Eve's Boutique - Ch 52

Unnecessary author's note: The only reason this chapter isn't called, "We Came to Fuck," is because I'm trying to stay scrupulously in the bounds of U.S. fair use for copyright~

Making Connections

The land around Mackenzie’s city was flat.  Pancake flat, for miles in every direction.  Yet there was something about this town that attracted people who wanted to rise up, to aspire to great heights.

There were the tall buildings, of course.  But also, the outsized ambition of the people who chose to call this place home.  Even the suburbs got in on the action.  They had names like Mount Pleasant, and Arlington Heights, and the thing was, all of it was fake.  In truth, those places were just as flat and lowly as everything else that surrounded them.

The hill Mackenzie sat upon, the throne of her ascension, was likewise artificial.  It was man-made, built to allow the children a place to sled-ride in the winter, or to roll down in the warmer months.  It was probably an old landfill.  Whatever its origin, it gave her a perfect place to survey the party.  She could see everything from up here.

The fenced-in area around her was empty for a hundred yards – except for the seven orderly lines that stretched out before her.  The people outside her gates were chaotic, as they swayed and danced to the music her mistress provided.  But once they entered those gates, into the area that Mackenzie had come to think of as her throne room, all became quiet.  In silence and in sevens, the little ones would approach.  Fall to their knees.  And make their offerings.

Graciously, she accepted.

She could feel herself becoming greater, as each group shrank down into their clothes.  Some needed help to leave.  She had priests and priestesses for that, to assist them, clear them away – and make room for the next.

She was by far the most popular, the most celebrated person at this party.  The one they had all come to see.  But there was something so lonely about it.  The grand crush of people all having fun just beyond her walls, and she herself alone – able to see those around her, but unable to join them.

Her mistress was sweating and dancing on stage.  As she performed, she would occasionally glance at Mackenzie.  Checking on her progress, reminding her she was being watched, making sure she didn’t fail this time.

Kayla and Chloe were nearby, their backs resolutely turned, arms around each other.  She wanted to call out to them.  But she didn’t dare – not now.

And there was Abigail.  Bigger than her again, but oh, not for much longer.  And what did the girl think she was doing?  She had fallen to her knees, and was actually bothering to converse with the tinies who pressed against the safety fence.  It was disgraceful, really.

Abigail had noticed them waving from the corner of her eye.  Even from a few hundred feet up she recognized them, and had dropped down to talk.  These were fellow students from her poetry class – people she liked.  Professor Martin’s class often devolved into heated debates about the meaning of a particular passage, and these were some of her favorite opponents.  It was strange they’d never thought to hang out after class – especially since she always got the vibe that at least two of them might be flirting with her.  The short mousy brunette, and her tall blonde friend.

She leaned intimately close to hear them over the music, her face just a dozen feet over their heads.  Poetry kids loved to trade verse at each other, and these were no different.  It was an almost universal love language.  She found an excuse to slip in a little J. Alfred Prufrock, and saw the two tiny girls blush and giggle and lean close together.

These girls were both so cute.  Smaller than her index finger, and practically drooling over her attention.  She felt certain the two of them would do anything she asked, so long as it meant being with her tonight.  The merest suggestion, and they’d let her stick them anywhere she pleased.  The temptation hit, like a shot of absinthe on an empty stomach.

With an effort, she reminded herself that she had a different goal tonight.  There’d be another day to get little ladies into her pants.

Abigail looked up.  Despite the crowd near the stage, it was easy to pick out Eve.  Her unusually pale skin, the green glow of her eyes, the sinewy ease of her movements.  That, and she was currently twenty feet tall, towering above the dancers around her.

Abigail focused her attention on the two girls, and put her own desires out of her mind.  She concentrated instead on whether they were right for each other – then sent her emotion to the witch.

Eve paused for a half beat.  Abigail felt the woman’s answer even before she saw the signal: the witch shook her head twice, and continued to dance.

But the conversation continued to flow, and more people were arriving all the time.  The skinny guy that sat behind her in French Phonetics, and who was the pretty girl with him?  His sister?  And oh my gosh did Abby really think she was pretty?  Abigail assured her she was.

She brought her lips down until they almost touched her.

“Fugitive beauté dont le regard m’a fait soudainement renaître, ne te verrai-je plus que dans l’éternité?”

It was overkill.  The French language was a natural aphrodisiac, after all.  Even Alouette could spell an erection.

She watched their reactions, the way they stirred and shifted like leaves brought together by an errant breeze.  She went with her intuition, and sent a guess to Eve.  The blonde with the skinny guy, his sister and the brunette.  She could use her words to bring them together.  What did her lover think?

The witch rocked her hips with the music, gave her sleeve two quick tugs in the affirmative, and danced on.

