A Day in Giganta

A Day in Giganta

"That concludes this recording of Ecstasy in Purple by Adelard Cantacuzene. We at the Pania Federation of Jazz Musicians would like to thank you fo--"

Click. A wet finger flicked the ruin-carved switch of the phonogram, shutting the music off.

Quintus stepped out of the shower, his finger flicking in a circle as a spool of mana twisted the knob shut and the shower went to a trickle and died down. He gave his neck a couple of cricks as he dried his long black hair and stepped in front of the mirror.

"Mmm, looking good there, Quint. Nothing like a hot shower and a little bit of that new jazz to set me straight." Quintus dragged his hand over the smooth surface of his brown chin--it was supple, soft, a little feminine, but with that masculine charm.

Ding... The soft sound of a chiming bell echoed from the hallway clock before the steady tick of the second hand came along.

"Shit... It's 5! I better wake Snakes. Amé ain't gonna wait all day for me, especially if she skipped lunch today."

Quintus pressed his thick wool towel over his long, wet black hair and rushed out of the bathroom into his flat. He got to the carved wooden armoire and briefly split his focus, his eyes glowing blue as he imagined clothing flicking out from the cabinet and onto the bed.

A second later, a few hangers laden with some silk trousers, a double-breasted coat, and a tasseled blouse came flying out and landed on the bed. The hangers lifted through the air and flew back into the armoire as Quintus hurriedly slipped the outfit on.

He walked through his flat over the cool oak floors, narrowly dodging around his leather chesterfield as he made his way to the door. He reached for the handle and opened it, then shut it quickly as a hit of cool air struck his bare neck.

"Nuts! She's gonna bite my head off if I don't at least look half sane at the Blades." He stopped himself and grabbed a silk ascot from the hat rack, tied it around his neck in a cravat style, then fetched a bowler. He stopped himself again.

"Eh... naw. No hat tonight. It'd probably get lost anyway if she or one of the folks there got frisky tonight." Then he decided to toss it back on the rack.

He popped on a pair of black wingtips and made his way out the door. Warm sunlight bathed him and muddled with the cool spring air as he stepped out into the marble doorway of his apartment.

Quintus started to make his way down the steps in a hustle. They were a long spiral--a full 150 feet down--and about every 10 feet he passed a new platform leading to another marble archway like his own.

This whole set of human-sized apartments was carved into the bannisters of the larger frame of his neighbor's doorway. He was a proper arch giant, about 200 feet tall, and his door was even taller. Plenty of space for city planning to squeeze in a few dozen human and ley giant apartments in this block of the red-light district.

Quintus kept hustling till he hit the bottom step, walking out onto the massive platform that was his neighbor's archway. The floor and the door had a custom-carved pattern--a belly dancer, second grade--just like Quintus.

He made a mental note to send the neighbor a letter asking if the union had any new dances they'd come up with, but he shook his head. He was running late, and he sprinted for the carved set of human-sized stairs that ran along the middle of the massive doorway's stoop.

As he got to the townhouse's walkway, he looked out at the street: a set of high fences--one side 50 feet tall and the other only 10 feet--with rich green lawns and flower beds behind them that framed the way to the sidewalk and the bustling city street.

He started walking down the way.

"Hey Quint! Hold up, honey." Quint paused on his walk and looked up at the 50-foot-high fence to see an even taller figure behind it. She was a bodacious figure--lush caramel curves contained in a long pleated skirt and vest-and-blouse combo, with a suspiciously low-cut chest revealing an ample valley behind it.

His neighbor, Mrs. Psella, walked up to the fence, her watering can in hand as she waved down to him with a smile brighter than the sun, letting her ample chest wave to him too, as well. His cheeks reddened a bit at the sight of the 80-foot-tall lady.

"Quint, dear, it's been too long. You need to get out the house, honey!" she said, leaning on the iron-spiked fence, her hand letting go of the watering can as it floated away on a mana current and went about sprinkling the rose garden behind her.

"Hehe, fair enough, Mrs. Psella. Listen, I need to run. I'm in a rush right now, and that trolley could get here anytime."

"Oh ho, someone got a hot date this late in the afternoon? I bet it's Ms. Amédée, ain't it?" She leaned down low into that fence, her large, pretty face raising an eyebrow.

"Hehe, eh, maybe I do and maybe you're right."

"Oh, I just knew it. She's a real looker, Quinty-dear. You know I saw her on those train union ads down by the station. You're a lucky little devil, Quint--cute too." She gave him a wink, and he blushed back. Mrs. Psella's pink lips spread into a Cheshire grin at that.

"Anyway, honey, enough of me teasing. You gotta run, and I got a gift for you for your date."

"Oh really now? What's that? Something new from the university?" he asked as she reached into her pocket.

"Good guess, Quinty. Our friend Epi cooked up a little trinket. It's a sexy little number--I think she'll get her master's for this." Mrs. Psella had a tiny steel canister pinched between her fingers. She let go of it, and it floated down into Quintus's hands.

It looked like a cocktail shaker, and with a brief shake, it sounded like it was full of ice. "Uh, okay... what is it? Booze?"

"Nope, it's ice!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Epi said it's an adaptation or something from her witchcraft research--some ancient old spell or something for icy sensation play. Apparently, you pump mana into it and toss your favorite ingredients--and people--into it and make a delicious cocktail."

Quintus looked down at it, honestly surprised, and shrugged. "Okay... and how are you supposed to get someone in it?" The thing fit in his hand, after all.

"That's the best part. It and the ice are engraved. Fill it with mana--it'll grow to the right size and do the rest once everything and everyone is in there! No need to worry about the ice melting either."

"Huh, well that's convenient. Should be fun down at Green Blades," Quintus said as he tucked the cylinder into his breast pocket.

"Mmhmm. Pass it to Tassi--she'll figure it out. Anyway, you should have a date coming up, right?" Mrs. Psella asked as she laid her head into her hand and relaxed on the fence.

Quintus practically jumped at the realization and looked at his watch. "Nuts! I need to get a shine on! See you, Mrs. Psella." He started running down the walkway toward the street.

Mrs. Psella gave him a lazy wave goodbye, then gently licked her lips. "Mmm, I should really eat him up sometime--he has a cute run." She chuckled to herself and pulled the floating watering can back to her hand as she returned to her gardening.

