Chapter 1

“Look at her, look at her, she’s old and ugly! As ugly as her big belly!

The old rhymes came back into Zoe’s dreams, her memories replaying events from the distant past, when she had been just a child. She frowned in her sleep, turning into her sheets as the heat of a too warm spring and one fry too many conspired to send her into a spiral of bad dreams. She hadn't had that dream in years.

She was a kid again, in her old neighbourhood, looking around, playing on the pavement and generally doing her best to prevent Ronny and his little gang from being assholes, as much as she could. She had been a veritable spitfire then, confident and able to stand up to anyone. She missed that confidence, dearly so.

“Old Lady Fugly” the other children laughed in her dreams, shapeless forms of spite and juvenile cruelty.

They were twenty or so when they had been four in reality, and the decrepit house they surrounded looked more like a ruin than anything else. Miss Beckworth’s home was old and not tidied up, but not that much. But here, it was truly a house-shaped detritus.

“Come out, come out, you old hag!”

“Hey, stop it!” she yelled, barging among the children and driving them away with nothing but her presence.

In fact, like it happened often in dreams, it was just her and Ronny now, the other children never having even been there. They looked at each other and Ronny, with his too big teeth and rat-like nose dwindled, until he was indeed a rodent, scurrying away from Zoe. And then, Miss Beckworth would come out and give her a few candies because she was a nice old lady.

A loud alarm jostled Zoe awoke as she swore loudly.

She hated mornings. In dreams, she could revive her past, before she had been humbled and humiliated, when Ron Hosward was just Ronny and not the man who had taken her virginity in a dark room in High School, just to prove her he could and there was nothing a midget like her could do to prevent him from taking it. Back then, she had confidence. Nowadays, she didn’t even dare speak up to herself when her order at Starbucks came out wrong.

She got out of bed and walked around her small apartment, her minuscule 1m30 and lithe frame looking pixie-like in a place which was meant for taller people. Only her face made clear she was an adult. No child looked that worn out by life. With a sigh, she got up her stool to prepare her breakfast and opened her computer to look at the news. More specifically, at the Godlings. And the way they changed the whole world around them, with such ease.

They had appeared three years ago now, to a day, and they had changed everything. Some sort of cosmic event had bathed the Earth and peoples with a rare mutation had changed. There weren’t more than thirty, worldwide, who had been bathed by the radiation and come out of it different. Superior, in all ways, as distant from baseline humanity as Zoe was to a bacteria, or so was the saying.

The Godlings were huge, men and women all – but mostly women. Not huge because they were fat, even if at least one of the ladies seemed to love being huge that way. No, they were tall, impossibly so, and sculptural, all and one. The smallest couldn’t have been less than five meters tall, a size which would have made Zoe mad with envy if the very idea that she couldn’t have escaped notice if she was that tall hadn’t terrified her.

She herself was so small that most people simply didn’t so much as see her. Even other women towered over her, most of them anyway. She had gotten used to it. But the Godlings paraded around, with bodies impervious to all harm and capabilities which made everything humans had ever discovered and built upon look insignificant.

One of the few men among them had wanted to prove that nothing Humanity had invented could hurt them, so he had moved to an isolated place in the US, a desert, and had had the strongest atomic weapon dropped on him, point blank. When the dust settled, he was utterly unharmed, not even a little singed. The only proof that the bomb had had an effect on him was his raging hard-on. He had explained that the slight tingling of the explosion had really gotten him horny. Zoe never learnt how he calmed his dick down.

Not that she wanted to think about it. Living in a world where thirty individuals were basically all powerful, super-sexy and reshaping it with contemptuous ease was already hard enough to deal with without considering the implication of them being horny as fuck. She already had to fight to keep her job as a low-level paper-pusher! They probably remained together anyway, only one of them could keep up with their bodies now, she decided.

“Fuck, we have a review today” she reminded herself, moaning in despair.

In three years, the technology had skyrocketed because of the Godlings, who seemed to invent new sci-fi tech daily. And because those creations were so advanced that normal humans couldn’t comprehend them – yet they had promised – they had to create automatons to use them. And because those automatons were so efficient, they pushed billions of people to joblessness.

There had been riots at first, some people were unable to accept this change. One Godling, a young woman who couldn’t have been older than twenty but loomed at six meters tall, curveless and yet breathtaking, had been enough to break down the spirit of revolt. Nothing the rioters had tried even made her move a little. When they had exhausted their fury, she had warned them, and her words were now etched in the mind of everyone on Earth.

“You tried to defeat me. You failed. Now go home, sleep and tomorrow you’ll have a better life than when you slaved away for some to make profit off your backs. Or don’t, and I’ll have to punish you and none of you will see that blessed day.”

Perhaps, if she had been a human, it wouldn’t have been enough. But Godlings carried themselves with such an aura of majesty, and their words always conveyed such conviction that they could convince anyone. Whole cults had formed around them, worshipping them, as if they weren’t born like everyone else and thus couldn’t make mistakes. Zoe really hated the fanatics and lickbooters, but she didn’t dare say it out loud, of course.

“They’d just kick me in the face if I did anyway” she huffed, gaining bravery thanks to being alone with no one to hear her, finished her mousy meal of an apple and a slice of bread with butter on it. And then she got ready for work.

That those people worshipping the Godlings still had got a point didn’t make them more sufferable. The Godlings had made true on their promises, and people were happier than ever. The world was cleaner, with more biodiversity instead of less every hour. Climate change was being tackled, or so they said, and poverty seemed to become a thing of the past. Still, doing nothing at all felt strange to a lot of people.

