Violent shrunken women board
Story: Betrothed to the Titan
Sunday, 18-Oct-98 22:42:12 writes:

    After considering the overwhelming number of responses to my previous story (Bah! Philistines, one and all!), I decided to go ahead and post this one anyway.

    Disclaimersville, man!

    If you are a miserable little rugrat reading naughty message boards on daddyís account, scram. Likewise, if you were emotionally scarred by the original King Kong movie (directorís cut), or think Rogue should be given a good ducking as a satan-mongering agent of Evil, give this story a pass.
    Two more warnings on content: for one, its set in a cheezy fantasy setting, full of knights and castles and princesses in peril. Secondly, the main charachters are violently psychopathic sadists. Fun! (Be patient. They donít fall in love Ďtill the end.)

    Betrothed to the Titan

    She hated her little village, and everyone in it. There were only two hundred or so residents, so she had come to know, and despise, them all for crude and boorish peons. How she wished for a dragon or gorgon or something to come and destroy them all! She was a princess by birth, and should be at court, rather than sent off to nowhere to prevent her from forming any designs on the throne held by her sister.
    Suddenly the warning bell rang. The bell was only used to warn of an impending disaster: fire, invasion, or...a dragon or gorgon. Or something.
    "Giant! Giant!", rang out the townís crier. Or something, indeed. She couldnít see the giant, the houses on her street being small manors three stories tall, but she could hear a horrific racket. Wood crushed and splintered, masonry shatered and broken. And the screams.
    Most of the screams were merely those of terrified denizens fleeing for their lives. But every so often, one would rise above the din, a wail of absolute pain cut off abruptly. Ooops, she thought, there goes Tom the Butcher, and laughed with wicked glee at the mental image of all that fat smeared across the street. All around her, people were rushing into their homes and bolting the door. She stayed out on her lawn to watch the fun. Every now and again, she heard an inhumanly loud laugh, filled with arrogant spite. Nice voice for a monster, she thought to herself, it wass very deep and melodic.
    Around the corner her guardian and the soldiers asigned to him came running. "Here! We stop and make our stand here!", Sir Preston shouted at his troops. Obediently they stopped and formed ranks, a half dozen pikemen spread out in front of three swordsmen. "Damn and blast! The big bastard got all of our archers...I say! Princess Alia! Get in the house and bar the door this instant!"
    Just then, the giantís head and shoulders became visible over the row of houses. Princess Alia gasped at the visage; she was expecting a hairy lout in a bearskin. This giant was anything but!
    The first odd thing, apart from his huge size, she noticed was his hair, it was currently tied into a ponytail. It was also a very deep shade of violet and it was so lustrous it nearly glowed with its own luminance. His eyebrows, eyelashes and even his eyes were the same shade of intense violet. The next thing she noticed was that he was remarkably handsome, noble and graceful, yet strong. His eyes were coldly intelligent and his full lips were pursed in a half smile of arrogant and malicious delight. She began to feel her nipples harden, and a warm tightness spread from the pit of her stomach to between her legs.
    Every now and again, he would stoop out of sight, usually accompanied by the sound of tiny villagers squalling, but it was clear he was coming inexorably closer. He was right behind the row of houses in front of her, and the Royal Bodyguard quailed with fright, but stood their ground. The roof of the house in front of him didnít even reach his crotch, and he walked through the structure, demolishing it completely.
    The Guard backed away from the flying rubble of the house, and she got a full glimpse of the terror.
    He was very long of leg, an athletic build rather than muscle-bound, yet with powerful arms, broad shoulders and massive chest. He wore a leather doublet of midnight hue that had a high choke collar securely fastened around his neck. About his waist was a broad belt with a silver buckle and a purple velvet sack tied to it in which a half dozen victims thrashed. His arms up to the shoulders were encased in skin-tight black leather gloves with silver studs about the knuckles. She noted with delight the still fresh blood dripping from the fingers.