Quintus made his way to the broad swell of the sidewalk. It was at least 75 feet tall and full of foot traffic ranging from his height to a couple hundred feet tall. It was always busy in the late afternoon in the city, and he quickly weaved his way into the sidewalk between the feet.

He moved around, gently bumping shoulders with other people his size, weaving around thighs that came up to his head, and dodging feet that ranged from his size to the size of his apartment. It was all quite the bit of activity, and it woke him--and his libido--up.

He shook his head, focusing as he got to the trolley stop. Getting aroused at his height while walking down the street was pretty common; after all, it was hard not to take a shine to someone big. He walked into the wooden doorway at the base of the trolley stop.

He stepped onto a platform carved of wood, intricate runes on it glowing as it lifted into the air, traveling through the wooden shaft. He reached the top and stepped out onto the platform. It was filled with folks from his height to three times it, and in front of that platform stood folks anywhere from 40 feet to 300 feet tall.

The street was wide--a mix of large long-distance trains ran on the mixed rails in the middle, periodically followed by hordes of carriages, each drawn by headless centaur-like statues animated with ghostly blue flames. He checked his watch and looked up at the massive flyers on the station walls, checking the schedule and new bulletins until he heard the loud chimes of the trolley bells.

The massive car pulled up--it was 400 feet tall and who knows how long, as it formed a solid wall of wood engraved with tiny runes smaller than his fingers. The doors opened up, and little platforms extended from the sides of the doorways as folks of all sizes filed out of the trolley and onto the sidewalk.

Once the flood cleared, a wooden bridge quickly extended from his platform to the opening doorway built into the trolley door's frame. He and everyone at the stop began to file in. He and the folks under 20 feet tall crossed over the walkway as the rest poured into the massive open tram door.

He walked through the trolley's mini doorway and climbed the stairwell down. It was all stairwells and corridors of fine wood, rich in the scent of oil and varnish, until he hit the lower section and exited into the seating area. It was a massive slew of seats built into the underside of the large-sized benches and chairs in the trolley. He was on his way to a set of chairs at the top of the benches in the open air of the trolley, but something caught his nose. It was earth-- a little musky and delightfully enticing. He followed the path down into the lower sections of the seating area.

Then he saw it--crowds of folks his size sitting in wooden benches, some chatting, reading papers, and others looking directly up at the rooftop wood slats. They filled the open seats beneath the dark plush cheeks of a massive woman, over 300 feet tall, sitting on the chair the seating area was built into. Her skirt-clad butt cheeks were softly pressing through the rooftop slats.

He inhaled, and a warm shiver went down his spine as he realized what the scent was. It was the smell of perfume and gentle body odor from the massive lady's posterior. It must have been laced with mana, because he felt his pants tightening as he couldn't help but stare up at the massive rooftop of cheeks as the lady idly shifted side to side atop the trolley's seating area. He shook his head and turned around, heading to the stairwell and climbing up it quickly.

He came up to the top of the giant benches and into the open air of the trolley. The light brightened up a bit as he saw the massive windows of the trolley and the dozens of giant heads sitting and standing across the trolley. He caught a glance of the giant woman sitting on the bench--he was standing right behind her head, her long silky blond hair like a wall in front of him and filling the air with the scent of her lilac shampoo.

She turned around and spotted Quintus. He was standing there, staring, and she gave him a warm smile. "Lost in thought there, Mister? Or just lost in me? Hehe." The massive woman giggled, her soft pink lips curling into a smile and filling the entire field of his vision as she chuckled. His heart skipped a beat before he rubbed a hand over his long, slicked-back hair.

"Hahaha... ah... um, sorry Miss, just got caught up I suppose. That's a really nice scent you're wearing--where'd you get your perfume from?"

"Oh, why thank you! It's just my shampoo, is all." She lifted her massive hand, raising it under her hair. It looked like a waterfall of gold in front of him, and a few strands brushed his body.

The hair felt silky to the touch--warm and heavy, like a weighted blanket dipped in lilac and her scent. "O... oh wow, Miss. That's, um... a really good shampoo. I'll have to remember it for my partner." He let out a gentle moan; that hair was pressing down heavily across his body with some direction. He could feel mana directing the strands as he looked up to the woman and saw her giving a knowing grin.

"Well, I'm glad you appreciate it. I could tell you the manufacturer... or maybe I can give it to your friend for you?" A few strands curled around his hips like a gentle band, giving a questioning squeeze into him. He gulped warmly and rubbed his hand into the silky hair. He had to control himself and ignore the stiffening erection in his pants.

"Eh hem, sorry Miss. I can just take the name. Um, maybe another time we could go together to check it out. You ride this line often, Miss?" The hair relented at his gentle rejection, and the woman smiled down at him knowingly. "Why, that sounds lovely, Mister?"

"Oh, Quintus. Quint is fine, though."

Her expression softened on him. "Mr. Quint--why, I quite like that. I would love to sometime. I take this line at the end of the week like clockwork. Let me get your info and I'll send you the name sometime." Her wrist was held up to him, the watch atop it held to the top of the bend right in front of him, easily twice his size and her hand radiating warmth over him.

He nodded and reached his own wrist out. "Why of course, Miss."

"Oh, Dia is just fine." Her watch connected to his, and a flow of mana passed between the two. The name and address popped into his mind as he smiled and returned the same to her. Her head gave a gentle turn as she lowered her wrist and the trolley came to a stop.

"Well, Mr. Quint, this is my exit. Me and my partner would love to see you again sometime soon."

She began to stand, her hand lowering and pressing gently onto the bench top next to him. It was massive--far bigger than him--and gently brushed into the side of his body, applying pressure as she stood up and made him shift into it a bit.

"You and your partner? Er, well--you have a very good day too, Miss. I'll see you around," he said, righting himself by laying his hand on the side of hers. She winked back to him with a smile and stood, her fingers lifting from the seat and waving goodbye to him. She turned around to walk away toward the trolley door, and Quintus caught a better look at the plush curve of her backside.

On the right side of her butt cheek was a much smaller woman, completely flattened--paper-thin--and blushing with an embarrassed look on her face. She was stuck to the soft curve of Dia's butt cheek, practically smushed into the cotton fabric of her skirt.

