I explained what the last several weeks looked like, fighting, scavenging, my victories and defeats: an endless workout, each day ending curled up on hard soil.
Normal society tends to frown on Tinies taking action against little girls, even in self-defense. They don't think much of us, and they rarely take our side in any dispute.
The last thing I needed was to trip and land on my ass, helpless before the approaching spider. These bastards find my little hidey-hole and think they'll just move in.
The torn steel bit into the flesh, no problem, and I shoved the pole behind it with all my strength. I jiggled the pole, waggled it back out, stabbed again. This, over and over until I could wedge my hands into the incisions, meeting at the apex of the wedge of meat I'd carved. Fluids ran … Continue reading Living Alone
But I sensed something was up. You can just sense these things, when your personal bomb is about to drop.
After a couple of efficient, meaning-laden texts, my giantess agreed it would be a good idea for a couple of her friends to stop by.
She tacked "I hope you understand" on the end of it, which isn't a question and doesn't invite a response. What if I didn't understand?
It sounds strange, I know, for a tiny person to have become entirely reliant upon a giantess. For one, what are the odds I could find someone so gentle and understanding?