Doubled Stack Offense
by Plato Voltaire
Copyright 2012



1
The doctor's office was well furnished, right down to bookshelves filled with tomes of medical knowledge. As for the desk it looked like it belonged in a museum exhibit. Only a keyboard and a thin-screen monitor gave proof that the owner hailed from the twenty-first century instead of the nineteenth. Behind the desk was a short, partially bald man with a well trimmed sliver-grey mustache and beard. Dr. Arnim Wisehaupt pushed away the keyboard he was working on and adjusted his thin-framed glasses, looking at the two couples sitting across from him. The men where taller than Arnim by a good six inches and looked well exercised and fit. No doubt they were motivated to stay that way from their wives. Whereas the men were tall the women took those inches and applied them to their expansive fronts. Both were 5'1" and required specially crafted bras to handle their 70" busts. In his research for the case brought before him he knew the women had an unexplained and certainly unnatural growth spurt at the age of twenty, gaining their dominating assets in less than a month. Twice the women had breast reduction surgery, but each time the breasts grew back with alacrity. As compensation they weren't as heavy as one expected, and their back musculature was particularly strong and resilient. As for the bras they were needed to keep the mighty orbs from moving too much, and thus make them less distracting for ogling males and reproachful females. The couples weren't seeing the doctor about mammical concerns, however.
     "I believe we can treat them," said Arnim, his German accent still noticeable after thirty years being in America. "Their bodies will be much more responsive at their age."
     "That's a relief," said Jocelyn Kearns, squeezing the hand of her husband gently. "How soon will we notice results?"
     "After the first set of injections, about two inches after two months, with quarterly injections for up to three years afterwards."
     "That long?" the woman named Ramona Baines  asked. "It's not that I want my Belinda to grow like a weed, but..."
     "Oh, I think I understand," said the doctor. The girls, Sydney and Belinda, were six inches shorter than their 10-year-old classmates. Because of their short stature, and red hair, freckles and glasses, they were often picked on at school, even by other girls. The parents told their girls not to get into fights, but privately they taught them to finish what other kids started. Soon it became clear that it wasn't wise to attempt to steal lunch cards or money from the two pint-sized ginger hellions. "But once they realize that they'll be as big as their peers they'll be as quick with words as well as their fists." He opened a drawer and drew out some paperwork. "Now, I need your authorization to conduct tests that will allow me to customize their growth hormone injections."
     Without hesitation the men started to go for the paper only to be stopped by the wives. Being lawyers, they knew that it payed to read the small print. Only after they were satisfied did they let their understandably anxious hubbies sign first. Upon providing their signatures the couples exchange handshakes with Wisehaupt and left. Also leaving the office Wisehaupt glanced over the papers as he went to the data entry office. His right eyebrow raised as the read the maiden names of the women: Wilcox and Parlor. An acquaintance of his would find that bit of information interesting, especially for the long-term scheme he had in mind. If it payed off, Armin could expect a nice, big bonus for his retirement fund.




It was a year later, and the Kearns and Baines families held a celebration at a family-centric steakhouse. They sat at a large corner booth with the privacy curtain drawn so that they wouldn't be subjected to staring eyes locking onto Jocelyn and Ramona's pronounced bustlines. The celebration was for Sydney and Belinda's growth of six inches each in the past year, and were now only three inches shorter than average for their age. Both girls were given steaks too large to eat in one sitting, the fathers having overruled their wives on this occasion on that any leftovers would be eaten the next day. "You know they'll have to exercise that much more to burn off those calories," said Jocelyn, shoving an overladen spoonful of mashed potatoes into her hubby's maw.
      "We'll be playing hoops in the morning inbetween chores," said Jacob, Belinda's father. "They have the makings of state high school champions with the way they play."
      "We won't stop after high school," Sydney said after wolfing down a chunk of well-done porterhouse steak. "Me and Belinda will be national basketball stars and make millions of dollars."
      Finished wiping his chin Frank, the father of the most precocious Sydney, had to comment. "A few decades ago such a thing wasn't possible, Syd. With the doping scandal in the mens basketball leagues it will now be up to the ladies to shine on primetime TV."
      Belinda removed her glasses to wipe away a bit of gravy that landed on the left lens. "Wouldn't these growth drugs disqualify use from playing professionally?"
      "Not at all, honey," said Ramona, wrapping an arm around Belinda's shoulder and pulling the girl to her for a brief bosom-hug. "Since it's a treatment for a preexisting condition under a doctor's supervision you can play to your heart's content."
       "You did your research," crowed Jacob. "For a full week last year she read up on doping cases and the use of growth hormones to enhance athletic performance."
      "Our pair of gingersnaps play ball better than boys twice their height," Frank sighed, messing up Belinda's tomboy hairstyle in fatherly affection, "and beat up boys three times their weight." Not only where the girls quick on their feet and fists but were bright and mature for their age. They were frequent users of public libraries, bringing their parents along on Sunday afternoons after church to do research on their favorite sport as well as schoolwork. One thing was sure: if they didn't become pro basketball stars then becoming lawyers like their mothers would come in a very close second.
      Jocelyn admonished the prideful men with a courtroom theatrical finger. "Oh, you men. Our girls are coming to that age where boys will be taking an interest in them. You have to admit, they are turning into a pair of heartbreakers right before our eyes. Why, most of their freckles are gone."
      "Boys are nothing but trouble," Belinda proclaimed like a warrior princess. "A pro athlete has no time for dates."
      Sydney nodded and joined her friend in her expression of certainty. "We'll be too busy with school work and earning scholarships."
      Jocelyn winked at Ramona. "I don't know, girls. When you hit 14 your going to get some health upstairs. You'll won't get any studying done when you have a harem of boys following you around."
      "That's so true," Ramona said in a conspiratorial tone."And, if you're lucky you'll be as big as us if not more so when you turn 20."
      Both of the little green-eyed red heads folded their arms in defiance. "We won't be able to play basketball if that happens," pouted Sydney.
      Belinda nodded. "Plus we'd be crushing the wind our boyfriends like you do to dad every time he comes home from work, Mom. I'd rather be a giant princess than a balloon princess."
      Jocelyn smiled. "I'd be happy if my baby is a little bit of both." She drew in Sydney for a bosomy hug, making the blushing girl grateful that the rest of the restaurant crowd wasn't seeing it.
      Jacob patted Belinda on the head. "You get the best grades, little lady. Just remember to send season tickets back to the family when you make it big."
      "I'll be more than big. I'll be gigantic."


2
Five years and 16 inches later the "Ginger Giants" of  the Memphis Westwood High School's girls basketball team, the Longhorns, where heading to victory at the state championships at Nashville. The score was 74 to 70 with 3 minutes to go. A palpable sense of expectation came from the Longhorn fans, perhaps none more so than Sydney and Belinda's parents. Being so exuberant they would rapidly stand up and applauded when the girls scored hoops. Only after the fifth instance did Jocelyn and Ramona realize their busts were hitting the back of the heads of the men sitting in front of them. However no complaint came from them, leading the pneumatic lawyers to believe that they enjoyed the sensation of Longhorn sweatshirts filled with 70' busts bumping their heads. Thereafter they rose deliberately and with a firm command of their inflated assets. Apparently the men only sat there just for that reason for a little later they left and never came back.
     Already famous in their own right as successful defense lawyers Jocelyn and Ramona knew the first thing (and for many men, the only thing) the public commented on where their breasts. Even at this championship the cameras and reporters focused on them as much as their daughters. No doubt shots of them with their busts banging the back of the men's heads were already on the nets. It was something they learned to expect over the last 17 years. While they reigned in their exuberance the mothers didn't know that some others were only now expressing theirs. In the upper bleachers was Dr. Arnim Wisehaupt and his business acquaintance. Not only did they have a good view of the court but they witnessed Jocelyn and Ramona's pneumatic action earlier. They talked inbetween roaring cheers. "Now that's the specialty I've should've gone into," lamented Arnim. "Breast expansion based on gene therapy and growth hormones. A success would mean women carrying breasts as big as those and have a minimum of discomfort."
     The acquaintance nodded, his eyes still fixed on the tablet he carried with him. He was watching replays of the court action, with an occasional close-up peeks of Mrs. Kearns and Baines. "You're doing a exemplary job already, Arnim. Making girls taller is easy, but making breasts grow with the desirable characteristics as well as adjusting the body to support them is much harder. How are the other girls with the treatment doing?"
     "Wonderful," beamed Arnim. "Along with the other doctors you mentioned there will be enough tall girls active in basketball for your needs."
     "Good, good. Just how tall are Sydney and Belinda?"
     "Both are 5'10". It's something of a misnomer to call them giants. They haven't grown an inch in over 18 months, and there's no way they'll agree to have another treatment or two. No doubt the parents were tired buying new clothes every few months."
     A hum of agreement came from the acquaintance. "Yes, it's a pity they couldn't have been at least 6 feet even. Plus I wonder if the treatments interfered with their breast development." Indeed both Sydney and Belinda were as flat chested as pancakes. Without fail any girl with a Wilcox or Parlor heritage started breast development with a vengeance at age 14. By the time they reached 15 the development stopped, invariably ending up with endowments that would make swimsuit tops beg for the release of death.
      "That's something I can research... provided that I have the funds," Arnim said as a matter of fact.
     "Look at your private account tomorrow morning," said the man as he stood up, about to go down the steps. "You'll have the money you'll need as well as the support of the other doctors in the project."
     "Oh, Thank you. Since you've been so generous in the past, and you're satisfied with what you've seen, can you tell me your name?"
      "Certainly. Call me Clifford. Clifford Biggen."


The game ended in victory for the Longhorns over their Knoxville Central High School Lady Bobcat opponents. The auditorium was still quite loud with the sound of celebrating Longhorn fans as the Ginger Giants were interviewed out on the court. They each scored in the last 20 seconds, securing the final score of 78 to 76. The coach finally shooed the reporters away so that the girls could get to the locker room to shower and change, but more importantly to meet with their families waiting for them in the lounge. At the entrance of the tunnel was a volunteer handing out flavored water to the Longhorn girls. He seemed to know which flavored drink to hand out without asking. For Sydney and Belinda it was watermelon and banana respectively. Getting the drink, Sydney was struck by the appearance of the volunteer. She got the feeling that it was an alien's attempt to appear human, in this case a Longhorn-boosting grandfather from what one would call 'the old country.' With a face that looked weathered from the elements he stood 4'8" and had a silver-grey beatnik beard. With thick, old-fashion glasses he looked real weird. Though he wore Longhorn sweat pants and shirt the brown leather jacket was as old and worn as his face. Over the right jacket pocket was a patch that said Rebel. Sydney was sure she would've remembered such a person, but she didn't recall seeing him at previous Longhorn games. The thought passed as quickly as it arrived. She accepted the drink and went down the tunnel. Behind her the old man grinned. If she wasn't already above the clouds before she will be now, he chuckled to himself.




It was now Senior Prom, 2028. The girls were getting ready, and like all ladies they made their beaus wait downstairs for some things can't be rushed. At the Baines household the reason was undergarments. Still spectacularly flat chested Belinda wore what can be charitably called a bra, though it was more of a high stylized  tube top, complete with flower patterns and textured surfaces. That, however, wasn't the issue. Ramona looked reproachfully up at her 6'5" tall daughter. "Belle, you can't leave the house until you change."
      Her hair a dark, rich red and eyes green as emeralds Belinda looked at the culprits that caused this parental confrontation. Carrol and Katlyn, her twin six-year-old sisters, were peeking from behind their mother's back and bust, wondering if they should've kept their mouths shut in this instance. She teased the hem of her dress, a habit when confronted by an uncomfortable truth. "Mom, it's not like anyone can see it, and only a pervert will try to see it."
      "As long as you're living under this roof you'll dress appropriately, Missy. A thong is something you find on a Brazilian beach."
      "Mom, I did my research, and I'm lucky to have such a beautiful face for being so tall. The only thing that'll attract a boy's eye are my legs, face, and butt."
      Ramona raised her left eyebrow. "And for having a relatively small bottom you decided to remove one layer that separates your tush from Leon's hand. And Leon has big hands, little lady. So you made up for not having a giganto-butt by wearing something that won't interfere when he reaches up and gloms onto your firm, muscular meat seat."
      "You know better, Mom. Leon isn't that short." We won't be having this conversation if those seven inches of height had gone to my chest instead, Belinda muttered to herself. Right after winning the championship back in '26 both Belinda and Sydney grew seven inches in as many months. They also gained a certain level of sexual appeal, despite being so lacking in breasts. Leon has been Belinda's boyfriend for two years, a remarkable achievement in the time of one's life where strong drives and teenage love dramas reigned.
      "Well, I can tell you that your father tries to reach my behind whenever he embraces me, by always settles with a side boob grab at the end." Ramona loved the exasperated look on girl's face. Then she opened the small box she had in her hand and pulled out a brand new satin red panty, giving her Belle a wink. "Here. This will give you more coverage for your rump and still give something for Leon's hands to experience past the fabric of the dress. Now ditch that thong and slap this on."
      "Oh, thank you, Mom." Even though Belinda was delighted she held the small swath of fabric like it was a dead rat. "Will it fit?"
      "Guaranteed to fit or your money back, Belle. One's pride is outside the warranty of the product."


The Prom was underway for only ten minutes when Sydney Kearns and her boyfriend Randolph arrived, being chaperoned by Sydney's father Frank. There they found Belinda and Leon at the coat check with Jacob, Belinda's father, hovering behind them. Both boys looked good in their rented tuxedos, though they felt uncomfortable from wearing such ritualistic clothing. The girls, though, were stunning. Both had matching blue and silver sleeveless dresses that stopped just above the knees. Their faces would make even the mythical Helen of Troy envious, and one would even deny they even had freckles a mere 8 years earlier even with photos to prove otherwise. In Sydney's crimson hair was a hand-craft 'chibi' image of a character called Yoko while Belinda had similar one, but of a character called Kei. Everyone had to get a look as they entered the gym. The stars of the girls basketball team had lead the school to victory in the '26 and '27 championships and promised to do the same in '28. On the dance floor the boys really had to hustle to stay in step with their belles and their really long and sexy legs. In Randolph and Leon's opinion the DJ had a knack of picking just the right dancing songs that encouraged such movement.
      Halfway into the Prom the lighting went partially up. The DJ broke in, and the song playing low in the background was one the students haven't heard before - Basketball Jones. "Okay, boys and girls," said the short, sunglass-wearing man, "it's that part of the program where the Ginger Giants will display their athletic prowess by sinking a shot from the middle of .... No, that's been done before! This time it'll be from the far end of the court!" The students whistled and yelled loudly as the blushing red headed girls went to the spot just under the northside basket. Both were handed basketballs by their chaperoning fathers. "Now, I have it on good authority that if both our Ginger Giants make their shots then the school will have a half-day recess on the Friday just before the Championship game." The DJ waited while the students hooted and hollered their approval. "No pressure, girls. You can do this in your sleep."
      "No pressure, sure," said Belinda, and at that she took a sharp inhale and sent the ball sailing. It entered the basket like a guided missile.
      "You would make it look so easy," Sydney said over the noise. She took a little longer to compose herself, but her shot had more hang time in the air and dropped through the basket like a hail stone. The crowd cheered and there were a few wolf whistles and a lot more camera flashes.
      Belinda's intuition and assessment of the crowd reaction lead her to just one thought. "Syd, you wore a thong, didn't you?"
     "Aren't you, Belle? We made a pinkie promise," Sydney said as she guided her friend by the elbow back to the table and their waiting boyfriends.
      "If it hadn't been for my tattle-tail twin rats for sisters I would've. It was the thong I wore for the '26 and '27 championships."
      "Oh, trying to follow Michael Jordan's superstition of wearing lucky clothing, eh?" Sydney teased. "Well, I got this one from Mom. She wore it when she won her first court case. She figures it will work just as well on securing a commitment from Randolph."
      Belinda mimicked her mother's raised eyebrow express. "Girlfriend, you thinking of marriage this early?"
      "Belle, I did my research. With our basketball talent we'd be better off with committed beaus instead of some trophy husbands later on."
      "Trophy husband? Come to think of it Leon would look nice on my self, considering how big I am."


The Prom was over, the janitorial crew storing tables and chairs and catering picking up plates and silverware. As for the short DJ he was packing up his gear with the help of a taller coworker. He had no doubt that the Ginger Twins will win the Championships in '28. All the universities willing to put up the money were eager to add the two girls to their programs. It was clear to the man that both girls had to be on the same team to get the maximum performance out of them. Fortunately it was in his power to make that happen, and with the other tall girls added to the mix women's college basketball was going to get more attention. All of that was just one more step to his ultimate goal.
      "What shots they made tonight," said the short man to his coworker. "Imagine when I have a whole team made up of such amazons."
      "How will you do that?" the coworker said incredulously.
       "Oh, Albert, after all these years you've helped in my plans. I will make the American women's basketball Olympic selection committee see things my way. 2032 will be known as the year the giant American kaiju women take Neo-Tokyo!"


