreds of feel tall - and the roundest parts of her body stuck out far more. Fortunately, not much stealth seemed to be necessary; the British giantess seemed to be mostly concerned with the climax wracking her body. Vinyl positioned herself behind her, readying herself to attack.
The giantess groaned as her orgasm came to an end, and slid the missing Washington Monument from her pussy. “So,” she said, her accent still crisp even in her lazy, post-orgasmic mumble, “do you give up?”
Vinyl Scratch, crouched beside the National Mall, sized up her opponent. The enemy giantess was, unfortunately, an absolute beauty. The ground-level photograph had made her look huge and imposing - which, of course, she was - but now Vinyl was the same size as her. To Vinyl, she just looked like a beautiful, curvaceous woman who was recovering from a mind-shattering orgasm. She didn’t look big - the world around her just looked small.
But she was still the enemy, a fact confirmed by her apparent attempt to intimidate the government by definiling a national monument. Beautiful or not, she wouldn’t hesitate to attack Vinyl Scratch… and there was no reason for Vinyl to keep hesitating. Her enemy was flat on her back, unaware of Vinyl’s presence, and still recovering from her orgasm. Vinyl wasn’t going to get a better chance than this. She set her immense smartphone on the ground, trusting that its wireless connection would continue to deliver music to her headphones. As for the headphones themselves, she kept them on - she was accustomed to listening to people while music was playing.
Vinyl leapt from her crouching position, bringing her elbow down on the other giantess in a maneuver that was far more WWE than CQC. Nonetheless, Vinyl was putting considerable force into it - even if it didn’t do serious damage, it would at least set Vinyl up to press the advantage granted by her surprise attack.
And yet when her elbow slammed down on the giantess’ chest, with so many tons of force behind it… not very much seemed to happen. She practically bounced off of Octavia, landing on the grass beside her as the other giantess yelped with surprise and scrambled to her feet. She glared at Vinyl in surprise and anger, struggling to form words.
“I… I was told the Americans didn’t have a giantess yet,” she spat accusingly at Vinyl, “And yet here you are, dressed in that gaudy and revealing garment… which unambiguously and tastelessly reveals your… national pride.”
“Tasteless?” said Vinyl, raising an eyebrow skeptically. “You’re wearing exactly the same thing, except less.” She pointed down at the spot where Octavia’s bikini bottom had once been, before she’d stripped it off. Her pussy, still leaking fluid onto her thighs, was out for all to see.
Octavia looked down at herself, frowning slightly at her immodest position. “Well…” she said, “At least my garment proudly displays the flag of the once and future British Empire. Yours is the rebel rag of an illegitimate nation, and I’ll take great pleasure in tearing it off your body.”
A disbelieving smile came over Vinyl’s face, and Octavia’s mind caught up with her mouth. “Dear me-” she stammered, “I didn’t mean…” She looked over Vinyl’s mostly-bare body, her face reddening. “You… you know what I meant!”
“I think maybe I do,” said Vinyl. “You think the USA and the UK should have a… what do you call it, the diplomatic thing…”
“A ‘special relationship?’” said Octavia, narrowing her eyes.
“Yeah, that.”
“No,” sneered Octavia, stepping back and squaring her shoulders. “I was expressing disrespect for your country’s flag, nothing more. We are enemies, er…” she paused. “If we are to duel, I suppose I should know your name…”
“Vinyl Scratch.”
“Octavia Melody. Charmed. But as I say, we are enemies. We are weapons, you and I, mere vessels for the ideals of our nations. Our countries have sent us to war against each other, and so we are bound to fight one another.”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Vinyl. “But, like… two chicks as good-looking as us, it’s kind of a shame, right? There’s, like… better stuff we could be doing together, you know? I mean, you obviously don’t mind showing off your, uh… goods.” Again, she pointed down, at Octavia’s bare crotch. “Like, fuck…” hissed Vinyl, “It’s not just me, right? Being this big is kind of a turn-on, isn’t it? Havin’ this giant body makes me wanna cum my brains out while everyone’s watching.”
