Playing with My Little Man as a Giantess (Part 1)

Oh! There he is, My little man walking down the sidewalk like he has someplace to be. Acting like one out of the millions of human ants that scurry through the concrete pillars I call home.

I’ve been watching him for a while now from the background. Ever since he moved to this neighborhood a few months ago. He clings to his tiny routine like a lifeline. Out the door at 8:05am every weekday morning to go to work with even more puny ants that stay in one place, Down the block to the bus stop, Sitting in the same spot everytime he goes there, scrolling on his little phone screen, lost in his own little world while he waits.

Until I walk by.

On days like this, I veer down that same street for no other reason than to see him. To loom over him. To see his reaction to my giant presence overshadowing him and the stop he sits at so frequently. And sometimes, like today, I stop right in front of him, just to have my own little fun. Just to mess with his morning.

He looks up from his phone screen, confused by the sudden shadow. He squints up at me like he’s trying to see where the shadow is coming from, his eyes widening as they travel up my legs, up my torso, my arms, my face. He’s almost paralyzed by the sheer impossibility of my size. I can see his brain struggling to process that the skyscraper before him is a real, living woman and not just a statue that moved when he wasn’t looking.

“Good morning, Nathan,” I purr, my voice rumbling like thunder the moment my lips opened. My tone is soft when i speak to him. I could shatter his eardrums if I wanted, but that’ isn’t what i’m here to do. now is it. “How are you doing down there?”

He stammers his words, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. “I-I’m f-fine,” he finally manages to choke out.

“Good,” I smile. “I’m always happy to hear that.”

I let my gaze travel down his body, drinking in every detail of this tiny man sitting before me. His tiny hands. His tiny shoes. The little speck of a man that he is, barely even reaching up to my ankle.

I lean down just a bit, trying to get a better look at him. The ground shakes with my movements and I can see his knees buckle in fear.

He is so small. So fragile. Like a little doll. I could crush him under my toe if I wanted.

But I have so much more fun in mind for this little man today.

I straighten back up to my full height, towering over little Nathan. He scrambles to his feet, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to get away from me. I let him run a few paces, then slowly, deliberately, I lift my foot up. I plant it in front of him, blocking his escape from the bus stop. The ground shakes with the impact. He freezes, staring up at me in wide eyed terror and maybe a little bit of awe.

“Where do you think you’re going, little man?” I coo. Then I tauntingly let the tip of my stiletto caress his chest. He staggers out of the bus stop seat he was in sideways while looking up at me, bumping into my other foot. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

When i’m done having him scramble around like a little mouse trying to run away, I scoop Nathan up in my hand, plucking him right off the sidewalk, both thumb and index fingers holding his sides. He yelps and flails, his tiny hands clawing at my skin as he tries to get me to let go but to no avail. my grip is easy, secure. He’s no heavier than a small paperweight.

I bring him up to my face once he stops struggling, smiling as he trembles between my fingers. “It’s time for some fun, little man,” I whisper. “Just you and me.”