    His tight leggings were of glove-leather, and left little to the imagination. From the size of that bulge, he would be a giant were he of normal stature, she thought. He wore a pair of black leather calvary-manís boots that would have reached said bulge had they not been cuffed mid-thigh. The boots were form-fitting, with a tall, thick heel and squared-off toe. She fairly swooned with arousal as she noticed the blood spattered almost to the middle of his calf in splashes and droplets.
    She would have been attracted to him had he been a normal man, a tall and stately fellow of high blood and unusual features. But as a powerful and merciless titan, she needed to poses him with a passion she had never felt before.
    Onetwothreefour! Hard and fast he stomped the pikemen, his legs a blur. He was far quicker than a normal human, despite his gargantuan size, and blood and mashed gore splattered across the street and houses. Two of the pikemen were not men at all, but spear maidens, and these remained uncrushed, as well as the swordsmen and Sir Preston.
    The giant swooped down, and snatched up the spear maidens, their weapons clattering to the ground. He had one in each hand, and raised one, a blond, for closer inspection. He laughed as she beat uselessly at his fist, and raised the other, a brunette. He smirked demeaningly as she struggled to free herself, arms pinned to her sides, from his grasp. Meanwhile the three swordsmen were hacking away at his ankles, their mightiest blows not even scratching the bootleather.
    With a little smile of arrogant cruelty, he tightened his grip on each of his captives. Their strugglings became positively frantic! He squeezed them relentlessly, and the women began to scream in pain and terror. Princess Alia thrilled to the sound of their agony, and almost cheered when she heard the first bone snap. The woman with her arms pinned redoubled her thrashing and screeched with pain. The other tried vainly to pry open the massive leather-clad fingers as they began to clamp down. Her screams redoubled, and frantically attempted to push herself out of the inexorably tightening fist of her tormentor, her screams abruptly stopping as she began to vomit blood. The brunetteís screeches turned to loud gurgling shrieks as blood began to drool from her mouth and nose, and trickled from between the cruel giantís fingers.
    Alia could hear the wet, hollow snaps and crunches as the two women were slowly crushed in each of his powerful hands. The blond, her face a mask of pain and terror, gave a last, final heave to free herself before her entrails shot out of her mouth. With a pulping noise, the brunette spasmed into gobbets of gore, legs flailing wildly before they dropped away, disembodied, from the bottom of his fist, followed by her head, and a glob of red flesh and rent fabric and leather that was once an attractive body. The lifeless blonde followed her to the ground, a mangled mash from the waist down, her own intestines spread out in a bloody streamer from her open mouth, her eyes staring sightlessly.
    Idly the giant lowered a boot on one of the diligent swordsmen and pressed him to the cobblestones under the ball of his foot. The titan used his deft tongue to lick the gore from his fingers as he leaned his weight onto the captive swordsman. The fencing master didnít even have time to shout as, with a swing of the hips, the giant mashed him. His blood spattered the hem of Aliaís dress as she cheered wildly, admiring the way the muscles writhed under the boot leather while the giant ground his victim into paste.
    He reared back his left foot, and kicked the next swordsman clear across town, his broken body windmilling through the air. The last soldier tried to flee, but was too late! The giant lowered his heel onto the fleeing manís back, pinning him to the ground. In an impressive display of dexterity, the violet-haired gargantuan pressed down inch by inch, listening carefully as the little man pleaded and begged for his life. Soon the last swordsman could plead no more as the breath was pressed from him. He flailed madly as the boot-heel flattened him inexorably, eyes bulged with pressure and fright. The tiny manís face turned beet red as the weight of the giantís boot slowly destroyed him, until his eyes popped out of his head in a shower of blood as a wave of gore exploded from underheel with a delightfull crunch.
    The giant left him like this, twitching and slowly dying in agony, as he turned his attention to Sir Preston. He kicked the proud man onto his back, and covered him from the shoulders down under the toe of his boot. Hands on his hips, he looked down haugtily at his captive.
    "Sir Preston. You will declare this day mine, and bequeath custodianship of the princess to me.", he said in a cold, clear voice.