Dia's hand came down and caressed over the flattened woman's form almost lovingly. Dia's fingers squeezed into the surface of her ass, kneading the flattened woman's form into the plush surface and the fabric of her skirt. The woman on her cheek closed her eyes and let out a stifled moan.

Dia gave Quintus a look over her shoulder, a smirk on her lips as she stepped off the trolley. Quintus gave a lascivious look, biting his lower lip as his pants tightened. "Oh, her and her partner..."

The trolley finally stopped at his location. He had plopped onto a chair on the top of the bench since Dia left and was people-watching. The massive trolley, as it rolled to a stop, only had a half dozen or so people in the large seating section--a mix between 40 and 200 feet tall--all large, going about their day. Down below in the massive benches, there were hundreds of people his size and below a height of 20 feet, and a wave of them began to file out onto the miniature platform at the trolley stop.

He followed along and made his way to the sidewalk. He had finally arrived--his destination: the Green Blades Coffee and Wine House. The premier bar of the red-light district in the city of Green Blades, it was a massive edifice of stone brickwork and stained-glass windows.

"Finally, time to get on in and grab a seat. Hopefully, she hasn't gotten here first." He checked his watch--just a little before six--and he made his way toward the smaller of the three entries. They were going to meet in the smaller main bar, an establishment for people 6 to 80 feet tall--a nice, cozy little spot to feel good and intimate in.

He found the large oak doors, 80 feet tall, but with miniature doors right in the center for guests. A doorwoman about the same height as the door stooped there, full tailcoat suit and a derby hat on as she looked down and gave him a wink.

"Good to see you again, Quint. Get on in there--Tassi is on the bar tonight."

"Thanks, Bren! Hey, if you see you-know-who, tell her I got here first!" Quintus grinned up at Brenna as she opened the doors wide for him.

The bar interior opened up, and a wave of rich, sensuous scents--alcohol, sex, and music--came flooding out onto him with warm orange light.

He stepped into the bar. Rich marble and granite tile stretched from the door to the bar before him, and the place was bustling. It was Friday night, and everyone was out starting early, as usual. The crowd at Green Blades Coffee and Wine House was always an eclectic mix, he thought. He walked down the center aisle, dodging well-made shoes, heels, and waiters and prostitutes shooting back to and fro.

Everyone in the neighborhood stopped by--government managers, musicians looking for new venues to play, chefs and bakers, union tradespeople--the whole nine yards. In this part of the city, business and pleasure mingled at all hours.

He moved through, listening to the tunes in the air, and swiveled toward the stage. It was another new band--a quintet in that fresh genre that had just come about a couple hundred years ago: jazz. They were live like a wire tonight, and the lead member, a flutist, was piping out a tune in time to the rhythmic gyrations of a showgirl dancer on the stage. She was some 70 feet tall in a sequined bodysuit with a bright multicolor plumage on her hips, and she was swaying along to the music for all to see.

Quintus gave a whistle along with the crowd before heading to the bar. He passed a myriad of folks--everyone from femme to masc and all sizes--mixed up, lounging away, cavorting with their partners for the evening or getting into some lascivious activities over drinks. He spotted a coworker, a tall woman maybe 50 feet high in a fitted vest and top hat, her cigarette hanging from her painted lips as she caressed the chin of her smaller lover, a woman half her size. She was pouting in embarrassment from the public display, but a half second later she took a swig of her cocktail and reached up, grabbing her coworker's collar and dragging her down into a deep kiss.

Their friends watched on, cigarettes in hand and drinks being passed around, and he turned onto the bar. The bar was a massive thing--a mountain of hardwood, topped with marble that stood maybe 30 feet high. It was a fairly small bar, made for the smaller spaces and shorter giants, and he found a nicely carved stairwell for smaller folks like him. He stepped up it, passing through the human-scale box seats full of benches and tables packed to the brim with chattering crowds of people his size and just a tad bigger. He made his way to the countertop and spotted her.

A 60-foot-tall fox woman--her muzzle and fur a rich tawny orange, and her face a bit bookish but gentle. Her figure, though, was robust and thick in all the right places--but he would never say that to her face. He waved up as she spotted him.

"Hey Tassi! How's the weather up there, you nerd?"

Tassi grinned a toothy smile, drying a rocks glass with a cloth as she stepped up. Her bodacious figure was packed nicely into a pair of trousers and a starched white shirt beneath her tight apron as she loomed over him. She pressed the glass close into the countertop--a bit too close for comfort.

"Doing good, short stuff. You here to make a mess again, or are you gonna finally be a big cocktail for me?"

Quintus chuckled back, looking up at Tassi as he casually leaned on the massive glass. "Naw, it's not like that tonight. I got a date! Hot one too." He grinned wide at Tassi, and she rolled her eyes as she started to lean on the bar top.

"Uh huh. You know, if you've been with them for five years, I don't think you can call it a hot date. It's just going out for drinks at this point at the local pub." She raised her eyebrows, giving him a look that said he should know better.

He kept grinning through it, though. "What can I say? I'm a romantic. She does things to me every time I see her."

"Hmmph, sure thing. Well, you aren't wrong on one thing though--she is hot. Might give Edel a run for her money sometime, if she ever stopped by the university and got licensed." Tassi tilted her eyes over to another section of human-sized box seats--their mutual friend Edelweiss, a prostitute from the connecting bordello, the Verdigris Kiss.

She was in the middle of a striptease for the audience of the box seats, and it seemed to have taken quite the lurid turn. Her figure--Junoesque and curvaceous--had a slick sheen of sweat and cyprine that dripped down the curve of her thighs. Her skirt and bra, both scarves, hung off her body--damp and having been tossed away. She was in the process of breathlessly moaning as her fingers pressed over the curves of her honey pot in slow strokes, while a helper--a smaller prostitute--stood between her legs, slowly licking up the curves of them.

"Quite the show, isn't it, Quint?"

Quint was silent as he watched intently. It took Tassi tapping her large finger on the back of his head for him to snap out of it.

"Y... yeah, fantastic act. It would be quite the sight to see my partner doing the same."

"Uh huh. Well, lover boy--since I don't see her around, how about we get to a drink? We are a bar, after all."

Quint readjusted his cravat, straightening himself out as he nodded. Tassi grinned at him, then gave a knock on the counter. A little marble trap door flipped up, and out popped a tiny fox--same size as quintus--who looked like a replica of Tassi down to the glasses and the same starched shirt. This fox, however, had her bob cut parted to the right instead of the left.