It still felt strange for Eve, being around this many people.  The conflicting desires of large groups tended to confuse her, and so she usually preferred the company of two or three at most.  This was different.  There was so little thought in this crowd – but so much emotion.  And within the smallest tolerance, everyone around her was feeling the same thing.  The variance was the difference between a snare drum and a hi-hat.  There were E’s and B’s and C sharp minors, and they all worked together to make the same song.  There were occasional heavy bass hits – emotion from Abby, Chloe, or Kayla.  To most of these, two quick sleeve tugs was the appropriate response.  She found she didn’t even need to be careful setting down her boots, as she danced among a crowd hardly taller than her knees.  She could feel where the music would take them next, and thereby, always knew a safe place to land her feet.

Matchmaking in this crowd was so easy.  Often, all she had to do was move out of the way, and allow two dancers to come in contact with each other when they might otherwise never have met.  Magic was rarely needed, and when it was, a brief touch was plenty.  Letting power flow through her skin as her calf grazed against a woman’s arm.  Or gracefully bending to catch a young man on the verge of falling into the crush, cupping her giant hands angelically around him, infusing him with destiny as she lifted him, before depositing him before the new love of his life.  Then moving on without missing a beat.

There was power in Lilith’s music.  It drove some of them into helpless worship for her sister, as she stalked back and forth across the stage.  Some were responding to Lilith‘s magic in other ways – peeling off, joining the lines to pay tribute to Mackenzie.  But if there was power here, Eve could use it as well.  Lilith was the dam, stealing potential for her own purposes.  All Eve had to do was start tiny little leaks.

She followed the music, winding her way through the crowd, and eventually ended up back where she started.

Dylan and the purple-haired woman were still standing together near the drink station.  The woman had dropped to one knee to maintain eye contact.  Eve smiled as she approached.  It looked like the girl had finished at least one drink already, and was well on her way through her second.

“Oh!  Hi, Eve!”  Dylan gave off a lemon note of guilt as she approached, clearly worried she was about to reprimand him for not following the plan.

“Hi, Dylan.”  She put her hands on her knees, bending double to see him.  “I was hoping you’d be here.  You’re doing a really good job.”

She caught his relief and satisfaction, savored it, before a tiny whiff of jealousy hit from the woman beside him.

The tattooed woman stood slowly.  She’d gained a lot of height since Eve had last seen her – she must’ve been hitting the piña coladas hard.  She was fifteen feet tall at least, and still growing.  Her dress had already ripped to shreds, but if she noticed, she wasn’t letting on. 

The woman gave Eve a suspicious look, then glanced sharply at Dylan.  “Well!  Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Yeah.  Yeah!  Um, Tori, this is my friend Eve.  Eve, Victoria.”

Eve smiled confidently.  In a smooth motion, she lifted Dylan into her arms, and snuggled him between her breasts like a teddy bear.  “Tori.  A pleasure.”

Anger sparked from Victoria like flint on struck steel.  As her eyebrows narrowed, another pulse of growth ripped through her.  Suddenly, Eve found herself the shorter of the two – eye-level with her collarbone.

“Dylan and I have slept together,” Eve explained calmly.  “A few times.”

“You don’t say.”  Victoria took a sip, and grew again.  The last fragments of her dress fluttered dramatically away in the breeze.

“But.”  Eve passed the nervous little man to the growing woman.  “I hope that doesn’t come between us.  Dylan is special to me.  It looks like you feel the same.”

The naked, twenty-five-foot woman looked conflicted.  But then she smiled.  She hugged Dylan to her bare chest, and kissed the top of his head.  “We only just met.  But it’s like I have such a connection with him.”

“I can feel it,” Eve admitted.

“Tori is Abigail’s biggest fan,” Dylan squeaked.  “We originally met through her.”

“Oh?”

The witch glanced down at Dylan, and told him with her eyes to be on guard.

He swallowed, and nodded.

Eve turned, and gestured grandly across the party – to where Mackenzie sat on her throne.  “And what do you think of her, ah, counterpart?”

Victoria looked.  For a horrible moment her face contorted with joy, and every muscle in her body relaxed.  Eve made ready to dart forward and catch Dylan as he began to slip from her grasp.

But then the woman looked away, and shrugged.

“Mackenzie is alright, I guess.  No shade.  But Abigail’s so pretty, and she’s just got this style about her.  Plus she’s witty!  I could listen to her talk for days.”

“Yeah,” Dylan agreed.  “Team Abby all the way.”

The three suddenly found themselves in shadow, as a massive form blocked the light from the projection tower overhead.

“Okay folks,” Kayla boomed.  “This area is at maximum occupancy.  Get on the dance floor or get to a chill-out tent, but either way, stop crowding the bar.”

