After examining him for an uncomfortably long time, the teenage giantess put Eric on a dresser in her bedroom. “What happened to you?” she asked.
Eric paused, still shaken by the specter of such a large person looking at him and talking. At least she hadn’t asked why a tiny man was in her bedroom—at least, not yet. He wasn’t sure where to start. “Well, it’s kind of a long st—“
“Hang on, I can’t hear you,” boomed her giant voice, and she moved even closer, until her face was, at a normal person’s scale, only an inch or two from the quarter-inch-tall man standing on her dresser. Eric had to force himself not to run away in some primate-level flight mechanism.
The one advantage of having such an intimidating giant dominating his field of view was that he no longer felt any temptation to try to massage his story to avoid the awkward parts. He just told her everything: the size changing gone awry at the Transformation Resort, his confusion and fear about his (to-him) giant wife, and his escape with her and her family as they left the resort.
“Wow, that’s so cool,” she said, after he’d finished. “You know, I was really hoping to have an exciting trip to the Transformation Resort myself. But all my parents let us do was change our ages. Supposedly to give us an appreciation for everything they do. To me it was just boring.
“They won’t even let me have a boyfriend,” she continued, as she stood up to her full height, towering over Eric like a skyscraper. “They’re worried about me. But you’re not much of a threat, are you?”
She didn’t bother to listen for a response. She pulled off her top and then, smiling down at Eric unbuckled her blouse. She then peeled off her yoga pants, revealing cotton pink panties underneath. She leaned down again and picked Eric up, and then carried him over to her bed. She lay down and then placed Eric on her shin.
She then bit her lower lip. “Why don’t you … do some exploring,” she said, more as an instruction than a request.
Eric took a deep breath. This girl was very pretty, and he certainly didn’t have anything better to do. Plus, staying on her good side seemed rather important at this point. He began walking up her freshly shaven legs, waiting to see how she would react. Overall, though, she didn’t react at all: she just lay back on her pillow, watching him walk past her knee, then across her thigh.
Soon enough he reached the border of her tight pink panties, and paused, trying to decide what to do. He suspected he knew already. Hell, he could smell her. He knew what she wanted. But what did he want?