"Hey Tessi, I'm cooking up a cocktail. Go ask everyone if they want some."

Tess, Tassi's twin sister, nodded. "Can do, sis. Is it that Bee's Knees you cooked up last night? Oh! Heya, Quint!" She looked over her shoulder as she asked and gave a wave to Quint.

"Yeah, same thing. Bee's Knees with some lemon and lime zest, a little cardamom syrup, and that dragonwood-infused gin I made last year." Tessi nodded and started to head back down the stairs to the human-scale box seats. As she did, Quint remembered something and reached into his breast pocket.

"Hey, Tass, I got something for you. Gift from Mrs. Psella and Epi."

Tassi looked down, surprised, as she grabbed a bottle of gin and a cut lemon. "Oh? What is it?"

Quint produced the little silver shaker and held it up with a shake. Tassi raised her eye and reached to pluck it between her fingers.

"Apparently it's a bit of magic ice. Epi came up with it for making cocktails with people easier. She around tonight? She could probably explain it."

Quint started to look around, but Tassi waved him off. "Don't worry about it. She's in tonight, but she's busy with dinner. Some big girl her size wanted the full meal experience."

"Ah, gotcha, gotcha. No worries then. Anyway, Mrs. Psella said if you pour a little mana in, it should grow. Toss everything in and you get a cocktail."

Tassi raised her eyebrow, looking at the little cylinder, and let a bit of mana flow into it. A few runes glowed along its polished surface, and it quickly expanded to fill her paw. It was a massive thing now--a proper-sized shaker for a lady Tassi's size.

Surprised at the size change, she opened up the shaker and saw the carved ice inside. It was still nice and cold and had quite a few runes carved into the surface. Recognizing a few, she got a decent idea of what it did, then smirked.

"Well, looks like we can spice this cocktail up a bit. Quint, step aside."

Quint moved away toward the service side of the bar top, and Tassi reached over to the bar's ornate wooden edge. She grabbed it and pressed down slightly till a click chimed out, and with a smooth tug up, a large section of the bar flipped up, revealing the small box seating area. A couple dozen tables and booths were splayed around, with as many people lounging in them. The conversations continued with only a few looking up briefly before returning to their drinks, as waiters and waitresses ran about and a few dancers, maybe 10 feet tall, shimmied and shook across some of the smaller stages.

Tassi looked into the small box seating area and raised her voice a bit. "Hey all! Got a special treat I'm cooking up--Bee's Knees--but I need a volunteer. Who wants to be a cocktail tonight?" She gave a flirtatious grin as the bar crowd half-listened and a few eager hands shot up.

Tassi spotted a familiar face among the crowd. "Hey Archi <3" She leaned over on the leaflet's edge, letting her modest bosom press onto the wood for the small crowd and Archibald to see. She gave a half-lidded look down to Archibald, practically blowing a kiss to him as she spoke.

"I know you're eager for a bit of fun tonight. Get on up here. I want a sip of you." She held the shaker up, snug to her bosom with the lid open, and smoothly dragged her clawed fingertip across the lid.

Archibald stood up, hot under the collar and a little tipsy, but quickly grinned back. "I'd love to, Tas... come get me." He gave his chin a stroke and a crooked smile back up to her as she chuckled.

Tassi reached down and grabbed her horny volunteer, wrapping her massive soft-furred paw around his hips. She lifted him close to her face and blew him a little kiss as she let her thumb press over his lap. His cock was stiffening up right under her as he made googly eyes at her and gave his hip a slow grind into her grip.

She didn't waste any more time as she deposited him into the open shaker. He fell onto the ice cubes, the slick surface causing him to slide down between the cool cubes.

Tassi reached behind her, grabbing a juicer and squeezing a few large lemons into the shaker, followed by a mix of fresh simple syrups and gin. Archibald felt the fragrant citrus juice and sticky cardamom syrup pour over him, with a hint of Tassi's mana that made it feel like a crisp, cool bath over his body. He moaned a little before Tassi gave him a final wink and closed the lid over him. She hoisted the resized container up and began to shake it, as moans of pleasure echoed alongside the kachinking sounds of ice. The man was melted into the liquid by the steady stream of mana Tassi poured into the shaker, mixing him into the drink.

Tassi popped the top off the shaker and tilted it over the crystalline ridge of the massive coupe glass that Quintus and Tessi sat in front of. Out poured a frothy, opaque yellow mixture that was sweet with the scent of honey, lemon, and lime, making the taste buds water as the rich wyrmwood of the gin muddled nicely into the cocktail. What really got the two going was that richly earthy scent of arousal, though. This Bee's Knees was far more opaque and cloudy than usual, and a low moan could be heard as it poured.

In the frothy yellow liquid poured the horny molten contents of the man, and as the glass's contents settled, his face--stretched out and translucent--sat like a film atop the drink. He was in a state of bliss, the creamy froth clearly more than shaken air bubbles, as Tassi purred down, looking at the creation.

"Well I'll be--for a fraction of the mana, I have a freshly made Bee's Knees à la Archibald. Everyone grab their cup--this one's going to be delectable, won't it, Archi?" Tassi said, as Tessi began to gather up the glasses of the crowd before climbing her stepladder up to the massive cocktail glass. She pulled out a bottle of water, closed her eyes, and let the liquid tug free from the bottle and wash over the glasses on her tray, cleaning them. She took each glass one by one and scooped it into the giant cocktail glass.

Tessi took the filled tray down into the box seats as a few waiters stepped up and started distributing them throughout. Each glass had a little reflection of Archibald's face on the surface of the liquid, and he was clearly blissed out. With the glasses out, Tassi grabbed her own massive cocktail glass, and the crowd and Quint joined in. Every patron in the small-sized box seats got a delightful sip of their compatriot Archi tonight, but Tassi got the lion's share as she poured his liquid form into her muzzle and slowly swished him about on her tongue with a deep purr. The flavors of wyrmwood, citrus, and arousal made her shiver in delight as she gulped him down greedily.