3
By Christmas 2027 Sydney and Belinda had each received over 180 letters from colleges and universities, more specifically their athletic departments, asking to consider their establishments for their higher educational needs. They all offered substantial scholarships, both academic and athletic. It wasn't until March until both decided to go to Ohio State University. The parents had hoped they would stay to become Lady Volunteers, but no sooner had the girls signed their acceptance papers had the two households become dye in the wool Buckeye fans. Without fail Jocelyn and Ramona would wear their Buckeye lapel pins every day and made the rest of their families dress in red and grey during game days.With the Ginger Giants leading the way the Buckeyes became the juggernaut of women college basketball.
      Memorial Day, 2030 the girls were back home, their team the victors of the Big Ten Tournament. It was a remarkable win over the Hoosiers with some uncharitable souls contributing it to the Ginger Giant's growth spurt. Both Syd and Belle now stood 6'10", gaining five inches over a three month period after their birthdays. There was no pain or discomfort as their bodies enlarged, and were every bit just as lovely to behold. Except, of course, in one area.
     "Damn! You tall, girl," said one 6' even ebony Randolph as he had to strain his neck even more to look up at Sydney's face. She wore cut-off jeans and a Buckeyes tee-shirt that could've served as a sail on a scale-model boat. "You've been chowing down on steaks three times day?"
     "You wouldn't know it by looking at me," blushed the red head. "I go through food like a brush fire but almost none of it is staying. However I think Brook here packing on the pounds." Up on her shoulders for a piggy-back ride was her 8-year-old brother Brook. The dark-haired boy was enthralled with the view, smiling.
     "How's the air up there, little man?" asked Randolph. "Can you see my house from there?"
      "I can everyone's house from here!" said Brook most enthusiastically. "Hey, Sis, how does it feel like seeing the rain coming down before everyone else?"
     Sydney lifted the pint-sized joker from her shoulders and held him above the ground like he was a nonplussed cat. "How would you like to be first boy dunk-shot into space? Now why don't you go and play some hoops with Belinda's sisters? The family can always do with another superstar."
     "Oh, okay, Sis. I don't wanna interfere with your kissing time with Randy." For that sassy remark Brook was put on the ground and had a playful slap applied to his posterior.
     "Well, Syd, your brother was onto something," Randolph grinned even as his girlfriend's hand completely encompassed his as they walked to the barbeque grill. "You can become a human weather vane up in Minnesota or Alaska. If the snow goes over your head then they'll have to close the schools for sure."
     "Keep yukking it up, shorty," Sydney chided. "I was really looking forward to having something upstairs so that your hands would have something else to latch on instead of my butt."
     "Girl, I would gladly glom onto whatever bumps you have so that I can haul myself up and plant a kiss on those lips of yours without straining my neck."
     The very tall girl with looks that would make Helen of Troy envious gazed longingly at the knot of parents at the grill. While Jocelyn and Ramona easily had the most voluminous all-natural chests in the state Randolph and even Leon's mothers had notable assets. "I wished I'd stayed 5'10" and had those growth spurts applied to my chest. Back in school and in the stands I saw enough bouncing sweater meat to fill a produce aisle. I have muscle instead of boob fat, and not even plastic surgery can do anything for me, or for Belle for that matter."
     "Well, if you had anywhere near what your mom carries then you'll be permanently penalized for traveling with balls."
     For that bit of wit Sydney gave her Randy a noogie, and finished with polishing the top of his bald ebon head with her the palm of her huge hand. "For that, my enduring boyfriend, you're going to watch me eat two whole steaks, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it."
     "Remember to eat the fat, Syd. My mom is from Texas, and she said that steak fat helps makes a girl's boobs grow."
     "Huh. Is that so? My mom always had me cut away the fat from all my steaks and pork chops. Well, with my metabolism and diet I better get some cantaloupes on this chest by Christmas."




In terms of location for a hidden residence one can't go wrong by choosing the Canadian Rockies. For Mr. Big, known by some as Clifford Biggen, he had decades to add on to what was a mere cave into an elaborate underground complex. On this day he was in a section that had 1960s' decor, complete with a sculpture of a pile of New York City trash and a painting of a can of succotash. Admiring said art was Stacy, one of a very, very long line of sexual conquests. Not only was she beautiful but possessed a set of skills that Big needed.
      The well-dressed midget of a man came up to the art admirer and wrapped his arm around her. Instead of her waist, his hand rested on Stacy's bare thigh for while being tall her dress was small. "I paid $150,000 for that rare Warhol twenty years ago. In ten more I'll sell it for $300,000."
      Stacy was incredulous. "For that? A can of food doesn't make art."
      "You'd be surprized at what people would buy just because it's art. It's all in the promotion, baby. Now, you have something for me?"
      From her small purse Stacy produced four vials. "This is the last of it, Biggy. My research is indicating a potential new supply, but I'll need more money..."
      Big swiped the vials with one hand while planting a huge wad of cash into the small bit of cleavage Stacy had to offer. "That's for starters, and more will follow. My investment in your work has already been rewarded ten times over. With this new supply the final part of my plan will be realized."
      When it came to plans Big was no piker. What he had in his aged hands was the culmination of archeological and medical research that had at its heart the physical evidence of myth. One vial had the distilled essence of the Blood of the Titans. Sydney and Belinda, far from receiving growth hormones had actually been give minute amounts of the substance. Later they also got a dose of the Sweat of Atlas, giving them strength and endurance, qualities that went a long way into making them such excellent basketball players.  Acknowledging that very tall people were not known for their good looks Big also dispense a dose of the Skin of Aphrodite. The green-eyed, red headed Sydney and Belinda were undeniably attractive and had a large male fanbase that loved them for their legs. In two years time those legs will get some company.
      The last vial was the rarest of all. Above all else Big was a breast man, and following the Greek myths theme he had of what was the last known quantity of the Milk of Gaia. A woman taking the merest taste would gain teats guaranteed to satisfy the thrust of any baby. However, Big was into shapely, firm breasts. Decades earlier he had samples of the Milk of Gaia and the Skin of Aphrodite, and together they made women beautiful with large, firm proud busts. He made millions when those women, all secretly working for him, shafted their wealthy and dim-witted husbands and took their money and possessions in divorce court.
      What Big had now was enough for the plan, plus a tiny bit more. He had a list of those women that were going to get those enlarged mammaries. More importantly, Big could arrange the circumstances to give the women the Milk of Gaia. He gazed at the old fashion wall calendar next to the can of succotash painting. May 3, 2032, was circled in red. That was the first day of Olympic training for the United States women basketball team. By the time of the Summer Olympic Games in August comes around that team will have the most media buzz ever in the history of the sport.


4
"It feels like thunderstorm weather," Sydney said as she stepped off the bus, duffel bag over her shoulder. "With the tornadoes they hand last night in Nebraska I won't be surprised if we have some here today."
     Next off the bus was Belinda. The presence of the humid air was downright tangible, her sunglasses immediately fogged up. She took them off and blinked in the harsh afternoon Minnesota sun. "I hope their storm shelters can accommodate the team. Unless the locker rooms count as such."
      "Oh, they do." Both girls looked around and then down at the source of the words. It was Dr. Wisehaupt, looking appropriately aged in the eight years the girls last saw him. "They had a tornado go through here 15 years ago, and when they rebuilt the gym they had the locker rooms moved underground."
     "That's nice to know, Doc," said Sydney, actually having to bend down at the knees to be more level with his head. "The years have been kind to you. Fancy seeing you here. Are you part of the medical support staff?"
     "I am, young lady. I also have skill in aiding those with large frames. As you've seen, all of your teammates are as tall as telephone poles."
     Belinda guffawed. "Ha. If I didn't know any better I'd say they were your patients too. I suppose they've been eating a lot of red meat to get all that height."
     "If they eat steaks like you two, then yes," Wisehaupt replied. "The average height of the women's team is 6'9", with the shortest being 6'6" on bare feet."
      Sydney stood back to full height. "Then I suppose that me and Belle are the tallest?"
     "Oh, yes. You lovely ladies are 7-foot even. I've read the medical reports. Your current growth spurt started three months ago, and if it keeps up you'll be 7'2" in July, just in time for the Olympics. You'll be the tallest American girls in Olympic sports."
     Looking in the direction of the gym Belinda saw that a group of fans had gathered. A good number of them were clearly rooting for 'the Ginger Giants, waving signs and wearing t-shirts proclaiming their allegiance. Among them, of course, were the leg lovers, taking pictures and videos of Syd and Belle's perfectly-toned legs. The fact that Syd and Belle wore jeans, baggy bell bottoms at that, didn't discourage the leg lovers at all. "Doc, isn't their a drug that you can give us to stop growing? So far it's all been beneficial, but if these growth spurts keep occurring every two years then me and Syd will have to live in aircraft hangers before too long."
      "Yes, that would be a problem," Wisehaupt said conspiratorially, "especially in regards  to amorous engagements. I would be awkward to have your Leon sit in the palm of your hand in order to get a kiss." The doctor waited to see Belinda blush a shade of red lower than that of her hair. "But it will have to wait until after the Olympics. The rules enforcement committee is satisfied that yours and Sydney's  growth is natural, but to take anti-growth drugs now will raise the specter of allegations of 'doping' and such nonsense."
     Sydney nodded. "He has a point. The Chinese and Brazilians are already harping about the 'unfair' advantage of our team. We're not going to give them the excuse of 'it was the drugs' instead of admitting their own crappy playing."
     Wisehaupt patted Syd on the arm. "Ah, that is the spirit, Sydney. It is true that all the girls on the team had growth hormone treatments when they were as young as you and Belinda. However, they all stopped growing taller by the time they were 18."
     "That's not the only thing that grew," Belinda observed as team members continued to file off the bus. All the other girls on the team had ample busts, so much so they had to wear tailor-made sports bras. Even with soccer ball sized breasts they were the top players in college and pro leagues. Only Syd and Belle were the exception, still flat as boards despite their undeniable beauty they possessed.
     From a cooler he had with him Wisehaupt pulled out two bottles of mineral water and gave  them to the Ginger Giants. "All this humidity is making you girls sweat. This water has all what growing girls need to be healthy and strong."
      Belinda took the offered bottle and started to drink, leaving Sydney to do the talking. "Thanks, Doc. We're so glad to have you." With that she started to drink too, not realizing that Wisehaupt's smile had more meaning behind it than just being of assistance.




Memorial Day, 2032. The families of the team members came to the Minneapolis camp for the weekend. For the Kearns and Baines families they were getting the first looks at something the Ginger Giants have kept a secret. Jocelyn perhaps said it best. "Oh my God, Syd. You're getting some air up there!"
      Only for a brief moment did Sydney wondered if it was a good idea to wear the clinging tee-shirt, but her exuberance took over. "Talk about being a late bloomer, mom. I've waited eight years for these babies." She shook her front, and her clearly braless cantaloupe-sized breasts wobbled under the fabric.
      Jocelyn looked at the other knots of families and their longshanked and markedly pneumatic daughters. "Perhaps they grew now because you got subconsciously jealous of the other girls. That still doesn't excuse you from wearing a bra, young lady."
      "Well, mom, I never needed one until now. Perhaps you can treat me to one of the shops at the Mall of America and buy some."
      A mother's critical eye took in the chest of her titan-like daughter. "Buy some in several cup sizes. Once a Wilcox girl starts to grow only God knows how big they'll get."
      Ramona was full of pride now that her Belle was following family tradition by growing a pair of ladybumps. "So, how does it feel like? Do you get the sensation that angels are working your chest with bicycle pumps?"
      "Oh, more than that, mom," Belinda admitted. "It's like someone is constantly working them over like pizza dough. My breast are almost as big as yours where when you turned 15. If this keeps up then my bumps will slap me in the face when I come back down from a jump."
      A maternal hand patted Belinda's side. "If they can make boulder holders that actually work for me and Jocelyn then they'll have something for your melons, Belle. Now, why don't you take us on the tour? I'm itchin to see you sink an across court basket."
      "Yeah, you're gonna have to do a lot of those," said Katlyn, Belle's ten-year-old sister. "The Chinese team have built their strategy to keep you and Syd as far away from their basket as possible."
      "If you keep growing," joined Carrol, twin to Katlyn, "then you can just step over them."
      "Ah, it won't get that far." Everyone had to look around to locate the speaker of those words. They found it in the form of an old man, just as tall as Syd's ten-year-old brother Brook. "I've seen these lovely ladies practice. Their team will eat the Chinese for breakfast and will be hungry when brunch comes along."
      Sydney regarded the appearance of the little old man and snapped his fingers. "I remember you. The '26 through '28 home games at the high school. You gave out drinks to the team."
        It took Belinda a little bit longer, but she made the connection. The man with a face that came from 'the old country' still had a beatnik beard, thick glasses that looked really weird, and apparently weighed no more than 98 pounds. He even still had the jacket and cap that had the Rebel motorcycle patches. "Yeah, you always had our favorite drinks. Is that what you're doing here, Mr...."
      "Biggen. Clifford Biggen, ladies." The man's voice was old as he looked. "I'm friends with the coach. He use to be a student of mine, and he has made me the official refreshment manager during game practice. Now, I imagine you and your families would like some officially sponsored spring water right now, with all the heat and humidity and what not going on."
      "Yes, thank you." With that the two families were lead to a refreshment tent. Jocelyn and Ramona found the man quaintly charming, but definitely had the feeling that they had met him before years ago.


5
It was now July 10th. The team was set to leave for Japan in two days. Having trained intensely up to this point the girls were looking forward to enter competition. Not only did they have great confidence in their game but also in their bodies. The already pneumatic girls were a little bit more so while Sydney and Belinda were filling out shirts as fast as they were making them. They now sported basketball lungs scaled up to fit their 7'2" frames. After the last practice of the day the team held a party in their dormitory. Being sneaky they had some beer smuggled in, disguised as and mixed with actual soda cans.
     Sydney beat the odds and had four beers in a row. She had never drunk so much in so short of time and it showed. "Oh, this must've been what mom went through at college," she said on alcohol-fueled whimsy as she glommed her shirt-covered wonders. "28 inches during one summer." The very tall ginger girl swayed as she made her way to Belinda. "Then she had to get pregnant by dad and juggle marriage, schoolwork, and a baby all at the same time. I tell ya, Belle, I'm so damned good that I can carry triplets and still beat the socks off any team all by myself."
     "Ya know," Belinda added, words coming out of her mouth all heavy for she had better odds than her friend by drinking five disguised beers one right after another, "I believe you can, Syd. My mom would rattle on and on how she slugged through the books at school with her boobs covering her expanding baby pouch. Y'ad think she was the mom of Atlas or sumthin."
     Sydney grabbed another can from a cooler, and despite finding it to be just regular soda she inhaled the contents. Her burp was actually painful to listen. "You know, it's a wonder that mom didn't smother the life outta dad every time they bumped uglies. Or that he didn't choke when he got a mouthful of boob." Further proving her inebriation Syd removed her shirt, showing off her now-naked proud bust for all to see. With dexterous fingers she kneaded her breast flesh like thick pizza dough. "You think these are big enough for Randolph to freestyle climb?"
     With the other teammates gasping and giggling like overly tall schoolgirls Belinda landed a hand on Syd's left tit. "Well, this is strange. Here it is, all natural boob meat but to me it feels like a polished granite tit like those on statues."
      "Yur smoking crack, Belle. Lemme show ya." Syd pushed away her friend's hand and glommed her left tit and kneaded it just like the right one. She turned around slowly for the onlookers benefit. "You see? No way there's silly-cone or a big rock under these boobs I finally got from mom."
     "Yeah, mine are home-grown just like yours!" The urgency with which Belle pulled off her shirt was such that her breasts wobbled like two groundhogs scrambling to get back underground. With both hands she fondled her left tit like it was modeling clay. "I can't wait to smush Leon's face into these baby feeders."
     "Hey, share and share alike, girlfriend." Like she was catching a rebound Syd's hand planted itself on the underside of Belle's proud right boob and worked its way up. "What Hell. Your tit's as hard as a med'cine ball."
     "Tell me about it," said Sue, a 6'9" teammate with an ebony heritage. "Whenever we collide on the court it feels like we're being smashed by two trucks."
     Another girl stepped forward, a 6'7" dark blond Latina named Mara. She, too, had one too many beers in too short a time. Mara whipped off shirt, exposing her basketball-sized glories, and turned to show off her shoulder blade to the Ginger Giants. "See that bruise? I got that when you came down upon me in practice yesterday."
     "Lemme look at it." Syd peered at the dark patch of skin with the eye of a master jeweler. Then, spontaneously, she turned Mara around and glommed her light brown breasts like melons at the market. "Oh, hot! They're rock-hard to my touch. Tell me, did you get some silly-cone as a gift from your Quinceañera?"
     "There's no bloated bags under my skin, gigante roja." To prove her point Mara worked over her breasts in such a manner that would make a pizza maker proud. "Look. False boobies this big don't act like this at all. These grew with God's help."
     Several girls spoke their agreement. "Yeah," said another team mate, also taking her shirt off in a sign of solidarity, "whenever we bump and collide on the court we get battered by hard boobs. Yet they get all soft and pliable when we touch our own, or when our boyfriends touch them."
      "Oh yeah, that's the truth!" Belle crowed, inhaling a soda. "When I told Leon that I had sore boobies back on the 4th he worked on them for two straight hours. He didn't find one muscle, but he didn't mind."
     "What a piker, that Leon," Syd said in a drunken draw, breath heavy with a mix of beer and soda. "My Randy kept at my boobies for three hours on the 4th. He was measuring their shape from a standing position, flat on the bed, and on his face." For that admission Syd was treated to hoots and whistles of approval.
     Belle scanned the room, finally realizing that the rest of the team easily had volleyball to basketball sized breasts. Here beer-fueled mind came up with an idea. "Ya know, I think we outta have a group pic. Something to show to the grandkids in case they don't believe us."
     "Yeah," Syd said in agreement. "But everyone kinda needs to be the same. So, girls, youze all gotta get topless or me an' Belle are gonna hav to do it ourselze."


Though the windows were blocked and 'pink noise' generators operated to prevent snoopers from listening in such things didn't stop one Clifford Biggen, alias of one Mr. Big, from getting his fill. He was ensconced in a narrow storage closet, peering into the party room via a tiny peephole he installed for that very purpose. From a vantage point that was the stock of every boy's fantasy he witnessed Sydney and Belinda running around the room, naked breasts heaving with each step, cajoling their team mates into being topless or removing shirts and bras if they refused. Squeals of delight came from the Ginger Giants as they ripped off shirts like fishermen scoring in a trout stream. That all the girls were more or less drunk after so few beers and despite having large livers was filed away in Big's brain for further consideration.
     From Big's earbug came the subdued voice of Albert, his assistant in crime. "A rather wasteful way to spend your time, Big. You could've easily planted cameras and enjoyed the view from your tablet."
     "Cameras?" Big subvocalized. "Ah, pshaw. That's so '60s, Albert. Watching like this makes the memories last longer. Now, what is the real reason for this call?"
     "It's Stacy. A new source for the Blood of the Titans has been found."
     Big's grin could be heard across the radio link. "Captial! How much has she brought back?"
     "There's a problem in obtaining the supply. She needs help to collect it."
     "What is it? Natives guarding the burial site? A secret cable of wizards? Alien functionaries? Snakes?"
      "Let's just say it will require your considerable resources, Big."




