Independence

“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?”