Quintus got a few more drinks in as he lounged around the bar countertop, mingling with Tassi and Tessi as they went about their business, and with a few big passerby here and there. He was looking around the counter when he spotted a familiar face. A tall woman with a buxom chest and refined features was sitting at the countertop. She was maybe about 40 feet high, in a form-fitting double-breasted suit, and was in the middle of what looked like a delectable sandwich. It was his friend Annora--a mayor in one of the neighboring small towns--and she was dressed to the nines as her soft pink lips sank into the sandwich with a slow bite.

He wandered over, nicely buzzed from his Archi Bee's Knees, to Annora. He hadn't seen her in weeks. It made sense though--she was so busy running that small town, there was no way she could make it to the city more than once in a blue moon.

He stopped though, once he saw how she held that sandwich. She had only one hand gripping the thick slice of bread, and her lips were curled into a perverse smile, her cheeks a rosy red. In her tight grip, snugly pressed between the bread and crisp accoutrements, was a woman biting her lip, stifling a moan as her fingers were buried deep between her thighs. Quintus didn't have to look closely; he could see the sheen, and just under the din of the chattering crowd, he could hear the oh-so-familiar squelching.

Those two were in the middle of quite an intense meal, and Quintus was just about to turn away and leave them to it--until he noticed Annora's other hand. He followed her arm down, her biceps bucking back and forth slow and rhythmically, and he saw just over the lip of the counter. His nostrils flared as he caught a familiar warm scent--Annora's free fingers were buried deep into her folds, easing over her gooey peach and rubbing that morning dew into herself like no tomorrow. He couldn't take his eyes away from that as he licked the underside of his molars, staring intently as his hand laid on the stiff bulge in his silk trousers.

Annora's body shuddered as she dipped her finger into her canal and the knuckle of her thumb pressed snugly over her clit. She looked down at the sandwich like a lover and saw her little prize of a girlfriend and took quite the slow, graphic lick--laying her taste buds into the nude, dark sauce-covered curves of Daifa's little body. Daifa roiled under that tongue, catching her breath with a sharp inhale as she moaned out and shook like a leaf. Annora tightened her grip on the slices of bread, squeezing Daifa down snugly, pressing her with a slight squish into the sandwich as Daifa orgasmed harshly, and Annora could clearly taste that salty, sexy flavor of Daifa's climax washing over her tongue.

Quintus pursed his lips with a slow suck of them, until he felt a thick paw on his shoulder. Tessi had her face turned away, a blush showing under her orange fur. "L... let's leave 'em to it."

Quintus coughed, clearing his throat as he turned. "Mmm... uh... let's." As he began to walk away, he heard a warm, soft crunch and the sound of teeth sinking through bread. Daifa was moaning again in another orgasm as the two walked down the stairs into the box seats of the bar.

"Hey Tassi, what is it about couples snacking on each other that gets the blood flowing?" Quintus asked, leaning against the side rail of the box seat.

"I don't know--maybe it's just how horny you are? You were staring pretty hard at Annora and Daifa up there. Were you wishing you were in her sandwich instead?" Tessi walked around, flicking her finger as a glass floated up and plopped onto her tray.

"Hmph..." Quintus huffed, trying to hide a blush before sipping his gin and cardamom soda. "Maybe... I mean, Annora did look..."

"Hot? Hungry? Mayoral and ready to dine? Heh." Tessi chuckled, closing her eyes as her finger danced in the air. The tray lifted from her palm and floated up the stairs until a trap door popped open and a massive fuzzy paw reached through to grab it.

"Thankies, Tess!"

"You're welcome, Tass!" she called back with a wave as the hand vanished and the hatch closed. "Anyway, if you're so worked up, why not just ask to join? I'm sure Annora would love a second helping melting all over Daifa. It wouldn't be the first time."

Quintus laughed and leaned back on the box seat rail. "Ha ha... fair enough. I would, but I'm still waiting for you-know-who--who seems to be running late!" He shouted over the rail, but no estranged girlfriend appeared. However, a very large door--some 100 feet tall--leading to the Verdigris Kiss did swing open.

From the brothel passage stepped an equally tall figure dressed in a sharp white skirt suit that hugged her slender curves and revealed just a hint of cleavage. She smiled with ease, her plush lips painted a rich purple, set in a lovely face of burnt brown skin. Her long, curly, sandy blonde hair clung to one side of her face, cascading over her back down to her hips.

She sashayed in with the practiced grace of one of the Verdigris Kiss's finest, just as Quintus turned his head. His face lit up in a warm smile as he leaned over the rail, waving excitedly.

"Epi! Babe! Get over here!" he shouted, waving his arm in the air with the giddy energy of intoxication. Epi returned the smile with a slow lick of her lips as she sashayed over, her footfalls heavy on the wooden boards. Her head nearly brushed the low, 100-foot-high ceiling. She knelt down, her massive thighs spreading wide across the bar floor, pressing into the backs of several smaller patrons. They startled, then melted into the plush warmth with grins of recognition.

"Well, well, if it isn't our little lover boy, Quinty," she purred in a warm rumble. Her large, elegant finger swept down into the box seat, curling under Quintus's chin to lift his face toward hers. He grinned and leaned into her touch, resting his arms on her finger as he reached up and kissed her thumb.

"I didn't expect to see you, hon. I thought you were still in North Pania on that expedition."

She smiled as Quintus kissed her finger, then wrapped it gently around his small body, scooping him up to sit before her plush lips. They descended in a soft, affectionate nibble over his shoulder and face before pulling away with a smile.

"Mmm, that was last week. I just got back to the city. Did you get my gift?" she asked, her warm, cinnamon-scented breath washing over him as she licked her lips.

"Why yes, I did. Mrs. Psella passed it to me earlier--Tassi has it. Nice shaker, by the way. That's a real nifty gadget you cooked up. Going back for that Master's in Witchcraft is really paying off, hon," he said, letting his hands trace along her fingers as he gazed at her lips and eyes, leaning in to give her lower lip a playful little bite.

She smiled at the bite. "Heh. Well, two things. One--the gift isn't the shaker. It's the ice cubes inside it." She set him gently back in the box seat as she crouched down on her feet.

"Oooh... the cubes. No wonder they didn't melt on the train."

"Mmhmm. A neat little discovery from a ruin site the local village was preserving. They had a delightful tradition of ice-based cuisine--and some rather fun transformations for eager volunteers at their festivals. I figured a little adaptation to the ice could make for some... stimulating sensation play." Quintus raised an eyebrow and glanced at a half-full glass of Archibold.