“How vulgar,” said Octavia. “You’re supposed to be embodying the ideals of your nation, and yet you are… hedonistic and disloyal…” she paused. “Ah, of course,” she said, “you are the embodiment of the American state, wandering aimlessly across the moral landscape, untended by the wisdom of the noble empire, a slave to base desire and so-called ‘individualism.’”
“Yeah, totally,” said Vinyl. “You nailed it. So we’re gonna, like, fight, or…”
“Indeed!” said Octavia, raising both fists. “I don’t suppose you are familiar with Marquess of Queensbury rules, so I shall explain them in comprehensive detail, repeating myself as needed, until you-” Vinyl slapped her across the face. “Ow! You bitch!”
And the fight was on. Neither giantess had an especially muscular physique, but each punch landed like a bomb blast, sending shockwaves through the ground with every impact.
And yet… something was off. Vinyl and Octavia realized it at about the same time, and their eyes met, their expressions sharing the same confusion. They stepped back from each other in an unspoken ceasefire.
“So…” said Octavia, “Don’t take this for a boast, but… none of your punches actually seemed to hurt me.”
“Yeah, same here,” said Vinyl. “And when I hit you, it felt like punching a brick wall… except it didn’t hurt my hand or anything.”
“It seems we truly are invincible,” said Octavia. “Not simply against conventional weapons, but against each other as well. Yet we have a duty to battle each other until there is a clear victor. There must be some alternate method of combat that we - gah!”
Once again Vinyl took the initiative, leaping at Octavia, tackling her to the ground. They slid along the National Mall, Octavia’s shoulders digging furrows into the grass as they skidded towards the half-smashed Capitol Building. The senators, rattled by the seismic impact of the giantess’ bodies, braced themselves for another impact… but the gigantic beauties slid to a stop just before they hit the building.
Vinyl was pinning Octavia against the ground, her hands on the other giantess’ shoulders. Octavia struggled, not quite generating enough kick to throw Vinyl off of her. “What are you doing?” Octavia grunted.
“Grappling you,” said Vinyl, grinning as she leaned her body closer. “I figure we can wrestle for a while, and one of us will eventually tire out.”
Octavia felt herself starting to sweat as Vinyl’s face came closer. She was close enough that she could see Vinyl’s eyes through her dark glasses… and they were every bit as mischievous and hungry as her smile. Octavia had tried to deny it, but Vinyl’s seductive offers held some appeal - and having her whole body pressed against Vinyl was only making it more tempting. Her giant body had a huge sexual appetite, and fucking herself with the Washington Monument had only whetted it.
“I suppose… a bit of a grapple could be… fun…” muttered Octavia. With each breath, she felt Vinyl’s tits pressing into hers - and Vinyl was grinding her hips into Octavia, stroking her bikini bottom against Octavia’s bare, wet pussy lips.
“Ooh, yeah,” said Vinyl. “I love fun.” She gripped Octavia’s shoulders harder, digging in her fingers. “And since all’s fair in love and war, maybe I’ll just…” Slowly, she lowered her face, pursed her lips, and kissed Octavia.
Octavia briefly entertained the notion of struggling, fighting back, trying to reverse Vinyl’s pin - but after a mere second of feeling Vinyl’s soft lips against hers, she put the thought from her mind. When she felt Vinyl’s tongue touch her lips, she opened her mouth, inviting the other giantess deeper inside.
Octavia lay back, but it wasn’t England she was thinking of. She was thinking only of herself, of the pulsing heat in her womanhood, and of the passion and vigor with which Vinyl was plundering her mouth. This fire, this hunger, this beastly, greedy horniness the American brute was displaying… maybe the colonies had something to teach her after all.