After the Great Quake of 2016 the city of Tokyo was renamed Neo-Tokyo, influenced by a population raised on anime for decades. Given the extensiveness of the damage the city was still being rebuilt, a process that will take decades. With all the construction cranes present one would think of them as giant metal mushrooms along the city skyline. You could call it a cyborg city, a mix of the old and new that functioned but took some getting use to. The airborne view of the city was spectacular, and for Sydney and Belinda it was like stepping into Wonderland where they were mid-sized giants amid the throngs of enthusiastic Japanese fans. From behind the airport security line they saw the multitude of tee shirts adorned with images of their faces done in anime style. A handful, more devoted to their fandom than most, wore Gojira outfits clad in basketball attire. However, in lieu of the head of the famous radioactive lizard each outfit had either Sydney or Beldina's visage. For the girls they didn't know whether to be flattered or creeped out.
      The bus ride to the Olympic village was uninteresting since it took the new highway that avoided most of the city. As for the athlete dormitories they had the science fiction look one came to expect from Japan architecture. Clad in white and with silver appointments one would not help but think of a modern, high-tech Mount Olympus. Appropriately the USA Women's Basketball Team was assigned to Titan's Hall. Once settled and after the evening team meeting the longshanked girls turned in for the night, but not before taking care of one detail.
       Sydney's tablet was downright small in her hands and was well-worn on the edges after four years of use. Taking up most of the small screen was the grinning visage of Randolph. "Hiya, babydoll," said the ebon man. "How's the land of the rising sun?"
      Already clad in a huge nightshirt that reached down to her knees and betrayed a swath of cleavage Syd came to rest atop her custom-made bed, legs tucked under her and hair spilling down to her shoulders. "Well, I haven't seen much of it, Randy. Our route only offered a limited view. The fans were what I expected, even the weird ones."
      "It will get weirder, my tomato. I've been keeping an eye on Japanese media and pop culture. They're calling you two the Kaiju Gingu - the Ginger Monsters. Man, talk about hang-ups! When they're not talking about your long arms and legs they always have to throw in a mention about your boobs."
      Syd slightly blushed, only then recalling how some of the female fans, and creepily a few male ones, had stuffed their shirts to imitate their heroes. "Any mention of our butts, or artist renderings of panty shots?"
      "As cute and slappable that firm little bottom is, Syd, that's a distant second to your rack. I'm sure your team has been briefed about it, but every interview you do over there will have some questions about how you're able to play so well for being so... big." Randy waited for his Syd to stop her giggling. "You know, there's a rumor around that your balloon boobs are the result of a new kind of experimental implants and gene therapy."
      "Really? I'm surprised they didn't throw in that old chestnut about radiation. After all, me and Belle took a tour at Oakridge back in '22 and..." The ginger girl stopped when she saw and heard her boyfriend try to smother a laugh. "What's so funny, shorty?"
      "I'm sorry, tomato baby, but 'chestnut' just sounded so damn funny when you say it."
      "Sure it does. Sounds like you need a time out." At that Syd wedged the tablet between her breasts so that only the top half could be clearly seen in the little gap afforded by the night shirt, camera and screen facing outwards. "Perhaps looking at those mountains will calm you."
      "Hmm... you're bigger for sure," cooed the ebon man. "Still growing?"
      "Can't say for sure, Randy. We'll have a check-up in the morning. But I'm sure my boobs aren't growing 'cause I can feel if they are. It's like an army of hands are pushing outwards with subtle pressure."
      A short knock on the door preceded Belinda's entrance. She, too, was clad in a huge night shirt and had her well-wore tablet snug her cleavage. Though partially obscured Syd easily made out Leon, Belle's boyfriend, on the screen. "Hello, you two," said the beaming Latino. "Especially you, Syd. You're just as healthy upstairs as I remember."
      "From what I see you're looking fine as well, Leon," Syd replied. "You're in a spot where you don't have to worry about suffocating."
      "Like you should talk," Belle said. "Giving Randy some long-distance loving? I hope you clean the screen afterwards." The laughter from the girls that followed produced a tit-quake that sated the breast lust of both on-line beaus. Belle pointed to her tablet's screen. "Anyway, this hopeless bozo says that he and Randy will be arriving as planned two days before the opening ceremony."
      Syd turned her tablet around so that she could see Randy's face. "As planned? I thought you weren't able to be here until the Monday after the ceremony."
      Now it was Randy's turn to blush. "Well, me and Leon were able to pull some strings and call in some favors, courtesy of our congressmen. We're going to be at every game, babydoll. If any fanboy tries to squeeze your produce we'll be there to watch you step on them like bugs."
       "I'm sure those two will cheer the loudest," said Belle. "They have to, otherwise we might step on them by mistake."


6
The opening ceremonies for the 2032 Olympics were held at Genom Stadium. It was easy to pick out the Ginger Giants even out on the field. Only a few male African athletes were as tall if not a smidge taller, a fact the Japanese and Chinese press kept harping about. While the Japanese were singularly impressed with the height and downright buxomness of the USA team the Chinese were suspicious. Claims of gene modification, along with diets composed of genetically modified food, where thrown about like so many eggs against the American women. It wasn't that the Chinese team was lacking in the height, far from it. While very capable players the Chinese women were very lanky and lean and could charitably be described as having 'pedestrian' looks. As for the American team they all looked like normal-sized women scaled up in perfectly proportions. Perfect, of course, except for their rather pneumatic breasts and attractive, goddess-level looks.
     First to fall to Team America were the Japanese. One could not help but think they were watching a game between older and younger, markedly smaller sisters. They played alright, but were simply 'outmassed' from the beginning and had the bruises to prove it. Not until the third game, against the Cubans, that the phrase 'double stacked offense' was coined by an exuberant Japanese journalist, a tasteless reference to a certain part of the team's anatomy and how it was used like 'domesticated mountains.' For the opposing teams it was a matter of intimidation, being surrounded by 21st century Amazons that had no compunction using all of their assets to win. In sports bars throughout the world men gave as much attention to each Team USA game as they would to championship games of soccer and American football. Seeing the gyrations, collisions and impacts of pronounced breasts brought whistles and whoops of approval.
     After the victory against the Venezuelan team Sydney and Belinda were interviewed by the press corps. Being the sensation-seeking jackals they were the reporters had a playaback of the game nearby for the Ginger Giants to look at and hopefully have their reactions captured. Though they were aware of what they did on the court this was the first time they've actually seen it from the perspective of the camera. In one clip Sydney jumped to block the shot of a Venezuelan player, and in doing so the face of the player impacted against her bust. It was the way that face contoured that reminded Sydney of a bowl of jello hitting a cement floor. In another clip a turn by Belinda had her mammical mass impact the side of another player. For those watching it might as well have been a dump truck hitting a puppy.
     "Ginger Giants," said one reporter, his Japanese accent more noticeable due to his excitement, "do you expect to be bigger?" Intending to mean height the reporter spread his arms wide instead of up and down. That brought guffaws and grins from the others for while the reporter made a faux pas they were glad they didn't mention the obvious and reaped the reward of catching the two very tall women blushing.
     "If you mean bigger media coverage then yes," Sydney said quickly. "We like the attention we're getting."
     Another reporter, wearing an ID badge that identified him as being from Venezuela, asked the next question. "All members of your team are of abnormal height and build. There's not a one that can be called skinny. Was that a deliberate decision on the Americans' part?"
     Belinda took this one. "Everyone of us were chosen at the team trails because of our talent, not for our shapes."
     While the others accepted that answer the Venezuelan reporter clearly had a problem. "For the last three Olympics and Pan American Games the American women basketball team was defeated, often by large margins," said the reporter in a patronizing tone.
     "Yes, that's true," Sydney said. She and Belinda had been warned of possible baiting by Venezuelan reporters. Relations between the two nations had never been cordial for the last two decades and anything that would paint the 'Yankee Devils' in a bad light would be most welcomed by the current government in Caracas. Not one to suffer fools Sydney made up her mind and damn-all what might come of it. "Are you going somewhere with this? If you are then I'll need some snacks."
      The laughter from the others only served to embarrass the reporter, something he clearly didn't like. "Your government is using these games and your team in particular to avenge for past losses. No, it's worse! This is an attempt to humiliate and intimate every nation in the lower Americas to dance to Washington's beck and call! How long before every child in your country is given growth drugs and made into strong giants? Giants that will consume the life out of every other nation in order to fill their bellies! Admit it! You two are the first of millions that will make the whole of the Americas into a Yankee Empire!"
      Licking his lips in anticipating of an answer from the Ginger Giants the reporter got something else instead. Stepping through the knot of reporters and putting themselves in front of their girls were Jocelyn and Ramona. Both wore Team America jeans and sweat tops emblazoned with the American flag. Never have the colors been displayed in such a proud, firm and full manner. Jocelyn put her hands on her hips and somehow made herself appear taller than actual 5'1" frame. "Oh my," she said like she was in court. "Political accusations at the Olympics? How juvenile."
     Also appearing a little taller by her force of personality, despite being 25" shorter than her daughter, was Ramona. "You could've saved some time had you and the Chinese did a joint accusation against the USA. Though how you two could top the North Koreans is anyone's guess."
     Sensing his time was running out as his fellow reporters were making space for officials to approach the reporter made one last barb. "Typical Yankee imperial behavior! I think I've found the source of the drug that made all those senoritas gigante! The milk of your pechos might as well be poison for it is growing an army that will crush the world!" Despite himself the reporter let loose with a gob of spit that impacted on Jocelyn's face. What he didn't expect was for the short woman with a 70" bust to do something about it right then and there. She grabbed the front of his cheap, loud shirt and kung-fu'd his legs out from under him. He fell to the floor like a stack of bananas, crying for his lost machismo.
     The other reporters applauded. "Oh, such a power move for a massive milfu!" the Japanese reporter blurted out. "Mama grizzlies protect the cubs from uncouth cur!"
     Ramona turned to the Ginger Giants, grinning a motherly grin. "Run along, girls. This pair of milfu will take care of this mess."




Big, disgusted with what he saw, turned off the monitor and downed the rest of the wine he was drinking. "Albert, tell Caracas that they're no longer getting jack squat from us. As for that jackass of a reporter make it so that it's in his best interest to leave Japan."
      "Yes, Big." Albert picked up the empty wine glass and wiped the counter top with a napkin. "We'll be in satellite contact with the excavation site presently. Lady Stacey is in the observation lounge."
      "Excellent." Wearing a smoking jacket given to him by Hugh Hefner back in 1961 Big made his way through his underground Canadian Rocky Mountain lair. He found his current squeeze Stacey waiting for him. She looked like a Barbie doll in a dress that was definitely too small in all the right places. Big looked at her like a dehydrated man about to drink his fill from an oasis. "Well, toots, in a few minutes we're either going to have the Greek equivalent of Al Capone's vault or be rich beyond the dreams of avarice."
      "I just find it amazing that there's still undiscovered islands in this day and age." A tall woman in her own right Stacey had to bend down like any other woman in order to kiss Big on the lips. "Those scrolls and tablets I researched wouldn't have amounted to anything had you not provided the piece I needed. By the way, where did you get that tablet fragment?"
      "Ah, you're going to have to wait until after my minions are done."
      "Minions?"
      "Just watch the screen, toots."
      Stacey's research had located a previous unknown island, located between Easter Island and the Maria Theresa Reef. Using his considerable influence Big had a spy satellite image the island and made a profound discovery. A scaled-down version of the Acropolis was on that island along with what appeared to be the entrance of a large tomb in the side of a hill. The minions Big mentioned had been on the island for over a week, doing a site survey and preparing for the excavation. Stacey was suitable impressed by the speed with which Big made this all happen. He wasn't kidding when he said that he had resources. When the robots appeared on the screen she giggled. "Those are your minions? They look like they were made by preschoolers."
      "Despite their appearance as walking boilers those robots are very sophisticated." Big pulled out a pipe from his smoking jacket and lit up, taking a long draw and exhaling the smoke like a chimney. "They don't sleep, eat, or ask for more money after the job is done. Ah, they're doing it!"
      Both the young woman and very old man watched as the robots removed block after block of immaculate carved stone from the tomb entrance. Anticipation grew as the discarded pile of stones accumulated on a parked flatbed truck until the 20' tall arch was cleared. The camera view changed to a perspective from one of the robots as powerful floodlights were turn on, illuminating the way in. The excitement was such that Stacey's breasts escaped the confines of her tiny dress and Big didn't pause to glomm them. Her feminine chest cushioned the back of Big's head as she spoke. "If this is indeed the Tomb of the Titans then we'll find relics that will fetch tens of millions at auction at the very least. If there's a body, then..."
      "...then we'll be able to sell pure doses of the Blood of the Titans at the highest bidder!" Big crowed. "Not only basketball, but volleyball and football will have 7' powerhouses on every team! Oh, look at that!" With an aged finger he pointed to the screen. The floodlights revealed not one but five 30' tall sarcophagi. If only one of them was occupied...
      The feed from the current robot went inexplicably dead. Shifting back to an exterior view the other robots formed up at the entrance, clearly expecting something as the sound of crunching metal came from the tomb. Like a lightning bolt the first robot sailed from the entrance and impacted against the floodlights, plunging the tomb back into darkness. That robot was crumpled up like a soda can, and the cause was revealed. A huge, dark figure roughly in the shape of a man appeared at the tomb's entrance, menacing and powerful. In short order the creature went on to bash and batter the robots into scrap, roaring in primal rage. With the last robot gone the creature next tuned on the equipment, utterly demolishing it. The exterior camera and microphones went out as the power generator was smashed, leaving Big and Stacey dumbfounded.
      "What the hell was that?" Big exclaimed as he work the screen controls. As the event was recorded he rewound the feed to to point where the monster made it appearance. After applying a few filters he got a clear view.
      Only now noticing her top was exposed Stacey pulled her dress back up. "Open a Titan tomb, get a guardian cyclops for free. I guess we missed that part of tablet that said the place was guarded."
       Big leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand across Stacey's mostly naked thighs. "Looks like we're going to need bigger robots."


7
After all was said and done it finally came down between Team America and the Chinese in the gold medal game. For all the harping the Americans received about supposed genetic manipulation it was 'The Team from Hong Kong' that had the giant skeleton in its closet. Actually drawn from farming communities across China the girls were the end product of decades of pairing tall parents to produce tall offspring. The basketball authority got the creme of this crop, getting girls that were at least 6'8". While excellent players they all had to have constant attention for their bodies were much prone to damage. By the time they went up against Team America each Chinese player wore a knee brace. In contrast Sydney, Belinda and the others were the epitome of health with not one bum knee or elbow among them. Had the Chinese but known that the great health the Americans experienced came from doses of the Blood of the Titans provided anonymously by Mr. Big over the years.
     It was the most watched game of the '32 Olympics and remained in the top five of most view games of all time for over two hundred years. All saw how sweat flowed like wine from decanters with wrist and head bands becoming soaked within minutes of being worn. It was like seeing a pinball game made up of human parts with the Team from Hong Kong feeling every impact of breasts against their bodies. Each play, each rally was a battle in a war, crafted by the Chinese coaches to wear down the American titans. However, against the Ginger Giants, it was the Chinese losing the war of attrition. By the last quarter only two players from the start remained, the rest were replaced as team members fell to the wayside, unable to take the pounding on the court no more. At the end the Chinese, exhausted and with bum knees, were unable to prevent a final drive lead by Belinda. The shot of her planting the winning basket became an iconic image for the Games.
     At the awards ceremony the Japanese officials had to use a portable platform in order to bestow the Team America players their gold medals. The cheering was still ringing in Sydney and Belinda's ears when they finally got to meet with their families back at the Olympic Village. After dishing out bearhugs Belinda picked up her 11-year-old sisters Carol and Katlyn, using her arms like impromptu ski lifts. "So, are you two inspired to play basketball next year?"
     "We rather play soccer than basketball if we're not as tall as you," said Carol, getting a confirming nod from her twin. "Since we're growing normally we won't have the reach that you have."
     "There's more to basketball than height," Belinda countered. "There's been plenty of girls standing 5'4" that turned out to be great players."
     Katlyn gave her twin a conspiratorial wink. "We'd rather be short and fat-chested like mom. We'll run down the boys and pin them to the ground until they kiss us and become part of our harem."
     "Yeah, just like you've been doing with Leon," Carl said briskly.
     "If you ever get that big then the boys will line up around the block, you minxes." Belinda chided.
     Carol pulled a piece of newsprint from her shoulderbag, opening it up for Belinda to read. The very tall gold medal winner rolled her eyes afterwards. "Well, that's all between me and my hot Latin hunk, and not for some gossipy Japanese rag. Some rat who can't stand my success is just trying to kick up some dirt for quick cash."
     "Sports paparazzi, gotta love'em." It was Leon that spoke those words. He was late, no thanks to the crowds and extra security that ensued after Team America's victory. "And we thought we had the field to ourselves back on the 4th."
     Belinda placed her sisters back on the ground in exchange for lifting up her endearing boyfriend to get a well-earned kiss. "Well, you got to remember that the field lights were on, and I did suggest the equipment shed."
    "Equipment sheds are so cliche, my gigante rojo. Now using the bedroom of the assistant coach while he was out of town, that was smart."
     Belinda pinched the earlobe of her Latin lover. "Please, Leon, not in front of the children."
    Across the room Sydney got down to one knee so her brother Brook could get a good look at the medal. "So what do you think of your really big sis, bro? You'll have to keep the girls away with a stick now that I'm world famous."
     "Well," said the 11-year-old as he admired the glint of light from the medal, "as much as I like the prospect of being super popular at school I still want a few more years of freedom before getting involved with girls."
     "You got that right, Brook." This was from Frank, Sydney's father. He, too, was admiring the gold medal from his big girl's side, hand on her shoulder. "Once you get involved with girls there's no going back. Enjoy your time as a free man for as long as possible."
     "Listen to your father, Brook. He speaks the truth." Looking for the source of those words Sydney was pleased to find that they came from Randolph, her ebon prince. Like Leon he finally made it past the crowds and security. He only stopped once he planted a kiss on his woman's blushing face. "Though I must say that for the last five years my mind has been at school but my heart has been in Syd's hand."
     Syd kissed her man again. "I need my giant hands to hold your very big heart, Randy. If being my boyfriend wasn't exciting enough then you'll get your fill. I've been approached by Japanese advertisers ever since we got here. One wants me to sell shampoo and another footwear."
     "That's not what I heard, Big Red," Randy said in tease, using his pet name for Sydney. "A company wants you to hawk their bras and another for feminine hygiene products."
     Brook wrinkled his nose. "Feminine hygiene? You mean deodorant and toothpaste?"
     Frank shook his head. "You'll have a few more years to find out what that really means, Son."