"I think the cubes did a bit more than sensation play, dear." She grinned, chuckling as she watched the grinning face of Archibold slowly melt into the liquid of the glass. "Well, what can I say? I think melting as an ice cube rubs over your body is quite the sensation."

"Riiight... should I expect to be in your drink tonight, hon? I've got a hot date I'm supposed to be at."

Epi chuckled. "You mean our date? Last I checked, Amé was our girlfriend."

"Touche. Though tonight was scheduled for just us, considering someone was off digging up ancient culinary techniques from the Arctic Circle. Which begs the question--why are you back so soon?"

Epiphania looked briefly across the bar's countertop, searching for something, before smiling. "Well played. That leads me to my second point, dear. I didn't come back for the Master's. I've always been a double major--Witchcraft and Sex Work Studies--and the reason for my return just rolled out of the kitchen. A cutie requested a licensed professional for a little romp through my tummy, and I simply can't pass up a dinner as big as me."

"Really?" Quintus stepped onto the railing and then over the edge, falling briefly before two glowing circlets of light formed beneath his feet, catching him and gently lifting him upward. Epiphania shook her head fondly, then raised her hand to meet him, catching his feet atop her palm as the magic dissipated and he floated over the counter.

"Why thank you, dear. Mmm... well, she certainly looks delicious. No wonder you cut the trip short."

"Oh, I didn't cut it short. I just work fast," she grinned as the two of them turned to the kitchen doors.

A 40-foot-tall redhead pushed a massive steel-engraved cart glowing with runes through the enormous 100-foot-tall double doors. Her hands hovered above the cart, a soft blue glow flowing from her palms and propelling the heavy load forward. Atop the cart lay a giant woman--100 feet tall and even curvier than Epiphania--nude and bound in a frog tie on a gleaming silver platter. Her plush, pale curves glistened under a sheen of melted butter and herbs that dripped across her form.

She squirmed and moaned as steam rippled off her skin, and the hum of conversation in the room dimmed as the crowd turned to gaze at the bound feast. Her flushed skin gleamed, and her jaws slowly sank into a large apple nestled between her pink lips.

"Mmm... she personally requested the dinner experience. Fresh-rubbed and very, very lightly roasted. Anyway, hon, I'll catch up with you and Amé after dinner. I think my place will do just fine tonight." She leaned down and kissed the back of Quint's head as he snapped out of his trance. He turned around in her palm and returned the kiss, pressing his face affectionately into Epiphania's massive lower lip.

"Sounds like a plan. Catch us later--once she starts churning."

"Always." A heart practically curled on her lips as she set him gently back into the box seat.

Tessi strolled up, bumping him playfully on the shoulder as she handed him a crystalline glass filled with a rich purple cocktail.

"Well--dinner, show, and a drink?"

"Duh."

Quintus let out a small burp, knocking back a glass of gin and cardamom-flavored soda as he lounged into the leather chesterfield. Tassi always made a good stiff drink, and between the booze, the smell of sex in the air, the merrymaking all around, and Epi's loud slurps and chomps into her moaning meal he could practically melt into this chair and spend all year here.

Honestly, he could. There were no real obligations in society. You work when you want, where you want, and if you want to. You could spend all day, every day, eternally lounging between the bars, brothels, and theaters doing nothing till the day you passed. He, however, knew that life of leisure wasn't for him. For some, it was--but he needed activities. Plus, the belly from all the relaxation would kill him--spiritually, at least.

Other people would travel near and far for a sight of that though, but that wasn't his appeal in dance. His society never knew money or markets. It was all labor for the sake of society, and he liked it. His chosen profession was dance--he could twist and sashay with the best--and it was how he met his lover.

His reminiscing was shot, though, as he heard loud footsteps over the background noise of the bar. A lovely set of legs he couldn't take his eyes off began walking with a slow, hypnotic rhythm that pulled him in. Even if he were sober, what he saw would have him spellbound, as two thighs--a deep mocha brown and bare except with a lounge skirt made of giant peacock feathers--came up to the box seats. With the bar top ceiling down, he could see above the waist, but the giantess in front of him stopped in front of the box seat, clearly not just for a drink, but a full show to the small audience of hundreds sitting between the levels.

Apparently, she received a drink, as the sound of a heavy glass settling onto the countertop above him rang out, followed by the gentle scrape of a massive chair fit for someone Tassi's size--about 60 feet--which was pulled into center view of the box seat. Whoever this beautiful lady was, she settled right in, dead center in his view, sitting down. Her thighs were together, and that skirt was barely concealing what was underneath.

He leaned forward, looking closer--and then, they opened up, almost as if hearing his thoughts. He grabbed his glass and looked in, not blinking, as he saw a rich valley laid bare in front of him. Thick green and blue feathers formed a canopy over the soft curve of her thighs, and right at the center sat a pair of pink panties over a mound he could trace the curves of through that thin little tapestry trying to conceal them.

He didn't normally feel this way looking at someone else, but he was getting worked up. Then he noticed it... the panties were damp. Just a little spot--and it was like something hotwired into his brain. He caught a deep feeling of warmth... scent... and arousal. This lady had just made a mental connection with him by mana, and his cock shot bolt upright as his composure faltered.

That's when it blocked his view--a massive elegant hand, mocha-colored with a light palm, reaching into the box seat and coming right for him. He didn't want to escape that hand no matter where it took him, and he stood and let those soft, warm fingers wrap around him and take him where he needed to be.

A rush of air, and a few seconds later, he was held up above the countertop, the hand sitting there on an arm that was lovingly perched on the fine wood. And sitting in front of him, with a face the Model's Union would kill for--dressed in fine-lined makeup and a bandeau made of feathers and silk over her short silky bob-cut hair--was the woman of his dreams.

"Hello there, lover boy. Did you miss me?"

He gave a wet swallow, then a slow stretch of his neck upwards as he felt that gentle palm press right into the stiffness of his erection in a heavy, deliberate grind. It took effort not to whimper, and he looked back into those eyes, goofy.

"Yes I did, Amédée."

Amédée licked her turquoise-painted lips slowly, and he was the only thing tasty in them. His pants were not going to make it.