Vinyl broke the kiss, smiling warmly at Octavia as she pulled her head back. “Woah, you’re not even moving,” she said. “I must be really good at this grappling thing. Hmm, but I bet this’ll make you squirm…” She pulled herself backward, sliding herself down Octavia’s body, tracing her lips and her nose along the curve of her neck, the little hollows of her shoulders, and down to her chest, where her bikini top still covered her huge, round tits. With a growl, she bit down on the little red string between the two cups, pulling the top away, freeing Octavia’s breasts.
Vinyl Scratch shuddered in lust and amazement as she watched Octavia’s tits jiggle their way out of her top. They looked even bigger now; her body unbound by the Union Jack, she was just a woman, huge and powerful and beautiful, with loyalty to nothing besides her own pleasure. A quick glance to the left or right, at the miniature city of Washington DC, reminded Vinyl that Octavia’s breasts weren’t merely big - they were colossal, big and enough to crush buildings to dust beneath their weight.
Vinyl cupped her mouth around Octavia’s left tit, circling the nipple with her tongue, smiling at she felt the other giantess’ legs kick and squirm beneath her. “You devious bitch,” Octavia moaned, “what are you trying to do to me…”
“It’s not obvious yet?” teased Vinyl, lifting her head from Octavia’s breast. “I guess I should keep going…” She worked her way down Octavia’s body, running her fingers along her bare tummy, kissing her navel, bringing her mouth just inches away from Octavia’s wet cunt.
(Well, actually, it was about twenty yards away, which doesn’t sound like an intimately close distance. But given the size of their bodies, it seemed like inches.)
Vinyl blew a warm breath onto Octavia’s pussy, making the other giantess whimper. “I think I found your weakness, Octavia,” she said, breathing in the scent of her womanhood. “How many times do you think I’ll have to make you cum before you’re totally helpless? Two? Three? Ten? I’ll do whatever it takes, gorgeous. For America.”
Before Octavia could offer a retort, Vinyl’s tongue was at the base of her pussy lips, slowly working its way upward. She gasped, drawing in heavy breaths - and then she squealed, digging her heels into the earth as Vinyl’s hot, slick tongue touched her clit. “Ohhh...” she groaned, “You can’t… you musn’t…”
“Oh?” said Vinyl. “Must I not? Well, if I misread your signals, then just let me know. Should I stop eating your pussy, Miss Melody?”
Octavia just lay there, gasping, rubbing her thighs against one another. She couldn’t bring herself to beg for Vinyl’s affection… but she also couldn’t say no. In desperate, frustrated silence, she lay there, waiting for Vinyl’s touch.
“Wow,” said Vinyl. “For a chick who just fucked herself with a tower, you’re, like, shy or something. But I’m not hearing a no.” She dove back in, parting Octavia’s folds, tasting her womanhood as she probed her. Vinyl steadied herself, placing both hands on Octavia’s thighs as she thrust her tongue deeper, searching out bundles of sensitive nerves that would make Octavia quiver and cry out.
“You… can’t defeat me like this,” groaned Octavia. “You really think you can weaken me by making me cum? Americans are truly gutter trash if this is how they approach life…”
Vinyl just laughed - and as if retaliating against the insult, she withdrew her tongue from the folds of Octavia’s pussy and attacked her clit, circling it and flicking at it with the tip of her tongue. It was a focused, dedicated assault, overcoming Octavia’s senses and sending jolts of pleasure all through her core. Her mind sinking beneath waves of sensation, Octavia began to worry that Vinyl really would overcome her this way. The climax she was building towards seemed so big, so powerful, that it would lay her flat, completely draining her… she would have no choice but to surrender, once that final wave crashed over her shores.
But if she couldn’t win against Vinyl, she could at least force a draw. “Vinyl,” she groaned, “You must let me return the favor… please, I wish to taste your pussy, you lovely creature…”
“I get it,” said Vinyl, lifting her head. “You can tell I’m not bluffing. My tongue can bring any woman to her knees, even a big, beautiful giantess like yourself. And now you think you can turn the tables on me? I’d like to see you try, you stuffy bint.” She paused. “Am I using that term correctly? Bint?”