"Ah, dammitt!" Big exclaimed at the large monitor before him. "So much for those machines! Albert! Disinvest from Genom Corp and have our partners do the same. I'll see to it that Quincy will only be able to sell talking colostomy bags!"
      The most able criminal assistant nodded. "You have to admit, Big, that those machines lived up to their name. Boomers, indeed."
      Big's eye still worked over the scene of devastation as shown by the monitor. The island that Stacey's investigation and Big's resources found was not only home to an out-of-place Greek ruins but also to one quite obvious cyclops. The 15' real creature had destroyed Big's first attempt to pillage the Tomb of the Titans. In response the master criminal came to the island in a freighter carrying a load of combat androids supposedly more capable than his own boiler android troopers. For all the millions Big spent to purchase them he might as well used the money to finance the arts. The cyclops only needed his cunning, strength, a club and the occasional rock to demolish the six Genom-built machines. Even now the creature from antiquity was tossing the wrecks into a pile down the side of a cliff.
      "I'm going topside, Albert. We'll stay here until further notice."
      "Aye, Sir."
      Up on the fantail Big found Stacy gazing at the island through a pair of high-powered binoculars. While Big was dressed like monied yacht owner from the 1960s Stacy had sandals, capri pants and a long-sleeve shirt that was tied up front. She turned when she heard Big approach, lowering the binoculars. "Big, compared to what awaits us in the tomb those oversized action figures are but a week's allowance."
      "You said it, toots. This requires the application of the grey matter. We might try poison gas..."
      "That'll risk contamination of the tomb, Big. All those Titan remains may become worthless."
      Big rubbed his chin, looking at the island with a calculating eye. "High explosives might collapse the tomb and crush the caskets. Getting big game hunters isn't an option either. Our window of opportunity wouldn't allow for it. Despite my best efforts some of my competitors are following my trail. We must act quickly."
      Stacy looked back at the island. "Too bad there are no titans that we can use to fight the cyclops."
      Upon hearing that a grin of grins filled Big's face as he brought Stacy around and kissed her on the lips. "My dear, what a wonderful idea! Only creatures imbued with the essence of the gods can defeat the cyclops!"
      "You don't mean..."
      "Oh yes, my talented sweetie. I knew there would always be another use for them other than basketball!" From the interior pocket of his yachting jacket Big produced a small vial. "My dear, regardless of what happens, you've earned your bonus early."
      Taking the vial eagerly Stacey removed the top and down the seemingly miniscule contents. She licked her lips to savior the last bit of essence. "How soon will I see results?"
      "It's undiluted Milk of Gaia with a dash of the Skin of Aphrodite, toots," Big said as his eyes gravitated to Stacy's shirt. "So it should be happening... now."
      A surge of feeling made Stacey stagger for a moment, and she braced herself against the railing. With the warmth one feels from picking up a fresh loaf of bread the woman removed her shirt and binoculars so the view was unobstructed. Her already proud and pert E-cup breasts filled out like balloons under the tap. Expectant and happy hands caressed and held the growing mass like the melons they were starting to imitate. Fingers that were clearly visible quickly became surrounded by boob flesh and pushed down and away. Soon the hands that the fingers were attached to had to move further and further from Stace's frame in order to maintain their grasp on the essence-powered breasts.
      "I think you gave me too much, snookums," Stacy said, pleasantly perplexed instead of concerned.
      "Not at all," Big replied as he witnessed the final surge of growth. "Unlike the watered-down examples I gave to those basketball girls over the years the pure stuff gives the taker the breasts she's entitled to. From what you have now I'd say you're 'quite' entitled!"
      The removal of her hands only had a miniscule effect on the carriage of Stacy's breasts. They were proud, full and firm things tipped with nipples that only emphasized just how big her ladybumps were now. Her bellybutton was barely visible, and the small steps she took toward Big obscured it completely as her tit mass jiggled up and down. "There's practically no weight, Big. I could knock a guy over if I turn around around too quickly. Just how big am I now?"
      As the great connoisseur of all things bosomy Big made his judgement. "I'd say 84 inches at least, perhaps 86." He pulled out a cloth tape measure from his jacket pocket. "Care for the official result?"
      Stacy embraced the short man and buried his head and a good portion of his upper body between her newly-earned pneumatic glories. "After dinner, my snookums. I have a hunger fit for a goddess."


8
The American athletes left Japan, spending a week at Hawaii before heading for the mainland. The women's basketball team, however, went to Guam first for two days to play an exhibition game to a standing-room only crowd. Afterwards, with some free time left to them, the Kearns and Baines families toured the island. Accompany them were teammates Mara and Sue, more to have some time away from the adoring crowd than for anything else. The last place visited was an accessible WW2 battlesite.
     The driver of the large touring van, a Guam native short in stature and advanced in years, walked up and stood by Jocelyn's side. "Ah, many good Joes fought to rid the island of the Japanese. My father and grandfather told me what happened in those years."
     "Do you know much about the battle for Guam?" Jocelyn inquired. "Now that I'm here I would like to see the spot where my great-grandfather died."
      "I'm an encyclopedia, beautiful, bountiful lady. What is your great-grandfather's last name?"
     "Wilcox."
     The silver-and-white haired native nodded. "Good, good I know the place. Come, gather your party and I'll drive them there."
     Fully loaded the van transitioned from paved to dirt roads, complete with dips and bumps necessitating a slow speed. For the comfort of his passengers the driver turned on the air conditioning. More than cool air came out of the vents, for one by one they dozed off with the four Team American girls being the last.
     "Sleepish gasss," Sydney slurred, eyelids heavy as lead caskets. "Dhamm Chinesy gett'n their revhenge."
     "Kidnappin," said Sue, feeling her arms turning into clay as tried to reach forward to the steering wheel. "Somma Japanezze guy wantus for his harem."
     Belinda fumbled in her effort to use the custom-made cell phone. It fell to the floor and skidded under her seat. "Gotta call the coach." In reaching down her head touched the back of the seat in front of her. The unnatural softness of the fabric was all that was needed for her to complete the trip to Slumberland.
     "Must'a be the Vennieswayla nation-all papher." Mara, too, was trying to use her cell phone. "Gonna get us all nekked and ruin our repu-tayshions." Like her ginger counterpart Mara just couldn't keep a grasp on the custom-sized phone and dropped it. She fell asleep even before her hand touched the floor.
     The driver was unaffected for he had noseplugs and a filter mask over mouth that kept out the special sleeping gas of his own creation. He pressed a recessed button that was on the steering wheel and turned the van onto another side road. Half a mile further on he reached his destination. A distinguished-looking man was waiting, and behind him was a sleek, stealthy-looking aircraft. It was more than large and capable enough to hold the van, and the driver did so, rolling up the ramp and onto the cargo deck. Once secured the driver and his partner left the cargo deck and entered the cockpit. In under five minutes the jet was airborne and on its way to yet another rendezvous, this time far out in the Pacific Ocean.
     "A most satisfactory operation, Big," said the partner. "You were totally convincing."
     "Thank you, Albert. They suspected nothing." With both hands the little man removed the facial mask and wig, revealing his true face. "Especially Jocelyn and Ramona. With all their lawyer experience they should've smelled a rat like me. I guess I reminded them of the Fat Panda manager I played all those years ago. They associate the huge breasts they got with good times, and apparently they also associate short, ethnic men with those good times."
     "A valid theory, Big. However, will you go through and reveal your true identity to them?"
     "You know me so well, Albert. Not right away, of course. See their faces screw up into expressions of righteous indignation is going to be as much fun as glomming the breasts of those tower titanesses we're carrying."




The first to wake up was Belinda, head pounding with the force of a hangover. With bleary eyes she took in her surroundings as she rose to her feet. Shafts of bright light dispelled enough of the gloom to show what appeared to be white columns supporting a stone ceiling. In the center of the large, mostly bare room was Sydney, Mara and Sue, sprawled out on the floor and unconscious.
      "Hey, get up," Belinda said, shaking Sydney by the shoulder. "We're not in Kansas anymore."
      Sydney sat up, rubbed her eyes and looked around. "Someone turn off the fire alarm in my head. Where are we?"
      "I rightly don't know, Syd. Those fancy columns look at home on a movie set."
      Sydney rose slowly as her legs felt wobbly. "Well, Belle, someone went through the trouble to drug and kidnap us. You would think they'll have us in jail cells or caged in a warehouse. Did you see if the columns were made of styrofoam? This place looks fake."
      A crackle of static erupted from the ceiling, being loud enough for Sue and Mara to awaken in a start. "I assure you that it's all quite real, ladies," said an authoritative male voice. "You're standing in a genuine ancient Greek-style building located on an island in the vast expanse of the Pacific."
      "So says the mystery voice," Belle mocked. "This place is as good as any other. Just what do you want for us?"
      "Oh, it's what you can do for me. I have a task that can only be achieved by persons with your... attributes," said the voice in a low, schmoozey tone.
      Sydney made the time out sign towards the ceiling. "Hey, if you're thinking of letting a bunch of midget men try to climb us like Mount Everest then you have another thing coming. I've seen the social boards where the height freaks posted their sex fantasies regarding me and Belle."
      "Oh, nothing like that, young lady. It's purely physical labor. For all of one afternoon's worth of work I'll set you, your friends and your families free."
      "Speaking of families," Belle said indignantly, "prove to us they're still alive."
      A condescending chuckle filled the air. "Use your cell phones. You'll see that you have an incoming video call waiting. Sue and Mara, your presence here was purely circumstantial, and you won't be able to use your cell phones at all."
      "As if that makes anything better," Sue said, giving Mara a fist-bump of solidarity.
      Sydney smiled as the image of her brother Brook appeared on the cell phone's screen. "Hey, Bro, you and the folks okay?"
      "Yeah, Sis," Brook said exuberantly. "We woke up in some sort of rad luxury hotel suite. It has a game nook and a mini-bar filled with soda. Then this creepy voice told us that we're his involuntary guests until you do something for him."
      "Just be strong for mom and dad, Brook. Keeping a clear head is the best thing to do under the circumstances."
      For Belinda it was one of her sisters. She knew it was Katlyn for the younger sibling tended to favor having her hair over to her right while Carol favored her left side. "Being treated well, little sis? How are mom and dad holding up?"
      "Yeah, it's just like the hotel room in Neo-Tokyo, but they're chewing mad at whoever nabbed us."
      "Can you put mom or dad on, Katlyn?"
      The 11-year-old shook her head. "The creepy voice said only me and Brook can talk, otherwise he'll turn off the phones."
      "I trust you're satisfied," said the voice, and at that the video links went down, leaving blank screens on the cell phones. "The GPS function on your phones won't work, and you cannot connect to the outside world. From now on only I will be in contact with you. Needless to say, if you fail to follow my orders then your families will pay for it."
      "That goes without saying," said Sydney. "You'll have to prove to us that you're not a stereotypical film villain."
      Chuckling filled the air again. "Good, good. I see you have your ancestor's wit, Sydney. I hope you're able to make further quips once you see what I have lined up for you and your friends."


9
At the prompting of their captor the girls went outside and saw for themselves the exterior of the building. It looked very much like an ancient Greek temple, aside from the fact that it was intact and immaculate in appearance. Sydney inspected one of the pillars, feeling the polished stones for herself. "Definitely not styrofoam. Someone went through a lot of trouble to build it."
     "It's plausible that someone with more money than sense built this than actual ancient Greeks," said Belinda. "One only needs to look at Branson and Trump for grandiose, expensive structures."
     "You'll be convinced soon enough." It was the captor's voice, coming from a speaker perched atop the temple. "I imagine you four are thirsty. There's a cooler on the north side filled with bottled water."'
     "How gracious," said Sue, addressing the speaker, "whoever you are. What is your name, anyway?"
     "You may call me Mr. Sèzhītú."
     Sue harrumphed. "Mr. Sez-You? There's no way you're Chinese with that voice."
     Belinda snapped her fingers. "Mr. Sèzhītú? You're the one that mom and Mrs. Kearns worked for back in college?"
     "The very same, and as for my voice I had extensive English lessons while growing up in Hong Kong. Imagine how surprised Jocelyn and Ramona will be once they find out it's me."
     "You better be behind some thick walls, Sez-You," Sydney said, affirming Sue's choice of saying their captor's name. "You probably had a hand in making my mom's breasts bigger 23 years ago and caused what happened to me and Belinda, not to mention the rest of the team. Growth spurts just don't happen every two years for the last six like clockwork, nor is it rational for a whole team to become balloon smugglers over the course of one summer."
     "Ah, there's some conviction in your voice, Sydney. Undoubtedly from listening to practice arguments your mother made with you as her audience. Also you have shrewd deductive skill and feminine intuition, despite what the fictional Ironside said on the latter. You should know that it all comes down to the evidence. Just wait until you have some before making baseless accusations."
     Mara, having went to fetch the cooler, came back with a rather small one along with a large box she found. "Well, I'm accusing you for being cheap," she said indignantly, dropping the box and hold up the cooler to the speaker. "Just four lousy water bottles, and 16 oz ones at that. You could afford to bring us here and not provide for the basics? There's not even power bars, you dink."
     Sèzhītú's voice was backed up with a chuckle. "There's a fresh water stream not too far away, girls. Besides, you'll be on the island for as long as it takes to complete the task. An afternoon if not less. Now, take your water. Your work begins immediately."
     "It goes without saying," Sydney said, taking a bottle, twisting the cap off like it was the head of a chicken. "We better get a W-2 form for this, or I'm suing." The water was downed in one swig of the bottle, and the other three finished just as fast.
     "Ah, good," said Sèzhītú. "You'll be going along the path before you. It leads to the Tomb of the Titans. Once you defeat the Cyclops and secure the tomb you and your family and friends will be returned to civilization."
     Sue said it first and perhaps the best. "Titans and Cyclops? I knew it! We've been kidnapped for a porn video after all." She wiped the sweat off her brow, amazed that she was sweating in an already cool, cloudy day.
     "You're going to have to drug us first in order to do that!" Belinda said indignantly. "I bet you already did 'cause I'm sweating something fierce for no reason."
     "Ah, that's just a side effect of an increase dosage," said Sèzhītú. "It is true. You and Sydney, as well as the other girls, received periodic doses of a growth drug over the last six years. What you received previously is miniscule in comparison to what you just drank. Whereas it took months to work you'll be experiencing it in minutes."
     Sydney wanted to object to such obvious nonsense but was stopped by a surge of heat and a sensation of tightness in her chest. The front of her tracksuit became more and more restrictive with each passing heartbeat, turning the garment from loose-fitting to snug if not skintight. The sports bra felt like a vice with the elastic band of the panty imitating a belt that was two sizes too small. With a yank Sydney pulled the zipper down to her bellybutton when it became impossible to go any further for the sides of her suit were splitting from the armpits with the sports bra losing its grip on her burgeoning melons, ripping down the front and back.
     Belinda didn't get the zipper past her bust when her track suit ruptured just like Sydney's. The legs ripped along the seams, starting from the hips and racing downward. Looking at her hands Belinda winched as the band of her high school ring simply broke.
     The sports shoes on Sue's feet came apart like they were made of rotted leather. In her hand the water bottle became impossibly smaller and smaller. Looking at the speaker she noticed how it was becoming more and more aligned with her eyes. "Oh, damn, we're getting taller!"
     "Growing, actually," said a smug Sèzhītú. "If my calculations are correct all of you will be twice as tall as you were a mere few minutes earlier."
     Mara, now a clear 9 feet in quite bare feet, was about to punch the speaker as soon as keep on listening. "As if getting custom clothes wasn't expensive enough. A giant woman isn't going to limit herself to wearing tents and sails. Have you made any other women into giants?"
     "I don't know." Sèzhītú's shrug was sensed over the speaker. "Your the first ones to take so much pure Blood of the Titans in one sitting. 14 feet, 20 feet, or even 30 feet. Included was a dash of the Sweat of Atlas and Hair of Hercules to give you even more strength."
      Now 11 feet tall Sue cradled her ample naked breasts, now free from bra and suit alike, in her arms. "All of that might as well be Spanish Fly, Sez-You. Whatever you gave us is making our boobies fill out faster than the rest of of our bodies."
     "Hmm. Interesting side effect of so much pure Blood of the Titans. It gives you more of what already got, apparently. Despite the surprised and disgusted look on your faces you appear lovelier than ever."
     "I'm with Sue," said Sydney, now at her friend's height and still climbing. "You could've used that gobbily gook of ingredients to make more 7 foot tall basketball players. Instead you're showing yourself to be a pervert. What's this porno gonna be called, Sez-You? 'Giant Amazons of the Pacific'?"
     "No. More like 'The Busty Amazons verse the Cyclops'. Ah, it appears your growth has stopped. A shade under 15 feet. Just right to fight the Cyclops eye-to-eye."
     Mara tried to cover her modesty now that her track suit was in tatters. "If that's suppose to mean it's a giant robot penis then I'll find you and crush you, Sez-You."
     "Such bold talk from a girl that's showing all the right places," Sèzhītú retorted. "As much as I like seeing you four mostly exposed I have some clothes in that large box that you dropped."
     Belinda walked over to the box, shedding strips of track suit behind her in the process. She ripped off the cardboard top and pulled out one of four plastic pouches. Once the contents were removed she held them out for all to see. It appeared to be a standard bikini bottom with a bandeau top, both adorned with tiger stripes. "You got to be kidding me! There's no way something this tiny is gonna fit!"
     "Ah, but you're wrong, Miss Belinda Baines. Each of the four bikinis is made from the Cloth of the Titans. They're stretch to fit, even if you get bigger, though more of your charms will be exposed."
    "Even bigger?" Sydney quizzed. She looked at her breasts, noting that they were visibly larger in comparison to her body now.
     "Oh, yes. Like I said, you four took pure Titan blood. Combined with the previous diluted doses you may get random growth spurts."
     Belinda turned her back on the speaker while she removed the rest of her ruined track suit. She didn't doubt there were plenty of hidden cameras looking at her as she put on the bikini, but it was the principle of the matter of not showing off the goods while dressing. "I suppose you have a way to restore us to our previous heights if we do this thing you asked of us. Going through life as 15 foot giants will be awfully inconvenient."
     "If you're good girls I'm sure my researchers can find a way to do that, Belinda."