Amédée dragged her free hand gently over her lips, pulling a mix of saliva and lipstick onto it--made slicker still by a little tweak of magic. She reached down and dipped a clawed finger into the hem of her pink panties, opening them up. A fresh wift of warmth, perfume, and arousal hit his nose in a targeted wave--no one else in the room could smell this. It was piped straight to him by a careful guideline of mana.

His whole body quaked in her grasp, each squeeze sinking into him with a slow, rhythmic knead--his bones and muscles softened in her magic like down, aching to be molded by her hands. He was putty for her, and his hips dragged and pumped slowly into her palm. Her eyes were half-moons of approval and want, and she grazed her teeth with her tongue as he hung there, feet dangling above the open scoop of fabric. A few clear lines of aroused dew clinging from her folds to the silky material told him all he needed to know.

Tassi and the bar staff had long since turned away to attend to others. They knew--when folks got into it, you left them be till they called. The bar floor was open game: equal parts drinkery and rolling orgy, spreading from the brothel as the night deepened and the juices flowed.

Amédée let go, and he fell. A brief freefall, his vision full of the feathered curves of her stomach--until wet fabric caught his feet and the rest of him. He slotted right in with a slick pop, toes pressed to the edge of her folds, his bare cock--free and pulsing agains't her nooky nook as it drooled over him. His field of vision was all her: rich skin and heat, his back pressed into the damp canopy of those panties. Her hips lifted slightly, and his body slid under her pelvis before she sat. Her immense weight--soft, warm--pressed over him, mana molding him like dough. His hips and legs softened, flattened ever so slightly beneath her pubis. His cock and chest were drenched in her slow, dripping arousal as the panties snapped shut, holding her close around him.

His face smushed to her clit, mouth and nose drowned in cum, body soaked in heat.

His fingers moved with knowing care: pressing into her folds, kneading in slow, tender rhythms. Small against her sex, but practiced and gentle, his touch worked with love. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth wide, taking in the round orb of her clit and latching on like a teat bigger than his head. He suckled tight--soft and slow--with heavy, wet sucks.

Amédée, for all her poise, laid both hands flat on the bar's countertop and leaned over, eyes shut, letting out slow, stifled moans as the sensations between her legs pulled her toward the night's first climax.

The box seats below were rapt. Chatter dulled to murmurs as eyes fixated. Some were already starting their own action, worked up by the show. That section of box seats simmered in heat just as Amédée let out a halted cry--familiar to many in the bar. Soft grins spread across several faces, including Tassi's.

She walked over, her muzzle shifting from fox to full wolfish grin, hovering above Amédée, who lay face-down on the bar. Tassi leaned in, her plush vulpine lips just centimeters from Amédée's, letting her warm breath whisper into Amédée's canal.

"If you make a mess... you clean it up. Tongue only, dear."

"Uuuurr." A low growl escaped Amédée. She didn't even lift her head--only shook it side to side, her body shuddering against the counter. A tight whimper followed--orgasm had hit, and the leather seat below her was beginning to soak.

Quintus's body was melting--figuratively and literally. The heat of Amédée's folds surrounded him like a sauna, laced with magic that oozed like a flood. Amédée was a fountain--woman, draw, and raw--and his legs and fingers dissolved into the cyprine of her sex. The loss of his extremities to her juices, and the relentless press of her body, made him break. He shot a thick load of seed, splattering the lower lips of her sex and mixing with the torrential flood washing over him.

Everything was slick and blurred--him, her, the folds--and he was as much a part of her dew as her lover-turned-toy, the fusion wrenching the orgasm from him. Her silk panties bulged and quivered with his muffled cries as she gushed, and he latched tighter onto her clit. Her fingers pressed down over the curve of his small body, forcing a snug grind as she rode the rhythm of her pleasure. Her head lifted from the countertop, eyes closed, cooing in bliss.

Her arm seized as her breath hitched, then gave way to shallow cries as she pushed her body to keep moving--rubbing herself through an orgasm that threatened to shatter her. Her toy worked tirelessly, and when her strength faltered, he suckled and squeezed, melting further into her and pushing her over the final crest.

It was three orgasms--but between the public display and the overwhelming stimulation, they left her shuddering in waves of aftershock on the countertop.

Tassi walked back to Amédée's spot at the bar. She loomed over her with a gentle grin, a washcloth in hand.

"Well, dear Amé, I think your little show earned you a pass on using your tongue tonight. Here."

Tassi raised her hand above Amédée and opened it. The thick washcloth drifted down onto Amédée's head, covering it.

"Go ahead and clean up with that."

Tassi grinned warmly as Amédée--face still down on the bar top--lifted one hand with a raised middle finger. Tassi leaned in close to her ear.

"Aww, I'll fuck you too. Later, dear."

Tassi giggled at the muffled hmmph from under the cloth. She pulled a fresh washcloth from her bartender's apron and began wiping around Amédée.

Amédée inhaled sharply, trying to regain herself, fingers digging into the cool marble and wood of the bar. She slowly lifted one shoulder and peeled the cloth from her head. Her hair and bandeau were a well-earned mess, and her face--between the drool and the smudged mascara--wasn't faring much better.

She stood slowly, her skin pulling from the leather chair with a sticky pop. A shiver ran down her spine as cool air kissed her damp thighs. She tugged the feathered hem of her dress down over her rear, catching a few grinning glances as she did.

A glass of warm soapy water clinked down beside her as Tassi passed with a wink. Amédée snatched it up, shot Tassi a playful grimace, then dipped the cloth and began wiping down the chair. The leather was thoroughly soaked. A mix of embarrassment, arousal, and smug pride bubbled in her chest. It really was a sexy scene.

Once finished, she set the cloth and glass aside. Her thighs briefly pressed together.

Quintus squirmed--half solid, half cream in her panties--and gave her folds a slick squeeze and lick that made her knees wobble. She laid a hand over her mound, gently pressing down--not to stop him, but to coax him into slowing--as she began walking toward the bathroom.

But her path was blocked.

Seated on the floor was a tall, shapely woman--easily twice Amé's height, perhaps 100 feet tall--and clad in the tattered remnants of a once-elegant white skirt suit. Her back rested against the bar, her head nearly brushing the top shelves. Long curly hair clung messily to her face, breasts, and back.