“Better do as she says,” Eve echoed, growing to once again tower over Victoria.  It was taking more to stay on top – there were some very large people gathered around Elijah’s drink station.  Many of them were downing their piña coladas as fast as they could, and getting right back in line for more.

Lots of cute couples, Kayla thought.  She had to shoo away a few of the more insistent ones.  But even the biggest of them barely reached her shin, and she succeeded in getting them to disperse.  Two twelve-foot-tall girls with their hands around each other’s waists, openly groping each other as they walked toward the dance floor.  A super cut fifteen-foot-tall guy, with a short king riding enthusiastically on his shoulders, grinding against the back of his neck.  There was a woman almost as tall as the purple-haired lady, wrestling in the dirt with her ten-foot boyfriend, both of them sticky and smelling of booze.  She had to pick them up and pass them off to Abigail for hand delivery to the tents.  Fucking was fine, but those two were a safety hazard.

When she returned, Eve was waiting for her.

“It works,” the witch reported.  “They don’t know they’re growing.  And it gives them protection from the Glamour when they aren’t making direct eye contact.  Like all my potions do, apparently.”

Kayla flexed.  “Abby was right.  You’re stronger than you look.”

Far below, Eve blushed.  She found a safe spot to stand, and briefly grew tall enough to kiss Kayla on the mouth.

The muscular giantess suddenly felt dazed.  Eve had loaded that kiss with a payload that wasn’t purely physical.  It was entirely pleasant, but for a moment she had trouble remembering where she was.  She coughed, and cleared her throat.  “You’re um, good at that.  Uh anyways.  Dylan, little buddy?  You alright down there?”

Victoria had snuck around behind Kayla’s calf muscle while she’d been distracted, and was back at Elijah’s table.  She was dragging poor little Dylan along behind him, her hand locked on his forearm.  The woman was haranguing a flustered-looking Elijah, trying to get him to pour her two drinks at once.

Dylan looked at the still-growing girl that held him captive.  He nodded appreciatively at her naked, heavily tattooed back, then grinned up at Kayla.  “Yeah.  I’m good.”

Kayla gave him the universal sign for, ‘dat ass tho,’ and took another lap around the party to make sure things were running smooth.

On the way she took a risk, and tried to catch Lilith’s eye.  To her utter lack of surprise, the witch was staring at her, shooting daggers from the stage.

Because the fucking audacity!  Kayla wanted to diddle around with Abigail, fine, Lilith could forgive an indiscretion or two, and anyway, Abigail’s minutes on this world were numbered.

But her sister?  Out here, for all these people to witness Kayla making a fool of her?  That kiss was obviously pure theater, directed at Lilith and no one else.  She’d honestly thought Kayla was better than that.  And besides, it wasn’t going to work – they weren’t going to get in her head that easy.

Lilith realized she was growing, and made herself stop.  Twenty-five feet was a good center-of-attention height, but she had no idea if the stage was rated for the weight.  She felt like she’d probably find out tonight, but for the time being, there were more constructive uses for her powers.

She channeled her anger into the band behind her and whipped them into a fight song.  Something where she wouldn’t have to think much about the lyrics, where she could just scream her rage into the crowd.

A mosh pit formed in front of the stage.  It wasn’t a friendly one.  A few thousand people, snarling and spitting and pummeling each other to the music, and all of it in devotion to her.  The whole crowd behind them was picking up the energy as it bloomed outward.  Even the people waiting in line for an audience with Mackenzie were falling victim.

Lilith smirked as she surveyed the destruction she’d caused.  Kayla had stopped in her tracks to break up multiple fights that had started around her ankles.  Abigail was struggling too, her face strained, trying her best to hold it together as anger spread through the crowd.  And Chloe?  Lilith almost felt sorry for her.  She’d frozen up completely, was just standing there like a rabbit in the rain.

But then she saw something so terrible that she almost lost the beat.  Eve.  Pushing her way into the mosh pit.  And nowhere near big enough to be safe in there, five-seven at most, and there were people ten, fifteen, twenty feet tall throwing hands.  What the fuck was she doing, she was gonna get destroyed!

But Eve… was laughing.

Lilith watched her take a hard blow.  Another.  Go down, be hauled back to her feet by four people beside her.  Eve grinned, shoved the girl next to her in the chest, got shoved back.  And that hysterical laughter of hers was spreading, replicating like a virus through the pit.

Kayla was laughing too, and the people who’d been fighting each other just a moment ago were laughing along.  The giant Domme punched one of them playfully with a fist bigger than his entire body, then picked him up off the dirt along with several of his friends, and carried them off toward the bar.