From their posh luxury suites the Kearns and Baines families where ushered to a small, 12-seat stadium-style theater. Their escorts were robots best described as appearing like the ones used in 1930's movie serials. With mechanical muscle to back up their comical appearance the robots not-so-gently coaxed Frank and Jacob forward each step of the way, only finding respite once sitting. After a moment the lights went dim and the screen came to life. On that screen was a man, rather short when compared to the desk he was standing next to. He wore dark pants, dark overshirt with silver buttons and a stiff collar that covered his neck. As for his face Jocelyn and Ramona knew it the instant they saw it. "Hào Sèzhītú!" Jocelyn said first. "Our old boss from the Fat Panda back in college!"
      "The very same, Mrs. Kearns," said the man in a voice that didn't match the one from memory, but was all so familiar. "I hope you've found the accommodations most agreeable, yes?"
      "We'll be more agreeable once we're free," Ramona retorted. "Was that you that talked over the speakers in the suites?"
      "That was my partner, as in partner in crime. You see, that summer in '09 I was posing as the Fat Panda manager while I drew up and executed my plan to rob the Rock'n'Soul and Fire Museums in Memphis."
      "You did that?" Jocelyn injected. "They never did find out who did the robberies, and the stolen goods haven't been seen in 23 years."
      "A true master's work. By your faces I see you're still a bit stymied. Almost as enjoyable when your inadvertently exposed yourselves in my presence on your last night of work." Sèzhītú chuckled as the two women involuntarily corralled their clothed bosoms in their arms with hands over their nipples. From the looks of the husbands it was clear they never told them about that incident.
      "Hey, don't embarrass my mom, you dink!" said Brook, pointing an accusing finger at the screen.
      Sèzhītú folded his arms like he had the winning hand. "Such bravado. You probably got that from watching your mom defend the indefensible in court. I'm fortunate to be able to have Sydney and her friends as a back-up plan. It's a pleasant bonus of my project."
      Jocelyn's eyes narrowed. "What project?" Again she was intrigued by the voice of the man, so familiar yet still on the edge of complete recall.
      "Have you ever wondered how it came to be that this year's Team America's female basketball team had no-one shorter that 6'6"? It's no accident. For the last 12 years, with the help of partners, I have strove to make thousands of basketball-inclined young girls in tower titanesses. Of the hundreds that followed through they became phenomenal basketball players. With occasional augmentations to their height, stamina, and strength they became the powerhouses of their teams."
      "From what happened back in May you also augmented their breasts, I bet." Ramona snapped her fingers. "Hey! Is what you're doing to their chests in any way related what happened to me and Jocelyn? Answer me that, Sèzhītú!"
      The short man leaned back onto the desk, grinning for he found the Tennessee accent pronouncing his name quite enjoyable. "Oh, that was me all right, and from the looks of it the enlargement was definitely worth it!" The indignation on the women and husbands' faces, as well as the surprised looks on Brook, Katlyn and Carol's faces, was worth the years of waiting. "It was all for money. With taller girls to lead the way the high school teams drew in larger and larger crowds, increasing concessions sales as well as team shirts and other merchandise. Once in college the money from same increased dramatically. Now, when those girls compete on national teams the profits will be obscene. I have many irons in this fire, and I have a way to keep the gravy train running for decades to come."
      Katlyn shook her head. "Then what'ca going do with Belle and Syd, Sez-You?" If anything the pronunciation was the best that Katlyn could do, and did it ever sound so cute.
      "I'm in the middle of a project that will ensure a steady supply of tall female basketball players. However I stumbled into a rockblock that resists technical resolution. Only physical strength, cunning, and willpower will see the project to completion."
      Frank tried to stand up but a boiler-shaped robot shoved him back down. "You're forcing them against their will, threatening to harm us if they refuse, right?"
      Sèzhītú raised an eyebrow. "If it comes to that, then yes. I have every intention of setting you free once they succeed."
      Ramona's eyes widen not in surprise but in revelation. "Fancy talk from a man with a fake name! I just remembered. I looked it up for a lark years ago on the internet. It's actual one word, Hàosèzhītú, and it means 'dirty old man'."
       "You're lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut," said a supportive Jocelyn. "I'm not buying that voice of yours for a dime! You had a perfectly acceptable accented English voice at the Fat Panda. Why do you sound like Paul Frees?"
      The man addressed as Sez-You by Katlyn shrugged. "Oh, just for the cheap thrill of watching you and Ramona get all riled up and unable to do anything about it. Now I'm going to give you even more reason to be upset. In a few moments you will see Sydney and her friends fight... the Cyclops!"


10
Already having strides that left shorter-legged people in the dust the quartet of 15-foot-tall woman clad in tiger striped bikinis reached the tomb entrance in short order. The blocks had been replaced, and from the massive footprints, presumably from the Cyclops, it was done from the outside. Sydney looked around, expecting to see another speaker but found none. She was certain that Sèzhītú was watching and would want the girls to hear his voice. After all, getting the contents of this tomb appeared to very important to the man. "Well, I guess when we start removing the blocks then mister 'one-eye' will appear," she said, gauging the task before her.
     "Shouldn't we arm ourselves?" said Mara, still getting use to the fact that she was now over twice her normal size. From her perspective the trees and tomb entrance looked like scale models used in museum exhibits. "There's no telling what this Cyclops will do."
     Sue placed an affirming hand on Mara's shoulder. "Well, he'll be facing against four pissed-off women with an axe to grind. We can't get our hands on Sez-You yet, so this Cyclops will have to serve as practice."
     "I never fought before, not to mention a mythological creature. What if we have to..."
     "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Mara. Besides, with four mega-hotties to confront he just might surrender." Sue slapped Mara on her bikini-clad bottom. Immediately there was a sound like a plank of wood being subjected to great weight. Mara felt being pulled taunt, and looking at Sue proved that she was growing again. She expected the bikini to explode off her body, but the Cloth of the Titans lived up to Sèzhītú's word. After twenty seconds it was over, leaving Mara to look down past her bust at her three friends.
     Belinda whistled. "The last time I had to strain my neck like this was when I was a little girl. It looks like you gained an extra five feet."
     "I hope you don't get too much taller, Mara," said Sydney as she gazed critically at her now taller friend. "Your butt is the same but that Titan cloth is covering less of it, and you're starting to show some underboob."
     The Latina giantess ran her hands over her bust, massaging the exposed portion like melons at the market. "They grew a little faster than the rest of me, just like the last time. If a simple slap of on the butt caused me to grow then I dare not fight. I might end up over 100 feet tall."
     Belinda tapped Sydney on the shoulder and motioned to a cluster of trees behind Mara. "Then you better say behind us. Our one-eyed friend is here."
     Indeed the mythological creature was there, both in sight and smell. The girls' noses wrinkled at the foul odor borne by the wind, likening it to week-old laundry. Clasping a wicked-looking club the Cyclops appeared to be contemplating a course of action, solitary brow furled as it slowly edged its way to the left of the trees. "Oh, this is just like South Padre Island," said Sue. "I had some height freaks stalking me until I had my boyfriend scare them away."
     Belinda scratched her head. "Well, he's not acting scared. Maybe he thinks we're Titans?"
      "Too bad the only Greek I know is Gyro," Sydney said. "Maybe if we reason with him, there'll be no need to fight." At that the ginger girl began to whistle and gesture like she was summoning a pet dog. "Good boy, good boy. Lower the stick. Lower, lower the stick." Now it was the Cyclops' turn to be confused, turning his head one way and then another.
     "Ah, hell, Syd. He's not a dog," said an exasperated Mara. "I studied Greek mythology back in junior high school. If you're going to do that then I have something to try as well." With no preamble the Latina girl remove her bikini top, exposing her proud, brown breasts to the one-eyed creature.
     Sue made a facepalm. "This isn't some Girls Gone Wild video, Mara. You think flashing your tits is gonna work?"
     "Greek goddesses were actually depicted as topless, Sue. Same goes for the Titans. Look, our friend appears to be mesmerized." A quartet of eyebrows raised as the Cyclops brought his club down so that it touched the ground. It wasn't threatening, nor was is moving away. "Okay, now for the dunk shot. We gotta convince him he's in the presence of Titans. Sue, slap my butt."
     The ebon woman looked up at her friend. "What the hell for?"
     "I'm hoping that I'll get taller, and if Mr. Cyclops sees that he'll have to believe I'm his superior."
     "That's an awful lot of supposing, Mara."
     "What'da expect from this kind of situation. Hurry up and do it already."
     "Okay, but I promise not to enjoy it." At that Sue land a firm slap the exposed portion of Mara's backside. This time the sound likened to creaking lumber was more noticeable. As she towered more and more over her friends Mara saw how her breasts grew at a slightly faster pace, obscuring her view of her feet more and more. Then there was the heat, each bone and muscle might as well have been well-cooked ribs in Mara's opinion. When it stopped the top of Sue's head barely reached Mara's waist, making the Latina an easy 30' tall. As for the Cyclops this was more than enough to convince him that he was in the presence of a Titan. He prostrated in front of the girls.
     "Congratulations," said Sydney. "He's acknowledged your power, for all that's worth. Might as well give him a name."
     "Ooh, that's easy." Mara took a few strides towards the Cyclops, adjusting the seat of her bikini so that it wasn't giving her a killer wedgie. She pointed at the creature, acting like a Titan she strongly resembled. "I dub thee Uno."
     Belinda shook her head. "Thee? Who says 'thee' in this day and age?"




Back in the theater Jocelyn smiled and crossed her arms in well-deserved smugness. On the screen the visage of Sèzhītú was frowning at his audience. "How's them apples, Sez-You," said the proud mother. "You were expecting a fight, and now you'll have to get your jollies elsewhere."
      Sèzhītú stood up and walked around his desk. "I'm satisfied in any event, and more than pleased that one of the girls got even bigger. I'm sure your hubby liked the close-up my cameras provided."
      "I don't need what you're peddling, Sez-You," Frank accused. "I get more happiness watching my wife doing her exercises than a thousand pair of naked breasts any day." At that the man kissed Jocelyn on the cheek.
      "I suppose that's true, Mr. Kearns. You got a free breast smothering every night for the last 22 years. If only I was so fortunate."
      Ramona stood up from her seat quickly, making her 70" bust wobble for a moment under her track jacket. "You'll be fortunate if you're able to be buried in secret, Sez-You. What proof do you have that you can restore the girls to normal size, let alone feed them?"
      The little man leaned into the camera pickup so that his face filled the screen in the theater. "Oh, there's no need to worry. With the amount of Titan blood they consumed they're practically demi-goddess, so they won't starve. Mara had the right idea, and if the other girls are smart they better coax their bodies to get bigger. They're going to need every advantage they can get."
      "Why?" Jocelyn said condescendingly. "They tamed the Cyclops."
      Sèzhītú made a pompous dismissive gesture of the hand. "With their size and looks those four can make whole armies surrender, you court room jugglenaut. For thousands of years that island has remained mostly unknown to the world of men. Of the handful that lived after visiting the island, burden with knowledge that no-one would believe, it was now only verified with the latest in surveillance technology. The only reason why the temple had not fallen in the course of time was because it was maintained, and not by one Cyclops."
      "So there's more than one?" Jacob felt and took Ramona's hand into his.
      The little Chinese man smiled. "Those girls are about to be covered in one-eyed monsters like ugly on an ape."




"Boy, he sure is willing," Belinda admitted as the Cyclops dubbed Uno by Mara began removing blocks that covered the tomb entrance.
      "If only boys were so easily manipulated," Mara observed. She had her bikini top back on. While the fabric did indeed stretch she had a lot more boob showing, both above, below, and the sides. She was the epitome of a Tampa Bay Spring Break babe. "So you think we'll find actual remains of Titans in there? What if turns out to be a dud like Kim Kardashian's closet?"
      "Well, after the temple, this entrance and Uno here there's bound to be some relics at least," Sydney offered. "Just a few more blocks and we'll be inside."
      Mara ran her hands down her sides, from shoulder, bust, waist and thighs. "For you at least. I'm too big to get in there."
      A sound tickled Sue's ears. Finding the source the ebon woman deliberately tapped Sydney's shoulder. "It appears that Uno wasn't the only one on the island, Syd. That Sez-You bastard lied to us."
      The ginger giant saw no less than seven of the one-eyed monsters, armed with clubs and spears, coming up the path from the temple. From the grunts and gestures it appeared they were unhappy at what was happening. "Hey, Mara, you think you can win over these grunts like you did with Uno?"
      From Mara's perspective it was like looking at a group of costumed children coming home from trick-or-treating with nothing to show for it. She put her hands on her hips in a gesture of intimidation. "I had one hell of time getting this top back on, Syd. I'm not gonna flash'em my tits or get bigger." She flexed her arms like an exuberant contestant at a beachside gun show. The newcomers weren't impressed and continued to move closer.
      "Your pose is doing nothing for their disposition," Belinda observed. "Why not have Uno convince them to worship you?"
      "Good idea, Belle, but I don't speak Cyclops, remember? I might as well treat Uno like a dog." Looking down at Uno, Mara pointed at the cluster of mythological monsters. "Uno, make friends. Friends, make friends, Uno. Good boy."
      Sydney rolled her eyes. "And you gave me grief for exactly the same thing. Hypocrite."
      Hypocrite or not the ploy actually worked. Uno trundled to his companions and engaged in a conversation that could be compared to the sound of braying, intoxicated goats. From his gestures it was clear that Uno was trying to convince his fellows that Mara was a Titan. It went on for two minutes, and in the end Mara's advocate got his answer in the form of a spear impaled through his chest.
      "Well, dammit, looks like we have a fight on our hands after all," Sydney said, picking up a rock that was like a baseball in her hand.
      Sue raised her arms and shrugged her shoulders in an 'oh, well' gesture. "Poor Uno. He became part of of own little Greek tragedy."
      Mara swatted Sue on the head, half-expecting her friend to grow and disappointed that it didn't happen. "You shut up about Uno. He went to bat for us and got killed for it. I hope you won't be so flippant if it happened to your boyfriend."
      "Hey, don't bring boyfriends into this, Mara."
      Belinda also picked up a rock and cradled it like a pitcher about to strike out a batter at the bottom of the 9th in a tied game. "You two can hash it out later. We're about to have our own battle of the Titans."


11
The cyclopes rushed in like fathers playing football at a community picnic, weapons raised and yelling. Making their choices the Ginger Giants threw their stones in the fashion of the greatest baseball pitchers, each nailing an one-eye monster clean on the forehead. One beast threw his spear that was promptly caught by Sue, leveling the captured weapon against the charge. "Not one word about spear chucking, Mara," said the ebon woman.
     The towering Latina kept her eye on the Cyclops that killed Uno. "Where did that come from? All I said at the picnic was that you throw like a girl." Instead of a throwing a rock Mara tossed a block, the heavy cut of stone crushing the leg of one of the monsters. That left just four standing, one for each girl, and that was enough. To their joy the girls found they were way stronger than expected, knocking the beasts with an intensity that would make punching bags feel pain. What blows the beasts landed in return may as well have been made against stone walls of great depth, but were felt nonetheless. Mara grappled Uno's killer and held them up by his leg. From there she slammed him into the ground over and over, using his body like a cudgel to kill imaginary bugs. When the two Cyclopes nailed by the Ginger Giants got back on their feet Mara circled her captive foe over her head and let go, knocking the duo back onto the ground. Only then did she see that there was a leg still in her hand.
     "You really Hulked that guy," said Belinda, slapping her opponent across the face with such force that blood and teeth flew from his mouth. "Now you're a leg up!"
     "Don't I know it!" What Belinda started Mara finished, bringing the severed appendage straight down like a hammer on the beast's head.


While the families watched the now decidedly gory fight on the high-definition screen Mr.Sèzhītú broke over the speakers in a chuckle. "Ah, I see that those self-defense classes for your girls have paid off, Jocelyn and Ramona. But isn't it a sad thing that they're so ready to kill?"
     "You're the one that put them in that situation, Sez-You," said a condemning Jocelyn. "I won't blame them if they smear you across the floor."
     "There are other perils in store if I am of the mind to invoke them," was the comeback from Sèzhītú. "Perhaps your son and Ramona's younger daughters would like to... Where is he?" After a moment in which everyone imagined the little Chinese man frantically checking his screens the voice came back over the speakers. "UR2, where is the boy?"
     In the back of the room the boiler-like robot shuffled to attention. "Sir, I had a system error and had to reboot. The image of the boy was in that portion of my cache left intact."
     "Fool! You should've acted faster. For that I will fine you a week's salary."
     "Sir, I'm a robot. Robots don't get paid," replied UR2.
     "Then I will pay you in order to fine you. You stay there, UR2. The other robots will hunt for the boy." Abruptly the imagine of the little man filled  the screen. "For that act of insolence the boy will be taken to the island. Not only will he have to avoid monsters but also from being crushed underfoot by the girls."
     Ramona harrumphed. "Never make idle threats to ladies, Sez-You."




Gruesome and decisive, the fight hurried to its conclusion. The last Cyclops made a run for it, but a stone block hurled like a full court shot by Mara squashed the fleeing one-eye that only a road kill squirrel could match. "So much for them," said Sydney as she inspected the collection of bruises on her arms and legs. "I hope there's no giant scorpions waiting for us in that tomb."
      Sue shivered. "Scorpions? Count me out. There's no away I'm going into a confined area with scorpions."
      "You can count out Mara as well," said Belinda, gazing up at her friend. "She is too tall already, and now it's doubly true."
      "What? I grew again?" Mara glanced around and did a double-step backwards in order to see her now comparatively shorter friends. Her hands caressed that mighty mass of breast flesh not contained by the bikini top. "My boobies grew faster than the rest of me. How tall am I now?"
      Belinda knocked on Mara's kneecap like a maple sap collector inspecting a tree. "You're easily 40' tall if not a little bit more. I don't know how that magical cloth is holding out, but you're showing way more underboob, not to mention the sides and top. You're giving my mom some competition in the comparative size department. Plus your bikini bottom is becoming more of a thong."
      Sydney whistled. "You must've gotten the double dose bottle, Mara. If you keep on getting bigger you won't be able to see past your boobs."
      "I'll be covering the entire island at that point," Mara admitted, still amazed that the tiger-striped fabric hadn't torn at the top or bottom. "I'm too big and Sue's afraid of bugs. That leaves you and Belinda to go inside."
      "Wish us luck, Mara. Be ready to step on any scorpions that come running out after us."
      The ebony Sue made a crabapple face. "You just had to say that, you meanie."
      What few blocks that remained were cleared away by the Ginger Giants. With trepidation they stepped inside and instead of finding darkness they were greated by a soft blue glow that came from the walls and the Greek-style columns. A smooth marble floor was felt beneath their feet, and there, in the center of what was a claustrophobic sized room for the girls, were six caskets. Each was easily as long as Mara was tall, adorned with ancient Greek script and decorative flourishes. "I was expecting something more grand, like a scene from a movie," said Sydney as she rapped her knuckles on the top of one casket. It felt like the depth of a mountain to her touch. "Even with the pillars this place reminds me of a Store-n-Go."
      Belinda sized up one of the caskets. "I think they blew there budget building that temple replica, Syd." With both hands she pushed hard and found that the stone construct moved appreciably. "Feels kinda light. I wonder if there's anything in there?"
      "We'll open them outside, Belle. The last thing we need is for some Titan-sized mummy to go crazy apeshit in this confined space."