    "What? Never! Iíd rather...unnnh!", the knightís spluttering came to an end as the giant pressed slowly down with the toe of his boot. The knightís face purpled as he struggled for breath, the giant waiting almost to the point of Prestonís unconciousness to ease the pressure.
    "The day is yours, Sir Giant, and I bequeath custodianship of the Princess to you. And the town is yours!", Sir Preston said hurredly, all notions of valor pushed aside by a will to survive.
    "I know.", said the giant, "And, by the way, its Lord Giant to you."
    "Yes, my", Sir Preston began to scream in a most undignified manner as the giant slowly squashed him by degrees. His screaming cut off abruptly as the titan shattered every bone in the knightís body and smeared his flesh into a bloody swath across the cobblestones.
    "So, my dear, are we ready to share your guardianís fate?", asked the giant as he raised his boot over her head, and hovered it inches from her upturned face. The looming shadow and overwhelming presence of the giant made her mind reel with awe. She reached up on tip-toe, and licked the gore-drenched sole, savoring the blood of the fallen knight.
    "My, Princess, you are a twisted one, arenít you?", said the giant with a chuckle as he carefully knelt on one knee before her. She eagerly allowed him to grasp her in the warm leather of his glove, and he lifted her with thrilling swiftness to just before his face.
    "You know who I am.", she said in a voice awed, but still haughty.
    "Of course. I donít crush villages at random, you know. There must be a prize, or the battleís not worth the bother." he said in his voice, loud as a calvary charge, but musical as a minstrelís ballad.
    His massive eyes gave her a once over. She was a beautiful creature, with refined features and aquiline nose, her hair a raven black and soft as flax, her alabaster skin as smooth and perfect as imperial silk. She posessed a tall and regal stature, and a fondness for horsemanship and fencing kept her trim and toned. This showed through her tight cotton summer dress, as did her perfect breasts. They were large, firm, and of a spherical shape, long nipples and a smallish areola poked through her garment
    He then took the fabric of her dress delicately between thumb and forefinger and tore it from her body. She stretched out nude in the palm of his hand, luxuriating to the feel of soft glove leather on bare skin, and basked in the presence of overwhelming might. His left forefinger began to feel and probe her body, the touch was delicate and sensuous, but as inexorable as the tide. Down her left side traveled the tip of his finger, across the soles of her feet, and up the inside of her long left leg, to linger a while at the apex of the crotch, the princess thrusting herself against his finger-tip before it continued down the inside of her right leg, across the sole of her right foot, and up her right side. The sensation was electric. He gently flipped her over, and brushed her bottom with his huge fingers, and traced a line up her spine with a fingertip.
    She had a scare as his hand closed into a fist and began to squeeze. If she had to die, this was the way she wanted to go, but the grip eased as the enormous man chuckled at her courage. The giant jockeyed her in his grip where her shoulders and back were supported by his index finger while the other fingers supported her bottom and legs, as his thumb idly fondled her full, round breasts.
    "Please, Lord Giant, lend your might to me, and I will be yours forever!", she cried as his gentle ministrations began to build her to a climax.
    "Such a proposal may appeal to me, princess. But to gain my power, you must be willing to become my bride. Then my power becomes our power, and is trebled. Those are the rules. So choose carefully!", he says as he regards her closely with violet eyes flecked with crimson.
    "Oh, yes! Anything! We shall turn the court into a charnel-house, and conquer the land for as far as you can stride!", Princess Alia cries with ecstacy. She begins to moan as she strokes the powerful thumb gently kneading, caressing, and massaging her breasts with unfathomable delicacy and an expert loverís skill. Her hands ran up and down the gargantuan digit, thrilling to the feel of leather and the sense of power behind it.
    "Perhaps. I will reserve my judgement until after dinner.", said the giant with a sly smile. With that, he places her gently in a second pouch made of red velvet, and ties it to his belt. She shouts with indignation, having been robbed so close to orgiastic release!

    Next: First date! (Dinner and a show, natch.)

    More nookie next time, I promise!

Theophilous Bolt