Her belly, however, was as immense as she was: bloated, taut, and marked with the visible imprint of a woman deep in orgasm--her form just as disheveled as the clothes wrapped around her.

The woman's burnt brown features turned toward Amédée, who was already smiling.

"Why, Epi--was dinner enjoyable, love?" Amédée asked, warm and teasing.

Her mutual lover Epiphania grinned down at her and extended an arm, her large hand curling around Amédée's hips in a firm squeeze.

"Mmm, it was lovely. Almost as good as your little show, Amé. How's dear Quinty doing down there?"

Amédée melted into Epiphania like a cat, her arm curling around her friend's neck, hand slipping under the hair to caress her cheek. She leaned in, pressing her chest and hips into Epiphania's lithe, towering frame. Brushing aside a lock of hair, Amédée placed a wet kiss on her forehead.

Amédée's hand traced the soft swell of Epiphania's belly. Inside, the woman squirmed in pleasure, her muffled moans pulsing against the taut skin.

"Mmmm... he's lovely down there. He's gone starlight, baby."

Epiphania purred, "Or maybe he just slipped into the gutter honey--dripping right through the fabric. Want me to clean it up?"

She smirked and drew Amédée close, pressing a warm kiss to her chest and neck. Amédée melted into her lips, fingers wandering over Epiphania's cheek and the cool stud of her septum ring.

"M... maybe. But if you're not careful, Quinty might drown."

"Mmm. You just want your dessert whole and squirming tonight, don't you?"

"Maybe..."

There was something perfect about being embraced by a lover back in town. Quintus squirmed eagerly--pressing closer to the warmth of Epiphania's voice. She grinned, gave Amédée's chest a soft suckle, then slid a large finger beneath her dress, pushing into the molten little curve of Quintus's body through soaked panties.

Amédée's toes curled as she leaned into the thick digit. The pressure against her slick folds left her weak-kneed. She braced herself against Epiphania's breast, fingers kneading soft flesh like a cat. Epiphania just bit her lip, watching Amédée squirm through the aftershocks.

"You know, Amé... seems a shame to waste all this. How about dinner here?"

She began to grind her finger slowly, pressing Quintus deeper into the slick heat. Amédée gasped softly, her face resting against Epiphania's skin.

"Ah... l-let me ask. Honey?"

Her thighs squeezed together in a slow, pulsing rhythm.

Quintus's world was a bath of thick nectar. His gooey arms melted into the slick walls of Amédée's vulva; his face pressed against the warm pink of her clit. The squeeze of her thighs and damp fabric overwhelmed him. Though the voices above were muffled, the heat and touch told him everything. He nodded eagerly, nose and tongue pressing deeper.

Amédée moaned, heat rolling through her belly. She clutched one breast, grinding against Epiphania's finger.

"Mmm... he says yes."

Epiphania cooed, then pressed her thumb to Amédée's panties and pinched.

"Then let's get dinner started."

With a slow, wet peel, she drew the panties down. Steam curled into the air as nectar and ribbons of Quintus clung to the glistening folds. Epiphania licked her lips, lowering her mouth. Her breath, scented of lilac and champagne, washed over Amédée as she gently pulled the panties free.

Amédée leaned into the heat of Epiphania's lips, lifting one leg, then the other. Epiphania closed her mouth around Amédée's head and chest in a slow, teasing kiss. Amédée tensed, then began to tremble as a fresh orgasm overtook her. Epiphania held her between her lips, tongue curling slowly over her face, coaxing her through the crest.

When the shudders faded, Epiphania released her. The feathers of Amédée's bandeau clung damply to flushed skin.

Epiphania looked at her with affection, the soaked panties still pinched between her fingers, Quintus's glistening form painted across the inner fabric. Amédée licked her lips as Epiphania raised them. She opened wide--turquoise lips parting into a dark pink cavern.

Quintus saw that waiting maw--wet, stretching, ready. Epiphania's finger nudged him forward into the soft carpet of her tongue. His semi-solid form pressed against her taste buds, her saliva mingling with his melt. Slowly, Epiphania packed the panties into Amédée's mouth, burying him under layers of damp cloth as she let out a moan.

Amédée's jaws stretched around the bundle. She closed her lips slowly, savoring the heat and lewd texture, then gave a wet, satisfied gulp.

Epiphania purred, watching the bulge slip down her lover's throat. She traced a finger from Amédée's lips down her neck, guiding Quintus's descent. Amédée's eyes fluttered, savoring the exquisite mass--herself and her partner wrapped together.

She leaned forward, dragging her fingers over the bulge now writhing in Epiphania's belly. Inside, her prey pleasured herself as magic began to melt her down.

"Let's head to my place tonight," Epiphania crooned into Amédée's ear, "digest our meal and lovers... see who wants to reform tomorrow."

Amédée shuddered, gently running her hands over her own body. She looked up into Epiphania's eyes and nodded.

"Oh, yes... let's. Knowing Quint, he'll probably want to be plush on my muff for a week. Front-row seat to you."

Epiphania leaned in and licked Amédée's neck. "Yummy."

"Naughty..." Amédée blushed as Epiphania's saliva dripped down her neck. Epiphania grinned, gripping the bar top as she slowly lifted herself upright.

"Hah... a little help, dear? My knees are all fluttery."

Amédée gently gripped Epiphania's arm as she began to stand, her own legs trembling as a little rivulet ran down her curves.

"Sure thing, love."

Epiphania slipped an arm beneath Amédée's hips, cradling her to her bosom as she straightened her back, hoisting that massive belly--her dinner wriggling softly within.

"Hey Tassi, me, Amé, Quint, and dinner are heading home for the night. Sorry for the mess--I'll help clean up tomorrow."

Tassi just raised a hand and waved the trio off, their "dinner" giving a soft wiggle in reply. Then Tassi popped her head up from the trapdoor and waved again with a wink.

Epiphania picked her way through the bar as it pulsed with pleasure--patrons of all kinds tangled in their own bliss. Some climaxing, some seeking, others drifting in the haze of drink and lust.

The oak doors opened into the cool night air. The doorwoman held one wide for Epiphania, who dipped her head under the frame and stepped out with her bundled lover in tow. Amédée gave a lazy wave from her arms.

"Be seeing ya, Bren."

It wasn't even 9 p. m., and Green Blades Coffee and Wine House was just beginning to simmer as the lovers made their way home.