Like the proverbial mouse that was just a fast moving blur Brook went down the hallway, stopping at every intersection and sneaking a peek around the corner. He counted himself lucky for taking the seat next to the aisle, for only he noticed when UR2 powered down. Impulse compelled him to sneak away, and he wondered if his mom approved of his action. Well, she would certainly approve if Brook found a way to call for help or otherwise frustrate that Sez-You character. Down the hall he heard footsteps, and he pressed himself flat against a wall. It was the sound of metal falling onto metal, a sound only made by those silly-looking walking boiler robots.  Brook inched away from the corner and into the shadows, then found himself falling backwards as the wall behind him split open. He landed on his backside and witnessed the wall closed up before him. Brushing himself off he investigated his new surroundings.
      Whatever the place was, Brook  told himself, it looked like someone looted artifacts of interior decoration from decades past. There were curvy, multi-fixture light stands, glass and steel display cases, an absolutely ancient radio and record player that had to have come from the 1930s, and art that looked so tacky that even 5-year-olds could do better. Seriously, an odd-colored painting of a can of food wasn't art in Brook's opinion. While looking at the books in one case he heard indistinct voices coming from a door on the far side of the room. He moved towards it, clearly hearing that one voice was that of a woman and the other a man. It was the accented voice of the man that made Brook carefully open the door and peek. What he saw was a bedroom with thick white carpeting and a bed that appeared to be round, covered in red satin sheets and pink pillows. Brook's eyes nearly bugged up when he saw a woman with a head full of golden-colored hair and breasts that were easily as big as Jocelyn's straddle a prone man on the bed. The woman had panty on and nothing else, and the man was at 'full attention' as the innuendo went. Brook wondered if this was what the phrase 'bumping uglies' came from, from even here the man didn't look all that handsome.
      "You old dog," said the woman. "As much as that little animated mummy could offer me you're way more accessible and..." she slapped the old man's solider with her overly pneumatic bumps, "presentable in public."
      "Now that I have secretly synthesized the growth formula we'll no longer have to depend on that finite supply of Titan bones," purred the old man as his member disappeared into the woman's cleavage like a train going into a tunnel. "We'll make billions and that little fool will be out of the way."
      "He'll be awfully pissed. Are you sure the robots will be under your control?"
      "Don't worry. I transmitted the new command overrides earlier. By the time were done here," the man glommed his hands onto the woman's overly ample bosom, pressed them together so as to completely enclose his member inbetween the bountiful breast flesh, "we'll give that little man a cement suit and feed him to the fishes."
      The woman clearly expressed her ecstasy, making the peeking Brook cover his ears in haste. After licking her lips she looked down at her partner. "So you're not going to use any of the Titan bones? What about those four girls on the island?"
      "Well, if they live they'll spoil our plans, won't they? No, they'll die on that island, either by that other monster there, starvation or getting so big that their hearts will fail. That's what usually happens when people get too tall, magically enabled or not. Their families will disappear in the depths of the Pacific. No witnesses."
      A mental snap went off in Brook's head. He finally recognized the voice as a belonging to Dr. Arnim, the one that treated his sister Sydney and her friend Belinda with growth drugs when they were little. It wasn't much of a stretch to suppose that Arnim was involved in giving the girls those additional growth spurts over the years. Wouldn't mom be surprised and pissed! Having heard the word island it was likely the families were being held on a ship, and that meant there had to be a radio. Brook's father had a hobby in short-wave radios, and the boy was confident he could transmit an SOS if he could get to said radio. Before sneaking away, though, he had to take one last look. The woman had gotten up and removed her panty, throwing herself back down on the older man so that her now decidedly breasts-that-were-bigger-than-mom's engulfed his face. Brook could only wonder if this was how his parents 'bump uglies' when the kids weren't in the house.


12
The six caskets were out of the tomb and arranged in a row under the midday sun. Sydney and Belinda took the initiative and opened one, being treated to the sight of Sue hiding behind the taller Mara like a girl at the first day of kindergarten. At first the lid didn't  budget but with an application of effort it protested with the sound of stone rubbing against stone, finally coming off. No bolts of lightning, nor hideous beasts and spirits erupted from the casket save for a foul smell that left eyes watering and nosing wrinkling. "Well, there's something in there to go along with that smell," said Belle in a nose-pinched voice.
     Also holding her nose Sydney looked in and saw a cloth-draped mummified husk of a Titan that was at least 35' tall. It looked like a prop from a movie set to her, and as she tentatively touched the skull, with Sue cringing on her behalf, it collapsed into a pile of powder. "It felt real enough. So that Sez-You guy used the powder from this to make his growth drug?"
     "We'd been given powered mummy? Gross!" said Mara, her bikini top heaving with righteous indignation.
     "A bit inaccurate but correct," came the loud voice of Mr.Sèzhītú from out of nowhere. Quickly it was found that the source came from a basketball-sized helicopter drone equipped with speaker, hovering over the caskets some 50' up. "Thanks to you I'm now in possession of the last known source of Titan remains."
     Sydney placed her foot on the back end of an unopened casket, looking up at the flying spy. "Can we expect to see you in person to collect your goods, Sez-You?"
     "Do you expect to see your families again? You'll just have to settle for my voice, girls. I'm sending a remotely piloted helicopter over to pick up the goods. You will now open the rest of the caskets for inspection. I heard and saw what you did, and I appreciate no surprises."
     "Goes double for you, Sez-You," sneered Mara. "Keep your word or else I might get upset and get even bigger and swat down that helicopter of yours."
     The Chinese man's voice chuckled. "It may come down to that, you towering Latina. You see, I have even more insurance. Not only do I have Sydney and Belinda's families but also some people near and dear to there hearts." Another chuckle followed. "I'm looking at the pictures in the lockets I took from the Ginger Giants as they were unconscious. Be good and I may send them over on the last helicopter trip."
     Belinda stomped the ground, raising a cloud of dust. "You kidnapped Leon and Randolph? Let us talk to them you bastard!"
     "I can't do that just yet, but they're on the island. After I have all the caskets you can go save them, and for that you may want to get bigger. The beastie that's guarding them is a whooper."
     Hands made into fists and slightly trembling Sydney, understandably upset, felt herself grow, accompanied by the unnatural low sound of creaking wood. The bikini stretched and felt slightly tighter across the chest, confirming that her bust was growing faster than the rest of her. This time a feeling of heat and the sensation of fire filled her frame, like a furnace engorged with fresh fuel. Joining her was Belinda, feeling the same way as her friend upon hearing of the fate of her boyfriend. When it stopped both the red heads were now half the height of the four-story tall Mara.
     "Oh my God!" exclaimed Sue. "You two are the embodiment of busty sex goddesses for every man on the planet for the rest of time! Your boobs are so big that I can't see your belly buttons anymore."
     "That skin looks flawless too," Mara added. "Look at the shine coming off those globes. Girls, you two are now easily as busty as your mothers, if you were 'normal' sized, of course."
      Sèzhītú laughed. "It's just as well they got bigger. It'll make to easier to load the helicopter. Now, open the caskets."
     "I swear, Sez-You," said Sydney as her hands involuntarily moved over her exposed portion of breasts, "if I get my hands on you I'll shove you in one of these caskets and throw you into the ocean."
     "If you get more upset and grow bigger I doubt you'll be able to see the ocean in front of you, Sydney."




With the sound of clanking robot feet ever present in the corridors Brook moved as quickly as he dared, trying doors and peeking into rooms as he went. Reaching a metal frame stairway that reached an opening in the ceiling Brook flipped a mental coin and went up. There he found himself on the deck of what was clearly a big ship. Sea air assailed his sense of smell and the sound of the ocean lapping into his ears. Quickly looking around he found no robots but something quite different. It was a big tandem rotor helicopter, sitting on a pad at the rear of the ship. From his position Brook saw that its cargo door was open.
      Helicopters have radios, Brook thought to himself. If it has a GPS with an emergency transmitter that'll be even better. The boy made his way to the copter, only glancing at the island in the distance, but thinking of his now very tall sister and her friends. If she's that big, then maybe mom and dad will let me have her room. After all, I'm a growing boy too, after a fashion. Slipping inside, Brook worked his way up to the cockpit and was rewarded with a plethora of instrument gauges and panels. "Well," he said to himself, "if in doubt, read the manual. That's what dad said."
      While looking for some form of documentation that would tell him from this and that the panels began to light up one by one.


In the control room Sèzhītú regarded his main screen. Divided into four parts, one section showed the giant girls on the island, another the families in the theater, the helipad, and a rotation of security camera shots. With him was Albert, dressed in the same style as his boss and sitting at a control panel. Arnim and Stacey were there as well, looking more pleased that usual, a sign the little man took as impending fulfillment of their dreams of avarice. "With four caskets full of Titan remains we'll never be in want of money ever again, Arnim," said the short man. "Are you still going to buy that bathtub made of gold?"
      The corrupt doctor swirled the drink in his hand and took a sip. "With the money that'll come in from this, Sèzhītú, I'll get two bathtubs. What those two caskets full of weapons? They'll make fine decorations in one of your lairs."
      "As if I need giant swords to boast of my sexual potency," Sèzhītú snorted. "I have far more unique treasures than mere giant swords."
      "Mere swords?" Stacey said. "They could only have been made by Hephaestus, the god of craftsmen among other things. Why, those swords could have magical properties to whoever wields them."
      Sèzhītú scratched his chin. "I suppose you have a point. We'll pick them up last, if only to make sure those girls don't use them against use. However, I already have my own 'magic sword' that I wield effectively." He gave Stacey a lecherous schoolboy look. "Would you like to see it demonstrated first-hand again, my dear, after dinner tonight?"
      The most pneumatic Stacey played her finger along her foot-long exposed section of cleavage. "I'd be delighted. You provide the steak and I'll provide the sizzle."
      "Helicopter ready to depart, Sir," said Albert from the control panel.
      "Proceed. We'll try to make this in three trips. Have the robots stand by the helipad to receive the first load."
      "Understood."
      Arnim got his mobile phone from his suit pocket and started the browser. "I might as well check my investments in the market while we wait. People world-wide will be buying anything that has the Ginger Giants name plastered on it."
      "You'll make a tidy sum, my friend," boasted Sèzhītú. "More than enough to buy that house in the Austrian Alps."
      If only you knew, thought Arnim as he brought up a most secret program on his phone. Tapping the screen twice he then went back to browsing. I'll be making a princely sum instead.


Brook kept his cool as he heard the helicopter's twin rotors fire to life and the cargo door close of its own volition. He found the manual behind the pilot's seat and began to skim  through it even as the copter rose up ponderously and flew towards the island like a lead-cast bumblebee. The control panel looked as intimidating as before, but now Brook had an inkling of what was what. A set of controls caught his eye. Following the manual, Brook engaged the emergency transponder/GPS system. If the signal stayed on for a few minutes then those people listening would know that it wasn't an accident and investigate. Still the same the boy tried to puzzle out the radio, going as far as putting the headset on, while a small camera focused in on him.


"There's the missing Kearns boy, Big," said Albert, using his boss' real name. "He's trying to send a signal, but I'm blocking his transmissions."
      The disguised little man smiled. On the screen the boy looked like he was in a simulator at some aerospace museum. All that was missing was the cheesy smile for the camera. "Ah, such initiative for a male Wilcox descendent. Have the robots waiting at the helipad when he returns. In a way it's good that he's in there. Extra insurance in case the girls try to be cute and bring down the copter."
      Albert adjust the screen image so that it showed the four giant girls and the caskets from the helicopter's perspective. "Ready to lower the sling for securing the cargo."
      "Excellent. Patch me to the copter's PA." Seeing the two red heads, the ebon and latina women looking up at the copter reminded the man of his time masquerading as a late '70s rock star. He sure did miss having bras, panties, and room keys being thrown on stage. He took the microphone offered by Albert, and spoke in his Paul Frees voice. "You will now secure the first two caskets to the slings the copter will be lowering. If you do not comply then its involuntary passenger will be dealt with most severely. Brook, say some words to your sister."
      "Sorry, Syd," said the resigned Brook. "I tried to find a way to access a radio, and this was the best option at the time."
      On the screen the image of Sydney looked indignant, fisted hands on her hips. "You seem to enjoy putting people in peril, Sez-You. Is that the only way you get people to work for you?"
     "Oh, there's bribery, but your particular lineage won't cotton to it. You and your friends could do with the money, however. Perhaps you four should stay at your size and hire yourselves out as eco-friendly construction workers. That's a more honest and respectable living than being basketball stars anyway."
      What followed was invective that was only heard in the control room, but Brook heard it in the copter, even above the sound of the rotor blades. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Sydney Kearns? I suppose your boyfriend Randolph doesn't mind, having talked dirty to him back at the basketball camp in Minnesota. Yes, I've seen and heard what you did there, all four of you." Big had Albert turn the audio back on in the theater. "Well, Kearns and Baines families, aren't you going to congratulate me on my impending domination of the sports world for decades to come?"
      "Grave desecration is the least of your worries, Sez-You," said Ramona over the control room speakers. "You may have killed the sound but it was clear you said something that made Sydney upset just now. Made another juvenile threat?"
     "If you call having Jocelyn's son in the copter as a hostage to the girls' good behavior juvenile then even I would like to know what you consider serious," chided the disguised man. "Now watch as the first batch of my fortune is loaded and brought to me."
      The girls secured two of the caskets to the lowered slings, making the knots extra tight and complicated just for the satisfaction of making Sez-You a little bit irritated. With tandem rotors at full power the copter lifted its priceless cargo up and up, gaining enough altitude to clear the trees and hills on its return trip to the ship. Watching the progress in the control room Arnim played the part of a happy man about to get even happier. Thus no-one save Stacey saw him tap the screen on his cell phone just as the copter made its turn towards the ocean. A red light flared on Albert's control panel, painfully telling him that the copter, somehow, released its load and shot up into the air 100 feet before regaining control. Like a load of bricks the two caskets came crashing to earth, sending the girls down to the ground, covering their heads. Both stone coffins broke into hundreds of pieces, spewing a cloud of dust that engulfed them thanks to the copter's downwash.
      "What went wrong?" Big demanded, shoving Albert aside so as to see the control panel for himself. "That wasn't supposed to happen!"
      Albert shook his head. "The latches could only be disengaged manually, Big. We both saw to it in person. The only way they could be release was if..." The sensation of a gun barrel poking him in the back made Albert stop. Arnim was responsible, and assisting him was Stacey, pointing a gun of her own at Big's head.
      "...explosive bolts were attached after your inspection," Arnim finished. "I'm taking over, Big. Or is it Sèzhītú, or even Clifford Biggen? It doesn't matter."
     "Why are you doing this?" Big asked, still using the voice of his Sèzhītú persona. "You would've been rich just the same."
      Arnim's eyes lit up with the fervor of a true believer. "I have more ambition than just making tall athletes and getting rich from merchandizing sales, Big. Thanks to your money, and my research you so generously provided for, I have a way to make the human race larger without having to resort to a finite supply of mythological remains. There will be giants again upon the surface of the Earth, and I shall be their creator!"
      Big rolled his eyes. "Just my luck to have someone whose's grandfather was a member of the Thule Occult Society. I thought you were past such things, Arnim. Shame on you."
      "Shame? I have nothing by pride! Robots!" With face fixed with victory Arnim stepped back and allowed the two boiler-shaped robots that had been in the background to come forward and secure Big and Albert. "Place them in separate cells in the brig. Once the copter returns take the boy inside and put him in the brig as well."
      "Affirmative," said one of the boiler-shaped robots, handling Big roughly on the way to the door.
      Arnim waved a finger at Big's retreating, displeased face. "They obey only me, Big, and you're going to stay in the brig until I dispose of you and the other guests properly."
      Big chuckled. "Well, I give you points on being prepared. But now your guests are aware of your treachery. You see, the mic was still on."
     "Son of a bitch!"




"Everybody okay?" Belinda said as she stood up, brushing dirt and dust from her body.
      "We were nearly brained by those caskets." Like her friend Sydney also went about to remove the worst of the dust from her body.
      "I hope that Sez-You guy doesn't blame it on us," Mara commented, blowing the grit from her arms.
      Sue looked in the direction of the retreating helicopter, and then inspected the wreckage of the two caskets. "Strange that he didn't chew us out. He lost a fortune in Titan bones. Look, they've must've turned to powder when the hit the ground. I don't see a skull or so much as a bone. Weird."
      "I think this dust is powdered bone, Sue," admitted Sydney. "That first skull certainly powered when I touched it. First order of business is to find a stream and wash."
      It was Belinda that felt it first, being the closest when the caskets fell. A feeling of numbness like low-level current filled her body followed by growth. Instead of protesting lumber it now was like straining lines of rope that filled her ears. "Damn, that dust might as well be magical crack! I'm growing like gangbusters!"
      "Me too!" Sydney yelp as she felt and saw herself grow. Her bikini top was yielding more and more boob flesh with each passing second as she piled on the height. "I fell like I'm in a taffy pulling machine!"
      Also alarmed by her rapid growth Sue wondered if her Titan-cloth bikini top would persevere in corralling her ebon melons. "Forget about a stream, we need to jump in the ocean! I don't want to be a mile-high giant!"
      "I can see the ocean from here!" yelled Mara, already 60' tall and still gaining in height as well as bust. "Follow me!"
      In retrospect it was a great shame that the man primarily responsible for their predicament was nowhere near a monitor to see what was happening. However their families, save for the still-airborne Brook, were watching from the theater: amazed, concerned, and involuntarily enthralled at what they were witnessing. With increasing strides and foot falls impacting with greater urgency the four girls ran for the cleansing relief of the ocean. Just short of the water the bikini tops finally lost their grasp on their ever-growing charges and fell away like ripped packing paper, breasts wobbling and jostling in their new-found freedom. They dove in the water, hands wiping down every exposed portion of their bodies to rid themselves of the dust. Once sure they were free of the Titan dust the girls got out of the water, feet sinking into the sand of a now decidedly tiny beach.
      "I'm going to hazard a guess," said Belinda, eying herself and her friends in turn. "Using our boob size and amount of exposed butt our now even smaller bikini bottoms are showing, I'd say me, Syd and Sue are at least 60' tall if not 70'."
      Sydney marveled at the size of her breasts as well as those of Belle and Sue. From what she knew of her mom and Ms. Baines, sporting 70" busts, Syd figured she and her two friends were owners of scaled-up 100" wonders. That left the matter of Mara, however.
      The Latina basketball wizard couldn't see the ground directly in front of her, even with her hands trying to part her breasts to make room, so she had look over to one side to look down at her much smaller friends. "I'm easily twice as tall as you three, is that right?"
     Belinda held out her thumb and squinted like she was gauging the sun. "I'd say 120 feet, and girl if you get so much as 30 more feet that bikini bottom is gonna snap just like the top. You can smother the opposing team with those beachballs."
      "I'm going smother that Sez-You bastard once I rip open that boat and yank him out like the rat he is."
      "We can't do that yet, Mara. He's still holding my and Syd's family hostage. However we do have the last two caskets of Titan remains. We'll force Sez-You to release the families first before handing the caskets over, and we'll rescue Randolph and Leon so he won't have them as additional bargaining chips."
     "How are we gonna find them?"
       Belinda looked back towards the interior of the island, unable the shake the surreal feeling that she was on a miniature set on some old monster movie instead of being an actual giantess. "Sez-You said the boys were being guarded by a whooper of a beastie. With the four of us on the court that beastie has to be really big to be a challenge to us."