And fuck everything, Abigail was handling herself too.  She’d just leaned in a little closer to that fawning group of hers, and wrapped her arms protectively around them.  Too many people were breaking off from her in twos or threes, and heading toward those damnable tents.  Once they were back there, Lilith couldn’t touch them.

And Chloe.  The hell was she doing?  Heading toward the gates of Mackenzie’s sanctum, and Lilith was stuck here on stage.  The spotlight on her, limitless power at her disposal, and unable to stop one little girl from fucking up a queue.

“Um, hey folks,” Chloe said, trying not to let on how awkward she felt, speaking in front of this many people.  “Long line to see the big lady, huh?”

The crowd gave some scattered sounds of agreement.  Most kept their eyes locked on Mackenzie.

“I thought, um.  That I’d offer you a little entertainment, while you waited.  What do you think of that?”

A thousand people looked up at her expectantly.

Chloe swallowed, suddenly unable to take all that attention.  Her nerve on the verge of breaking, she spun around.

“Abby!  Abigail, could you come here a second?”

Her friend was there at once.  Confident, sure, and towering over Chloe.  The moment she drew close, Chloe felt herself calming down.  She was safe, beside her best friend.

“What’s goin’ on, Klo-Klo?”

Chloe motioned her down.

“I’ve got an idea,” she whispered.  “But I can’t make myself pull it off.  Can you help?”

“What’s your idea?” Abigail whispered back.

She told her.

Abigail laughed at the top of her lungs.

Chloe’s cheeks were suddenly on fire.  “If you think it’s stupid….”

“No.  It’s perfect!”

Abigail turned to the crowd, and put on a hype man voice.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and all the beautiful points between.  You’re all looking lovely down there tonight, every last one of you.  And Mackenzie – she’s lovely too, we all know that.  But for me?  I’ve always had a favorite giantess.  One who towers above all the rest in my heart.  And you know who that is?  That’s my big lady Chloe, right here.  Can we show a little love for Chloe?”

The crowd below cheered politely, as Abigail put her arm around Chloe’s shoulder.  Chloe waved down at them.  It was a cool night, but she suddenly felt very, very warm.

“Now we all want to make this a night to remember,” Abigail said.  “And Chloe here wants to do something extra-special, something none of us are ever gonna forget.  You’ve all heard of a bouncy castle, right?”

Abigail’s hand slipped down Chloe’s back, and took hold of the hem of her sweater.

“How about a Chloe Castle?”

In a smooth motion, her friend pulled the garment up over Chloe’s head.  She held it aloft as the crowd went wild, and tossed it to the throng.  It shrank into insignificance as it fell, and disappeared from view.

Her larger friend was slipping around behind her, with one hand resting firm against Chloe’s sternum.  The other hand, sensually sliding between her shoulder blades, until Abigail’s fingertip caught on the hooks of her massive bra.

“Okay?” Abigail asked quietly.

Chloe’s heart did a backflip.  She nodded.

There was a snap.  And her bra fluttered to the ground.

Chloe’s breasts had been a burden most of her life – bigger than her head, and slightly pyramid-shaped, which made it nearly impossible to shop for a bra.  They were too heavy, hurt her back, attracted way too much attention.  But the strength she’d received from Eve had helped with all that, and besides, those who’d been lucky enough to catch a glimpse always told her they were beautiful.  They were an alluring ochre a shade lighter than her skin, with deep maroon nipples the color of the sky an hour after sunset.  They were a part of her, and in a way she loved them, but still: Chloe had a complicated relationship with her boobs.

Now, fifty-thousand people were screaming in approval at the sight of them.

Well.  Why not?  She imagined they had only become proportionately more beautiful, now that they were each big enough to overflow your average swimming pool.  And more importantly – she’d chosen to do this.  It felt good to finally have control of how people saw her.  Really good, in fact.

Abigail was easing her to the ground.  Her friend gave her a reassuring kiss in that sensitive spot just behind her ear, and addressed the crowd.

“Now remember, everyone stay safe.  No shoes, no jewelry, no more than twenty people at a time.  Five-minute limit.”

“Ten-dollar minimum donation to the charity of your choice,” Chloe added quickly.  “I recommend Doctors Without Borders, the ACLU….”  She lay herself down in the grass.  “Hey, Abby – we’re sure this is a good idea?”

“Eve’s dance,” Abigail said.  “Has been nothing but sleeve-tugging for the last three minutes.  This was an awesome idea.  You ready?”

Chloe got comfortable.  She squeezed her chest into the optimal shape with her muscular forearms, used her hands to make a safe place for the little ones to climb up, and nodded.

As Abigail broke open the safety gate, the projection screens immediately switched to disclaimers, highlighting the definition of force majeure.  The crowd stampeded into the giantess area to join them.