“Well, I don’t like being insulted,” muttered Octavia, “But yes, contextually that is correct.” She lifted her upper body and shot her hand down to Vinyl’s crotch, digging her fingers beneath the elastic of her red-and-white-striped bikini bottom. She sent two probing fingers into the folds of Vinyl’s pussy, coating her fingers in the copious fluid of her arousal. “Ooh, you’re wet, aren’t you, slut?” she teased. “Mmm, I can’t wait to taste this… this must be litres of pussy juice you’re leaking, mustn’t it? A big girl like you, your pussy must be a bottomless fountain of delicious fluid. Won’t you let me pleasure you, Miss Scratch?”
“Shit,” breathed Vinyl, “You got really nimble fingers…”
“I am a musician, Miss Scratch,” said Octavia, sending her fingers deeper. “And while I am not quite as skilled a vocalist, I believe my mouth can do great things for you. Will you open yourself up to me? I have already conquered the phallic monument of your nation… but conquering this yonic monument will be a far greater deed. Your body, your womanhood is the pinnacle of American accomplishment,” she said, “Just as mine is the pride of the British Empire.”
“You’re a real flatterer,” said Vinyl. “All right, since you want it so bad, go ahead and eat my pussy. But… you gotta let me finish eating yours too. I still plan on winning this war.”
Vinyl lay back, and Octavia crawled on top of her, positioning her mouth over Vinyl’s pussy and her crotch over Vinyl’s face. Before Octavia’s thighs descended onto her, burying her face in the musky shadows of her crotch, Vinyl took one last look at the landscape around her. She’d never been to her country’s capitol before, and now this historic spot - a place rich with history and dotted with monuments - was like a little model city. All its powerful people, men and women of wealth and influence, were tiny specks; even the arsenals that the government commanded were useless against her giant, invincible body. The only thing that mattered - the only thing with as much power as Vinyl Scratch - was the beautiful body of Octavia Melody.
Vinyl Scratch let her mouth surround Octavia’s pussy, and she let her tongue resume the work she’d already started. A fresh wave of fluid hit her tongue, bathing it in gallons of musky, sweet juice - and just as she was beginning to appreciate the flavor, she felt Octavia tear away her bikini bottom and touch her own tongue to Vinyl’s clit. It was just a touch - no technique, no great speed - but feeling the warm, slick tongue of a beautiful woman on her love button made her body shiver with anticipation.
Vinyl wrapped her arms around Octavia’s hips, feeling the soft curves of her big round bottom. She felt Octavia’s nimble fingers stroking at the small of her back and cupping her ass - and, not for the first time, she felt a little self-conscious about her body. Vinyl knew she looked good - she was slender and athletic, with pleasing curves, but her body didn't compare to Octavia’s. Vinyl was bigger everywhere it counted: her ass was rounder, thicker, meatier. Her tits were bigger, heavier, but still perfectly firm. Even though they met as enemies, Vinyl felt so lucky to have met a woman who was not just her size but bigger.
And on top of that, her pussy was delectable. The taste washed over her senses, augmenting the sensations flowing from her pussy. Octavia had been modest about the skillfulness of her mouth, but she was good - her tongue was strong and quick and hungry. When they’d been fighting, their fists had barely made an impact, but Octavia’s tongue-lashing was already wracking her body with more pleasure than she could bear. Becoming a living weapon, an invincible giantess, had made her immune to seemingly any source of pain - but her capacity for pleasure had only grown.
And judging by the way Octavia squirmed above her, Vinyl was giving as good as she was getting. All thoughts of “winning” were behind her, but it still occurred to Vinyl that being on top would be fun. She braced one elbow against the ground and pushed off, rolling both their bodies over, once again pinning Octavia beneath her body. And Octavia’s body wasn’t the only thing beneath her; as they rolled over, Octavia’s ass turned a stately building to rubble and her shoulder blades crushed another, more modern one.