13
The brig was located next to the ship's food freezers, and being industrial strength units the excessive cold made its presence felt. Albert thanked the pair of gloves he wore while going through his cell like a D.I. during inspection while the little man known as Big was ripping up a mattress in his iron bar-lined room. Sharing the cell with Big was Jocelyn's son Brook. Not exactly decked out for the cold, the boy rubbed his arms to maintain the pretense of keeping warm. "What'ca doing you old coot? Getting prison flashbacks from the 1930s when you ran moonshine?"
     "What a remarkable wit you have for a boy in this day and age," Big shot back even as he worked on the mattress, still using his fake voice. "How do you know anything that happened nearly a century ago?"
     "My mom has a big collection of crime movies back at home. Judging from your face I'd say you stole milk from doorsteps and apples from street vendors when you were a kid."
     Big stopped his work and turned to the boy, a flash of vindictiveness in his eyes. "You'd  be surprised at what I've stolen over the years, boy, and taking the innocence of young women ranks up there with robbing the Kremlin and the Tower of London. The only work your sister and her friends will get is having men climb their bodies and plant themselves on their mountain sized tits."
     "Just the load of crap I'd expect from a canned fart like you," Brook spat back. "Like all criminals you're an inveterate liar."
     Big laughed and broke down into a hacking cough. Recovered, he glared at the boy. "Ah, there's your mother's influence. If there was time I would show you the proof of my successes. As for Sydney she'll make more money as a living pair of boob mountains that she ever could in ten lifetimes as a basketball player." He held up the object of his mattress raiding, a key. "Once I'm out of here I'll make Arnim pay for his treachery and make good on my losses."
     "Well, you can start by replacing these!" At that Brook landed a powerful kick to Big's crotch, sending the man down like a tackling dummy. With righteous fists Brook wailed on Big's face, getting a surprise as that face seemed to shift like a glove on a loose hand. Gripping the hair he pulled off what turned out to be a full head mask, showing the man's true visage underneath. "God damn, no wonder you cover up! You got the worst case of the old'n'uglies I've ever seen." Grabbing the key, Brook got out of the cell and locked it behind him. He looked at the still-imprisoned Albert. "Don't you think of coming after me or my family, or I'll sic Sydney on you. Want to become a smear on the floor?"
     "I can't promise anything. You better get going, Mr. Kearns." Albert waited until Brook was out of earshot, then spoke to his boss. "Big, I'll find my hidden key soon."
     Big, normally unfazed by punches, was still woozy thank to the kick to the jimmies. "In my life that was the first instance my ass was handed to me by an 11-year-old boy. I should pay more attention to Wilcox and Parlor men in the future."


Back on the island the girls armed themselves with spears and swords from the two weapon-filled caskets and began their search. Mara, being easily twice the height of the others, had no weapons for they were too small to wield effectively, trusting that there would be rocks and boulders on hand to toss. However, being taller meant she saw the beast first, crouching down to pass the word. She then lifted them up one by one so they had a good look. "Thanks to my knowledge of Greek mythology I know that the monster is a Hydra," she said with scholarship.
     "Hydra? Isn't that the one with multiple heads?" Sue said, gripping the dual swords she held.
     "Yeah. If you cut one head off two more grow in its place. It's guarding what look likes a cave with a gate made of metal bars."
     Belinda scratched her chin, a habit she picked up when she watched her mother going over case notes. "We don't have fire to burn the stumps so the heads don't grow back. We'll have to stab it in the heart to kill it."
     Sue shook her head. "Stab it in the heart? We're talking about a mythical monster here. Now, if my pet doxie was giant sized he could shake that monster to death." The ebon woman made thrusting motions with her sword and spear, arms impacting her ample breast mass like doors closing on a cart full of pillows. "With our boobs so big just swinging will be a chore."
     Sydney snapped her fingers. "You're on to something, Sue. When you think about it, what's so special about having two heads grow back after you cut off one. What if you keep cutting heads? I mean, that thing's heart could only handle so much before failing."
     "Using it's one ability against itself. Nice thinking, Syd," said Belinda, putting her hand on her friend's shoulder. "If that thing breathes fire we'll have to keep it distracted. Mara, you think you can find some big-ass rocks to toss at the Hydra?"
     "No problem, Belle. I can sink a half-court shot like nobody's business."


In the control room Arnim and Stacey watched the impending spectacle of the giant girls verses the Hydra. Four drones kept vigil, video and audio being recorded for Arnim's future enjoyment. As for Stacey she had other ideas. "Hey, Arnie," she pouted, using her pet name for him, "why don't you just go ahead and drop off our unwanted passengers and leave? Like you said, we don't need the Titan bones anymore, and we have no further use of the families since they know who you are."
     "The robots are preparing a boat as we speak, my wonderful set of mega muffins." Arnim lazily pawed Stacey's voluminous blouse-covered breasts with his left hand while his right adjusted the zoom of one of the drone's cameras. "With the girls' unpredictable growth they'll get to such a size that they'll pass on of their own accord. With the remoteness of this island, and the host of diseases it holds, the families will follow shortly. No witnesses, and as far as anyone will know it was "Sèzhītú" fault. Once the battle with the Hydra is over we'll put our unneeded guests ashore and go."
     Just as the man finished an alarm filled the room with its urgent, harsh sound. Monitors reverted to shipboard displays, informing Arnim what was happening. "A general fire alarm?!" he said incredulously. "The robots wouldn't use that for a shipboard fire." A camera shot of the theatre showed that the families where still there, while the brig was still occupied, save for one missing Brook Kearns. "Damn! A person manually activating a fire alarm will cause it to sound off, and if that happens..."


In the ship's theatre the families watched events unfolding on the island. All were still coming to grips on just how much larger the girls had gotten, not to mention just how they were going to fight with movement impeding boobs against the beast. They were denied the speculation when startled not only by the fire alarm but by the appearance of the robots UR2 and IM0, arms failing in a manner befitting their comical appearance. "Please remain calm. There is a fire alarm in progress," UR2 said in a solid tone of obviousness. "All passengers are to get on deck and assemble at the life boat. Follow the red arrows on the walls."
     "I have a hunch," Jocelyn whispered into Frank's ear as the families stood up. "Once we're out in the hall I'll make my move."
     "You gonna fight a robot? Be serious," said Frank. "At best you might knock him with your headlights. Let me do it. If I can worry the boiler back home then I can handle a walking one."
     Jocelyn gave her friend Ramona a quick glance and a wink, then turned back to Frank. "With your record of fixing machines you'll need a big handicap, hubby. Just be ready to assist."
     Preceded by IM0, the Baines family went first, followed by Frank and Jocelyn. Just inside the hall the Kearns woman turned and embraced UR2 in a bearhug fit for a stout uncle. That UR2 wasn't stout as it wasn't an uncle was proven as it crumpled like a tin can in Jocelyn's embrace, shorting out and emitting a wailing electronic death hack. It fell to the floor, showing the two huge indentations made by the Kearns woman's breasts for all to see. Ramona, being equally endowed, had done the same to IM0 but from the back. "Those things didn't have much in the way of innards," said Ramona. "It felt like one of those hugging pillows we had back in collage."
     Jocelyn raised an eyebrow. "Hugging pillows? Don't even compare Frank and Jacob to those tin cans. They never busted a gut when we embraced them." The sound of footfalls stopped further conversation, making everyone press up against the wall with Jocelyn looking around the corner. What came around was none other than Brook, getting a far gentler embrace from his mother. "What sort of mischief have you gotten into, sonny?"
     "Tried to find a radio, but I got stuck in the helicopter then thrown into a cell with that Sez-You guy." Brook held out the mask he had with him. "I beat the crap out of that guy and took this off his face. It's like one of those Scooby Doo masks from TV."
     "Scooby Doo mask?" Jocelyn inspected the fake visage before handing it off to Ramona. "I swear I heard of a case that involved such a mask."
     "We can figure that out later," said Jacob. "Either we're getting off this boat or taking it over."
     "Sending an S.O.S. is the best idea," Frank offered, patting Brook on the back in a paternal manner.
     Ramona wasn't convinced. "What about those robots? Me and Jocelyn can only hug crush if we get the chance."
     "If the robots are responding to this fire alarm then looking for us won't be a priority," Jacob pointed out. "We can seize the radio room and send our message."
     Frank turned to Brook. "That was fine bit of thinking, son, setting off the fire alarm."
     "I want to take credit, dad, but it wasn't me. Perhaps that Sez-You guy found a way to get out of his cell after all."




All things considered, Randolph and Leon wanted to feel they were part of some elaborate reality show prank. The huge multi-headed monster outside of the cave told otherwise. Just a day earlier they were in Honolulu, waiting for their gold metal adorned girlfriends and families to arrive from Guam. Then, like a bad '70s TV movie, a gaggle of black-clad men ambushed them in their hotel room and rendered them unconscious. The next thing they knew was waking up in a cave, the entrance blocked by an iron bar gate and with a monster just outside. Randolph, after exploring that portion of the cave he could access, joined Leon at the gate. "Still nothing. No food, water, or radio. This flashlight is already running low on juice. Whatever they have plan for us will happen very soon."
      "Just what is that plan?" Leon grated. "It better not be those Venezuelans wanting revenge. Who else really hates Belle and Syd that much that they'll involve us in their plans?"
      A low, seismic thumping was felt by both men under their feet. It grew stronger, and the beast took notice too, turning its multiple heads towards something that was out of sight. Not for long, and at first glance the men didn't believe their eyes. It appeared to be Mara, giant in size and with a colossal bust that went down to her waist. She was naked save for a clearly stretched tiger striped bikini bottom. Slackjawed at the sight of the latina's jostling boobs Randolph and Leon were nearly floor when they sighted the ebon Sue and the Ginger Giants, Sydney and Belinda. Those three were only half as tall as the brown-skinned Mara but were just as proportionally buxom. Relief and lust filled the men, happy as they were seeing their respective women and just how wondrously beautiful they had become. As tempted as they were wanting to believe it was an illusion there was no mistaking the reality of it for the four giant women raised clouds of dusts with their footfalls. Moreover, seeing the weapons further reinforced the truth told by the men's eyes.
      Mara struck first, throwing a boulder that was like a basketball in proportion to her titanic size. It land squarely in the center of the beast, making it squeal from all of its heads. Syd and Belle struck, chopping of multiple heads in their sword strikes with Sue shoving a spear deep in the flank of the beast. Enraged, the beast struck back, biting and swiping and breathing fire with the men cringing as the girls took the hits. Despite the wounds and blood the girls continued to attack. The beast was growing two heads for each one that was cut off, and the only reason it wasn't making more hits was due to Mara's boulder bombardment. Each impact by a lump of rock made the beast wail in pain with Syd, Belle and Sue taking advantage, decapitating in a manner that made a guillotine look like a piker.
      The men had wondered what the girls had planned, and after five minutes they got their answer. Far from becoming more dangerous with more heads the beast had become so weighed down with heads that it was lethargic. Slow to react and even slower on the attack the beast couldn't defend itself in time as Mara, somehow looking even taller and more buxom, carried a huge boulder over her head. She tossed it like she was at the free throw line and it sank perfectly, hitting the beast squarely on the back. Blood vomited out of all 120 heads with the beast looking visibly deflated. Never to let a job go unfinished the girls cut off the heads one last time with Mara pushing down on the boulder until snapping sounds and visible splits of the beast's skin were seen.
      "Stick a fork in it, we're done," said Sue as she wiped away sweat and blood from her brow. "It must be adrenaline, for I don't feel a thing."
      Belle inspected her body and looked at her friends. "It must be the Titan blood's doing. Our wounds are rapidly healing, and even the blood is fading away."
      "Yeah," Syd commented, looking at one particular wound on her left breast sustained in the battle. "This one's almost healed, and that burn mark on Mara's butt is going away."
      "And such a fine butt too," Sue said, patting her towering latina friend's knee. "You'll be a hit on a south seas beach, Mara. It looks like were all grew bigger in the fight, and in the process you lost your bikini bottom."
      Mara didn't bother a look to check for herself for she did feel the magical Titan cloth snap off her body just moments earlier. She did relish in the fact that she was now the largest, most buxom women in the world. Her magically enhanced mammaries wobbled when she put her hands on her hips. "You three aren't so bad either. Looks like you got the thongs you always wanted, Syd and Belle. Now why don't you rescue your boy toys from that cave?"
      "Damn, nearly forgot!" Syd, after giving her hair and face a quick promise bent down as best as her bust would allow at the cave entrance. The iron gate proved no obstacle, and once removed Randolph and Leon emerged into a world where the sun was blocked out by Syd's three towering friends. "I have saved my ebon prince from the foul Hydra," the green-eyed red head said with deep affection. "Now what are you going to do about a reward?"
      "Pick us up and I'll show you!" shouted Randolph. Stepping into Syd's offered hand the men felt the rush as Syd stood up to her full height. They guessed they were 80 feet above the ground and level with the top of Syd's breasts. Belle fetched Leon from the open palm and wasted no time in kissing, Leon grabbing armfuls of giant girlfriend lips to secure his perch. Likewise Randolph made his feelings know by lavishing Syd's goddess-perfect face with kisses of his own.
      "So what are we going to do now?" said Sue as she checked what little stretch her Titan-cloth bikini bottom still had. "Are we going to grab the ship and wreck it until that Sez-You guy gives in and releases his prisoners?"
      Mara looked towards the ocean, bust wobbling for a few moments after her brief movement. "Some plan, but it's the only plan we got. If we're going to be stuck here then we'll make him stay here with us until he fulfills his promise to return us to normal."


14
Back in the control room Arnim and Stacey were so engrossed in releasing the robots from the bogus firefighting alarm that they failed to notice Big and Albert enter. Only when Albert softly cleared his throat did the two turncoats became aware they weren't alone.
     "Turn around, slowly, and hands up," Big said in his normal voice. "I'm enough of a bastard to shoot even a woman in the back, so no tricks." His eyebrows arched menacingly as he caught the smarmy look on Arnim's face even as Stacey looked penitent.
     "Biggy," Stacey pleaded with both voice and eyes, "as much as I appreciate all that you've done for me, there's just one thing that you can't provide."
     "You knew the deal when I hired you, missy," Big informed in a firm tone. "My sensual services cannot be held by one woman alone."
     "That's undeniable, but I don't want you as my husband." Stacey's hand stroked the front of Arnim's shirt with her bosom pressing warmly into his side. "Only with Arnie can I achieve my dream of having a family, a family of 7-foot demi-gods that will rule the world."
     Big guffawed. "And here you thought my plans were small. Now, be a good little girl and take 'Arnie' over to the corner while the adults fix the mess."
     "I couldn't agree more," came a new voice from behind Big, feminine and commanding. "You played the mad genius long enough, and you've earned a time out." Both Big and Albert felt something being pressed into their backs, and for all they knew it could've been guns. "Drop the heaters, and have your friend operate the radio and call for help."
     "Oh, why should I do that, Mrs. Kearns?" Big replied slyly, using his Paul Frees voice.
     "You can stop with the fake theatrics, Sez-You or whatever your name is. If you don't  then I'll crush you like those robots by the theater." Quickly, but not unwelcomed, Big found himself embraced from behind by Jocelyn, her 70" boulders feeling like a rock and hard place at the same time. "I may not break your spine, but your guts will be squashed like rotten fruit."
     Heh, talk about a first time for everything, Big though. Had she asked, I would've paid her money for the offer. He dropped his gun. "Albert, do oblige and place a call on the wireless for the help they require."
     "Don't believe him," said Arnim as he watched Ramona pick up the guns for her friend, leveling one at Albert as he walked to the master control panel. "He'll have the robots under his control again, and we'll all be dead." All in the room watched as Albert worked a panel, rewarded with a burst of static from a speaker grill.
     "Sounds like a radio to me," said Brook, looking past Ramona's Team America shirt-clad bust  into the room. "Shortwave too. Now he'll just has to dial an international rescue frequency..."
     "This is Bravo India Golf 70-30-34," Albert said briskly into an open microphone. "Situation Bounty, I repeat Situa..."
     Arnim threw himself at Albert, fighting for control of the mic. Ramona fired, hitting the grandiose doctor in the arm, thus allowing Big's partner to finish hurriedly. "Situation Bounty! This order cannot be countermanded!"
      With Jocelyn distracted Big reached around and grabbed the sides of the pneumatic woman's head. He pulled, tucked and rolled, pulling her down with him and using her outsized breasts to cushion his fall. He scrambled off his would-be crusher, standing next to Albert. Being ever resourceful the talented assistant had a back-up gun in his hand, pointing at Jocelyn.
     "What did you do," demanded Ramona, her gun pointing at Albert even as her friend was still threatened by one in turn.
     "The robots are now under my control," chortled Big, his normal voice hacking and coughing from the feeling of victory. "Unless told otherwise all other humans on this ship are to be killed. However, I will let you have the chance to escape. There's a lifeboat portside aft. If you manage to get to the island you'll be safe." He kicked Jocelyn's foot. "And for your information, Miss Muffins, some of your ancestors tried to crush the breath of out me before, but none had the ampleness that you possess. Even so, you wouldn't have succeeded."
     Jocelyn got up with help from Frank, both looking at Big's true face in revulsion. "I never heard of you, but no doubt my relatives would've said something if they could get past that crabapple face of yours. Do you suck limes and lemons on a daily basis to look like that?"
     Big got angry, making his face look even more like it belonged on a flesh-and-blood Walter puppet. "You're wasting time. Go!" After Jocelyn and company left the room and door secured behind them Big turned to Arnim and Stacey, gun in hand as Albert continued his work. "You're dead, 'Arnie,' and as for you Stacey I have something that'll be a capstone for your memories on this adventure. Albert! At the appropriate moment release the white snake!"




The quartet of giant women basketball players marched across the island in a purposeful manner. Randolph and Leon were carried in the cupped hands of their respective girfriends, 50 feet above the ground and just in front of breasts worthy of every fertility goddess in the history of mankind. On a hill just before the beach the group scanned the horizon. "There's the ship," said Mara, now so tall that she blocked the sun, putting the shorter Sue in the shade. "Want me to go out there and drag it back to the beach?"
      "I'm afraid you're too big to do it without damaging the ship," Sydney said, gauging the latina's size. "Your arms can't clear your boobs, and the ship will be smashed by them if you try to grab it."
      "Damn, I grew during the walk?" Mara parted her breasts as best she could so she could see her three friends in front of her better. "I must be 200 feet tall!"
      "And you have boobs that fill your lap and then some," Belinda commented. "Me, Syd and Sue will go out there. You watch after the boys."
      Mara patted the tops of her light brown breasts. For Randolph and Leon it was like watching a small parking lot ripple during an earthquake. "They'll have the be up here so I can keep an eye on them." She winked at the boys as they attempted to downplay their desire to be on those mountainous breasts. "Don't worry about them falling off. Looks like they're plenty motivated to stay on."
      "So they are," Belinda said, planting a kiss on Leon's chest before gently depositing him on Mara's left tit. Randolph joined him after getting a parting kiss from Sydney. Acting like they were already on the beach, though on one made of spectacular boob flesh, the boys laid back on the brown skin and watched as Syd, Belle and Sue entered the water and strode as if it was a mere wading pool they've entered. A moment past, and then the three girls had another growth spurt, putting them past the 100 foot mark. Their breasts grew faster and bigger as expected, becoming more visible from behind, but that wasn't all. Having fought the good fight the Titan cloth bikini bottoms on the trio gave up and failed, falling into the water like so many sails from dismasted ships. The boys could only admire the firm, small, toned backsides of their girls as they continued to walk away.
     "If all I remember from this chapter in my life," said Leon, "I'd be happy if it was just this moment."
     "Amen, bro," said Randolph, and in prefect sync they exchange bro fists.