Let’s see, thought Vinyl, thinking back to the DC map she’d been looking at on her phone. That would have been… the national gallery? I wonder if anyone was in there.Well, it’s not my fault if they haven’t evacuated by now…
Squeezing Octavia’s luscious cheeks with both hands, Vinyl launched another attack on her pussy, swiping her tongue in rapid circles along her lips and swirling it around her clit. Vinyl was proud of her technique and the strength of her tongue, but her focus was degrading quickly as Octavia “returned fire” with her own attacks on Vinyl’s cunt. Neither of them necessarily believed that they’d “defeat” the other through sex… and yet, they each channeled all of their determination into making the other cum. It was a point of personal - and national - pride now, this race to make each other climax.
As they buried their faces in each others’ thighs, licking and grabbing at each other, they fought for the dominant position, rolling over each other, smashing their intertwined bodies into more and more structures - some old and distinguished, some sleek and modern, and some quite ordinary. Their bodies were like a steamroller, leaving a trail of destruction half a mile wide through America’s capitol.
Vinyl felt her limbs quivering, her whole body losing control as Octavia brought her closer to climax. She couldn’t lose, not like this - she’d never taken her job as America’s secret weapon as seriously as her superiors hoped she would, but now that it came down to eating pussy, she needed to win. Her mouth was moaning uncontrollably, but she did her best to keep her tongue under control, flicking it furiously against Octavia’s clit. Octavia, as far as Vinyl could tell, was just as far along as her; the Brit’s body shivered each time Vinyl’s tongue lashed at her love button. Just a little more, thought Vinyl, finding herself on the bottom, with Octavia’s pussy hovering above her face. Just a little more, and I’ll get to feel Octavia’s body as she comes, I’ll get to taste a fresh flood of pussy juice, and I’ll be the fucking winner…
The thought of making Octavia cum was exciting… too exciting, in fact. That extra spark of arousal was all her body needed to push itself over the edge and finally cum - and as she felt the feeling hit her, she groaned frantically, attacking Octavia’s clit with one final desperate assault before her climax overcame her. Within the first second of its buildup, Vinyl could tell this orgasm would be explosively powerful, hitting her with a force greater than any weapon built by mankind. She put all her desperation into one last circling motion, sweeping her tongue around the edges of Octavia’s clit - and at the very last moment, Vinyl got her.
The giantesses came together, their paired orgasms sending seismic waves through the city of DC. Their shuddering bodies, each one thirty-five hundred feet tall, were weapons of beautiful destruction, and their lovemaking was a heavenly, transcendent catastrophe. Nearby buildings, which had escaped the crushing weight of their bodies as they rolled over the city, now collapsed from the shockwaves their bodies produced. Further away, Vinyl and Octavia’s voices shattered windows as they each threw their heads back and cried out.
Clutching each other, steadying themselves against the other, the two giantesses rode out their orgasms until, panting, their bodies lay still. Octavia rolled off of Vinyl, lifted her head, and spoke weakly.
“In light of… this impasse,” she said, “Perhaps our nations may… negotiate. A new peace may be in order, given the evenly matched strength of their ultimate weapons.”
“Yeah,” said Vinyl, “I’ll talk to my bosses and try to convince them that peace sounds cool.” She propped herself up on her shoulders, gazing admiringly at Octavia’s flushed face and colossal round tits. “Hey, speaking of which… did I see you trying to intimidate the Senate? Why weren’t you talking to the President?”
“I have no interest in parleying with a mere figurehead,” said Octavia.
“Huh?” said Vinyl. “Naw, dude, the President isn’t like your royalty, he’s like… the commander-in-chief of the military, and he has a bunch of other powers…”
“Nonsense,” said Octavia. “The true authority lies with the King of the Senate.”
“King of the…” Vinyl titled her head. “Yeah, that’s not a thing, like, at all.”
Octavia scoffed. “Americans,” she said. “You don’t even know how your own country works.”