The families made their dash to the lifeboat, finding only two boiler-bots between them and freedom. Ramona emptied her gun into one, sending it down on the deck in a heap. Jocelyn fired two shots into the video strip that served for eyes for the other one. As it flailed about both Frank and Jacob bum-rushed it and tossed it overboard.
       Feeling a tug at her elbow, Ramona looked down and found her daughter Carol looking up at her. "Mom," said the girl as she kept a watch for approaching robots, "when did you learn to use a gun?"
     "Yeah. It looked like you've done it before," added Carol's twin sister Katlyn. "Same with Mrs. Kearns."
      Ramona put the empty gun away in the inside pocket of her Team USA jacket. "It was before your time, girls. Being a defensive lawyer brings you into contact with all sorts of characters. Some truly innocent, others downright ugly. Me and Jocelyn carry guns in case some of our clients like to express their displeasure of losing cases by harming us."
     "Speaking of harm, here comes another one," said Brook. "Get'm, Mom!"
      Coming down the portside aisle the robot moved with the stiffness one would expect from its 1930s origins. Jocelyn took aim and fired, hitting just below the robot's video strip. The ungainly mechanical contrivance sparked spectacularly and fell down.
      "Showoff," Ramona said with a raspberry as she hustled Carol and Katlyn into the lifeboat.




In the control room Big and Albert monitored the progress of the escaping families as well as the approach of the giantess trio. "Well it appears they're walking with a purpose," Big said as he turned to Stacey. Both she and Arnim were in the clutches of two boiler bots, defeated and resentful. "They'll gab this ship and rip it open just to get to me, so I'll be taking my leave of you and your foolish boyfriend. With the White Snake about to menace their families they'll be just enough time to escape."
      "You can't leave us here to die!" Arnim screamed. "I forfit all my money and research to you. Please let us live!"
      "Interesting you should say that, Arnie." Big fixed his gaze on the sweating man. "As it turns out I can take one of you with me. But I'm already have enough riches to last 100 lifetimes, so that's not you." He held out his hand to Stacey. "Come with me if you want to live."
       The robot released the pneumatic woman, and in turn smothered Big in her abundant, bosomy embrace. "Oh, thank you, Big. You have my undying gratitude."
      "Save that when we're off this ship and back in my mountain lair, my wonder mega-mellons."




The lifeboat pulled away from the ship, heading for the shore. At least the families believed they were for their view was hindered by the approaching trio of giantesses. The water was up to their waists with  the bottoms of their breasts touching the ripping surface with each stride. Brook held his parents' hands out of awe from the sight presented to him. "Mom, I can't pretend this isn't having an effect on me," the boy said, sounding more mature than his actual age. "When I find a girl to marry she'll have to have boobs as big as yours."
      "That's perfectly understandable, son," Jocelyn spoke with affection. "Any girl with a chest like mine will appreciate a well mannered and considerate boy."
      Scarcely had those words been spoken when a huge shape broke the water beside the lifeboat and rose some 20 feet into the air. While it was indeed white and had the scaly body of a snake the head of the monstrous beast resembled that of a dragon. It hissed, foul air issued from the mouth, causing the occupants to nearly wretch. With lightning quickness Jocelyn drew her gun and fired, hitting the monster in the eye, making it squeal in a high-pitch howl of pain. The White Snake thrashed in the water, drenching the lifeboat occupants and rocking it like a cork.
      "That had to be the adrenaline, Jocelyn," said Frank, holding Brook in a protective embrace. "You never geota bullseye with a quick draw first shot at the range."
      "But now you pissed it off," Jacob commented as he held his twin daughters close. As if it was listening the White Snake broached the surface and looked down, its one eye glaring at Jocelyn with unmitigated hate.
      Having faced worse in court the Kearns woman wasn't impressed. She leveled her gun at the beast. "What'ca looking at? Come an' Get It, ugly!" Hissing, the giant snake lunged at the woman but a giant feminine hand grasped it by the head just short of the boat.
      "Bad snake," said Sydney as she pulled the beast up and away. "No biscuit for you. Mom, Dad, you okay?"
      "We're okay, honey," said Jocelyn, her head going as far back as it could without making her lose her balance in the boat. "You're not hurt, are you?"
      "All those wounds from fighting the Hydra have healed up, Mom. As for having these giant boobs it must be something that Sez-You jerk said about Greek gods and all that jazz. I should be flat on my perfectly cute ass with these chesticals I'm carrying."
      "Please, Sydney," said Ramona, "watch the potty mouth around Brook, Carol and Katlyn."
      "Syd!" Sue yelled, making the families cover their ears. "That snake has gone all hentai on you!"
      "What?" Unable to see due to her enormous bust Sydney nevertheless felt the lower half of the beast wrapping itself around her right leg. "Dammit! Get off me you monster!" She squeezed the snake's head which only made its coiling attempt more determined.
      Sue came to Sydney's aid, her stride causing the water to roil, making the lifeboat bob up and down that much more. "Belle, get the boat! I'll help Syd."
      Like a pair of mountains disappearing into the sea Belle's breasts were partially submerged as she bent forward so her arms and hands could reach the lifeboat. She gently picked up the craft as one would a model in a glass case. Jacob patted Ramona on the back. "You see? The women on my side of the family always turn out big and strong."
      Ramona planted a kiss on her hubby's cheek. "It's all in the cooking, hubby. We mixed together the right set of ingredients."




Located in the lower portion of the ship's bow was a small hanger. In it was a very special vehicle that Big and Albert used for their criminal endeavors. Big told something of a falsehood in that the Super Car could hold four people, but with Stacey's 70" bust the back seat would've been a tight fit had Arnim been there. "Preflight check complete," stated Albert, "we're ready to leave."
      Big nodded and smiled. "Good, good. Have  the video feed routed to Stacey's monitor. I don't want her to miss the remote shots for as long as they'll last."
     Stacey corralled her bust with her slim arms, as if stilling nervous children. "You really think they'll rip up the ship to find you and Arnie?"
     "Oh, they'll try to be careful." Big cackled. "But I have a trick up my sleeve that'll make them throw caution out the window and engage in reckless violence."


15
Arnim hadn't expected the robots to release him, and when they did he went for the control panel. Finding that the controls were locked all he could do was watch the video feed. Sydney and Sue fought the White Snake as it thrashed in the water like a salmon fighting a fishing line. Sue pulled on the monster's tail while Sydney continued to squeeze the head. Even considering the distance and metal walls Arnim heard the exertions of the women and the occasional expletive. As much of a turn on as it was to watch the primal urge to escape filled him. Seeing the helicopter on the bow landing pad made him think, and the door in the control room was unlocked....


"Well, that happened!" Sydney said after hearing and feeling the snake's head unmistakeably crush in her hand. The body went limp, uncoiling its grasp on her right leg.
     "It was like fighting my doxie to take away his chew toy," commented Sue, watching as her hands rapidly heal from the cuts and abrasions earned while grappling with the creature's tail. "Now let's get to the ship and give that Sez-You guy his options."
     "Hey, it's turning away, Sue. We better hustle." Both women strode even faster, Sydney trailing the body of the dead beast like a chain missing its pet at the other end. The ship was not only turning but picking up speed. Its only hope for escape was to reach really deep water and for the women not to be particularly strong swimmers. Given their breast size at this point it would be more floating than swimming.
     A large number of robots had gathered at the fantail of the ship, all armed with amped-up air guns. Instead of pellets those guns fired dime-sized balls that broke open upon impact. In lieu of paint they spread minute amounts of water that came from the River Styx. That is to say, the River of Hate. It took many hundreds of hits on Sydney and Sue to have the desired effect, and when the hate had them in its grip all pretense to stop the ship was dropped.
     Sue reached the ship first, her massive hand swiping away robots on the fantail like figurines on a mantlepiece. With breasts pressing and crumpling the stern Sue reached under the water and with a mighty yank pulled the huge propeller off, holding the bronze colored fixture up in the air to let it glint in the light.
     Sydney came along side and used the dead giant snake as a whip, smashing the deck and robots alike. Arnim narrowly missed being crushed, and as he scrambled to get his footing on the deck he watched as the red-headed mega-bosomed goddess bring snake down on the twin-rotor helicopter, utterly smashing it. Terrified, Arnim went back into the deckhouse, closing the hatch in a complete expression of denial.
     With a great heave Sue brought her body up and onto the back of the ship, causing the bow to come out of the water by a good 20 feet. With propeller in hand she proceeded to smash the smokestack and then the superstructure as she clamored over the increasing distressed vessel, breasts crushing metal whenever she took a moment's pause. Sydney joined in too, using her free hand and bust to push down on the deck, breaking bulkheads and causing the skin of the ship to split open. Water started to pour into the interior, wrecking equipment and those few robots left on board.
     Arnim was in the galley when the ceiling above him gave way from Sue's punishing breasts. Along with the rocking and shaking caused by Sydney the criminal doctor was sprawled on the far wall, unable to escape as an old-fashion radio hutch skidded across the floor and pinned him. It impact was such that blood spilled from his mouth, and then came the torrential influx of water...
     Picking up on Sydney's idea Sue got off the ship and, with arm-assisted breasts, pushed down on the crumpled remains of the superstructure. Hatches on deck flung open from escaping air, and water rapidly filled the doomed ship. They only stopped their exertion when the ship floundered on its side and went under, stern first. "Wow, what did we just do?" Sue said, putting her hand to her head. "I was like incredibly angry just a moment ago."
     "Me, too." Sydney said. "I mean, those bullets hardly did anything to us. Now there's no ship and no radio."
     "Perhaps it was due to the Titan blood and all that jazz, Syd. It may have made us react like wrathful gods with all those hits we took."
     "Whatever it was we're still stuck on the island. At this rate we'll get so big that even the satellites of the NRO will see us." Sydney pointed to Sue's ebony bust. "Look, the water only comes up to our knees now, and our boobs are so big we can't reach the front of them."
     Sue confirmed what Sydney was saying, for she only felt the settled water just above here knees. Plus no matter how hard she tried her hands couldn't quite reach a nipple. "Damn! We're more like balloon goddesses than boob goddesses now. Let's get back to the island before we float away."




It was nightfall, the sky seemingly unnaturally clear and bright with starlight. The four giantesses were at the center of the island, sitting in a circle. Belle had a sympathetic growth spurt, making her, Syd, and Sue at least 150 feet tall. As for Mara she was easily twice that height and had breasts that would fill living rooms in a house matched to her scale. The Kearns family and Randolph were perched on Syd's right breast, just far enough on the fleshy expanse for the giant woman to see her family. Likewise the Baines family and Leon staked out a portion of Belle's left mammary. They wondered just how much growth was left in the girls, and how soon Syd's prediction of being spotted from orbit would come true.
      "Hey, Brook," said Syd, looking down at her kid brother. "You did great in helping the family escape, and for kicking that Sez-You guy in the nuts. When we back home you can have my old room."
      Brook bent down hugged a portion of Syd's breast. "Thanks, sis. I promise to watch over your basketball trophies and make sure they get dusted every week."
      Over on Belle's tit there was another tender conversation. "Belle," said Carol, "you think me and Katlyn will get boobs like mom had before she got big in college?"
      "Yeah, we're wondering if we'll get really big just by being in close contact with you." Katlyn patted her shirt-clad chest. "You think we'll be better off with a flat-chested and cute look?"
      "Having a great set of lungs will have the boys notice you alright," Belle said, winking at Leon. "But a great personality will find that keeper of a boyfriend regardless. Having big boobs is a bonus."
      "If boobs are a bonus, then you're a billionaire may times over, Miss Belinda Baines." Those words came not from anyone in the circle, but from behind Ramona. She turned and found what looked like a man. In the starlight he was tall and wore what appeared to be jeans, plaid shirt and boots. In his hand was a flashlight, and turning it on he shined it in his face. He had Indian features, but more importantly she knew that man.
      "Hey, who is that?" yelled Jocelyn. "Is it that Sez-You guy?"
      "No," Ramona replied, "it's..."
      "Bill Spirit Talker," said the man. "You and Jocelyn represented me in a case five years ago. Illegal detention and use of a controlled substance."
      "Peyote," Ramona supplied. "You were using it for a religious service. A shaman, if I recall."
      "Yes, and I made a pledge to provide help when you and Jocelyn needed it the most. You see, the Spirit Talkers have a special relationship with the descendents of the Wilcox and Parlor families. If you don't take my word for it, then research it when you get home."
      "Having you appear here unexpectedly has the makings of something special," Ramona said. "We had enough strangeness for one day to last a lifetime."
      "You know," Jocelyn said, after briskly crossing Syd's right tit, jumping over and walking over Belle's left, "It looks suspicious you being here in any event. How do we know you're not working for Sez-You? We're you on the ship all along?"
      "Sez-You? One of Mr. Big's many aliases. That man is the bane of all women, despite his seduction talents." Bill looked at both women seriously. "Mr. Big has some unnatural power attached to him, and it was only when the girls fought the Hydra that I was able to get a fix on their location. At the risk of sounding cliche, there was disturbance in 'the force.' It took me the rest of the day to prepare and meditate to project my body here."
      "What can you do?" asked Belle, the air rumbling from her words and breath. "Can your shaman talents help us restore our bodies to normal size?"
      "Without a doubt, Belinda. Using parts of the Hydra and the White Snake I will make a medicine circle. I'll be in communion with other shamans and tribal magic men, and all of your extra mass will be liberated and spread across the world to endow women that are not so blessed in the chest."
      Sue whistled. "So millions of women will get free magical boob jobs? My little sister will be happy about that!"
      "Are you sure this will work?" asked Leon, caressing Belle's wondrous bosom in a sign of support.
      "With certainty, Leon. Their growth is being caused by latent magic, and I can use that to restore them. It's also to our advantage that they're pure and yet to know man. That is to say they're virgins."
      Even in the starlight it was clear the girls were blushing, both in face and bust. Frank look up at Sydney, smiling a fatherly smile. "Incredible, all things considering. The athletic village at the Olympics is notorious for having around-the-clock orgies."
      Likewise Jacob's knowing smile made Belinda blush all the more. "I wondered about you and Leon, especially for the last two years. With all the pressures in the world you held out against temptation."
      "I'm just glad what we did in Minnesota didn't count," Belle blurted out, covering her mouth so quickly that it resulted in a tit-quake.
      "Man, we could've done a lot more boob-play, Randy," Syd admitted while her ebony beau kissed her tit like a sailor returning to dry land.
      Jocelyn looked at Sue and Mara in turn, grinning. "You parents raised you right. Trust me, you'll be rewarded a thousand times when you find and keep the right man."
      "With you as an example we can't go wrong, Mrs. Kearns," Mara said.


Epilogue
Using some psychic urging Bill Spirit Talker had a freighter captain make a slight change in course, bringing his ship to within visual range of the island by nightfall on the fifth day. A huge bonfire was blazing on the tallest hill and in no time the world was informed of the families rescue. Telling what really happened wasn't an option, so in the time before the rescue Jocelyn and Ramona came up with a story that was, to paraphrase Sherlock Holmes, highly improbable but with no counter evidence had to be the truth. It was a tale of kidnapping done by robot-equipped mercenaries on the behest of Venezuelan oligarchs. Their plan was to make an epic porno film, building a copy of a Greek temple and tomb on a remote island with Sydney and Belinda as the stars, portraying Amazon warriors along with Sue and Mara. It was for the oligarchs' pleasure initially, but with the defeat of the Venezuelan womens' basketball team a measure of revenge was thrown in. In any event the reputations of the Ginger Giants would've suffered and nix their plans to play professionally.
      As the story went there was a fight between the Venezuelan overseers and mercenaries. The ship sustained serious damage and sank in an intense, brief thunderstorm after first hitting a rock outcropping and then sustaining hits during a landslide along the sheer eastern side of the island (to explain the damage to the fantail, superstructure, and deck respectively). The families barely made it to land with the four girls in their birthday suits, thanks to the lecherous intent of their captors. Bill used his shaman talents to dispose of the Hydra, White Snake and Cyclops remains as well as obliterating all other traces that didn't help their story, including the caskets. Dumping the powered Titan bones into the seas would've resulted in monstrous fish, so Bill burnt the remains in a ceremony, an offering to the spirits of the other world. It was through this that the last remains of the Titans were removed from the face of the Earth.
      Needless to say there was a firestorm of sorts in the international press, and it didn't help matters that the ship was indeed a registered Venezuelan vessel. Jocelyn and  Ramona took that as the price of selling the story, using the sour relations between the two nations and capitalizing on the threats already made by that nation's leadership. It would be years before the US and Venezuela were on speaking terms.
      Authorities had very little to go on regarding Arnim's disappearance. He was last seen in Neo-Tokyo at the end of the Olympics when the trail went cold. When his considerable bank accounts were emptied a few days later the speculation ran from ransom, extortion, and making a new life somewhere in the world. It was Big that took the money, giving it to Stacey when he left her in New Mexico in her new job as the head of the archeology department of the university. Needless to say attendance at UNM went up measurably solely due to her mammical 'presence.'
      The girls received all the publicity and interviews they could handle, not to mention product endorsements, consistently saying they wanted to put the whole episode behind  them and go on with their basketball careers. While they had been successfully restored to their pre-giantess sizes Bill had a few words of caution. Along with their stunning beauty they were expected to be exceptionally fertile. Twins and triplets in the first pregnancy was guaranteed along with permanent breast growth during milk production. They also retained a measure of enhanced strength and health that would be passed on to their offspring.
      In regards to Mara, having grown faster and taller than the rest, her residual gifts were far more pronounced. She retained exceptional strength and endurance, abilities she went to great lengths to conceal from all but her closets friends and family. Also her healing factor was phenomenal, and all of her descendents had her gifts by the time they reached puberty or in their 20s. Her career in professional basketball came to an end at age 30 when, during a game, she meet the man of her dreams. He was as tall as her, lanky to her goddess voluptuousness, yet the Scottish man had that something that made up Mara's mind then and there. They couldn't get enough of each other, and to remain honest they married seven months later and had nine children over the course of fifteen years. It was more than a fair trade as far as Mara was concerned, now that she was the matriarch of the MacRoy family.
      Sue held out longer, only at age 32 did she blissfully enter marriage and had a large family of her own. The Ginger Giants married early at age 23, holding off children for six years. Even so they stayed in professional basketball on and off until 45. By that time their scaled-up basketball breasts had gotten to such a size from multiple pregnancies that they were causing injuries to fellow teammates and opponents in every game. They knew the game would go on without them, and that the time for newer players to shine had come. With their millions to support them, and enduring love from their families, the red-headed, jade green eyed Sydney and Belinda looked forward to promoting excellence in all endeavors, for everyone to achieve greatness, to be... Titans.


END 49