And while programs existed to ease the life of those people who needed to work, Zoe was not interested in those. She loved her work in a cubicle, isolated from everyone but her colleagues, who knew better than to talk to her anyway, since she wasn’t really a social person and she was, truly, beneath them anyway. If she had to get out and be around people to occupy her days, she’d collapse, she’d bet on it.

Surprisingly enough, her line of work hadn’t been among the first impacted. But now, it was happening. Godlings accrued wealth at such a speed that it had only taken them months to basically outbuy anyone who wasn’t one of them. In practical terms, all the companies, down to the smallest where her parents had worked all their lives were property of the Godlings. And they seemed to make good use of those businesses.

Not that it made the upcoming review any easier to deal with, for poor little Zoe. Her world was bound to be upended in a matter of hours, she was sure of it. If she was lucky, whoever was sent there to supervise their work wouldn’t have time to deal with easily overlooked Zoe Zafiakis. She’d perhaps have one more day left alone. Then back to her tiny appartement, never to get out of there again.

“But is it really a good thing?” she wondered aloud as she walked toward her bathroom, to get cleaned for the day. “I mean, it’ll be one more day to feel terrible about my future.”

Those thoughts were pushed in the back of her mind, as she struggled to enter her own bathroom. The door was too heavy for her to open easily, and even inside, everything was just a tad too tall, making her feel inadequate even at home – but she didn't have the money to renovate her place anyway – she didn’t even own it, in fact! So she dealt with it, twice a day, at the very least.

Ever since Ron had… done what he did, she always felt dirty – and a part of her was thankful she hadn’t grown up much. She still looked remarkably like a child, in size at least, and her thin frame made her somewhat unattractive – or at least less attractive – in this day and age. Taller, bustier, women got the men and she was fine with it. Ron had definitely convinced her that she wanted nothing to do with those hairy apes.

She became more agitated as she disrobed. She always felt dirty, ever since that time, and no amount of scrubbing seemed to be able to wash that sensation away entirely, but it helped. And Zoe felt she needed all the help she could get today, so she was extra scrubby. She usually spent ten minutes under her shower before fidgeting uselessly in her home and then going to work, but today she cleaned herself manically for well near twice that amount of time.

When she finally got out, her skin was wrinkled all over her hands and feet and she still was a nervous wreck, but at least she felt as if the stain on her wasn’t as prevalent as before. It was already a win in her book. She put her work clothes on, picked up whatever she needed for the review and walked toward the nearest subway station. She was too small for a car, apparently, so she had never bothered getting one.

She waited for five minutes before getting on the crowded train. She tried her best to not be bothered by the press of bodies around her, but she saw her. A young woman, probably around 20 or so, tall, busty like those OnlyFans ladies were and looking at her. She wasn’t always in the subway, but when she was Zoe was squeamish. She tried to move away but she couldn’t and she ended up next to the woman. She had arrived three years ago or so but it seemed like forever for Zoe.

She tried to look up at her, to silently plead her not to do what she always did when events conspired to put them together next to each other in a crowded place. To no avail. She couldn’t even truly make eye contact with that woman, the prow of her breasts was simply too massive, each easily twice as large as Zoe’s head. She felt a large hand pressing on her ass and, a second later she was engulfed in the woman’s cleavage.

It was unbearably hot, and sweaty. Its owner loved the way she didn’t even try to wiggle free – Zoe knew it was pointless. When those huge breasts had closed on her head the first time, she had tried to shake free, but the woman had been able to keep her trapped without even truly trying and Zoe had given up on struggling in a matter of seconds. She just had to shoulder the humiliation and the fact all her makeup would come undone – hence why she never put any before reaching her cubicle.

They never so much as exchanged a word. The woman used poor little Zoe as her plaything, humiliating her with such ease the small woman wondered what she got out of it. Probably just a rush of power and a way to actually exact revenge against someone weaker than the curves that men used to objectify her. Zoe almost felt bad for her. To be this callous, she probably had to suffer a lot of unwanted attention. Without thinking, Zoe patted her back.

They remained stuck like that for well near ten minutes, until, finally, the woman let go of her. She had never done that before – when she was there, Zoe always missed her station. She blinked and looked up at the woman, who seemed nervous now. Almost apologetic in her behaviour. Finally, she broke her silence.

“You get off the subway at Alamo Station.”

“Yes” replied Zoe meekly, even if it wasn't  a question, surprised by the depth of the woman’s voice.

“Good.”

A second later, Zoe was pinned against her again, but not face first. Now, it was the back of her head against the soft pillows of those huge breasts and she felt safe, not used. It was surprising. They didn’t talk any longer, and when her station arrived, she was finally able to get out. She looked over her shoulder, and the big breasted woman looked at her with – almost pride. So strange.

She quickly put that change in her routine – however welcome it was – back in the past as she got out of the station and walked briskly toward her office building. Throngs of people, all of whom were significantly taller than she was, walked alongside her, some with briefcases and the like, threatening to hit her without even noticing her. She was used to it however and she managed to reach the main door with relative ease.

“Hey Zoe!” beamed the receptionist, an older woman, well in her fifty, but still quite attractive, as far as Zoe could tell.

“Hey Annie!” she replied, smiling weakly at her before making a beeline for the elevator.

“Wait!” called the receptionist. “Since you’re here so early, you need to go to the seventh floor, the reviewer is waiting for you. She explicitly said to have you in as soon as you’d arrive.”

“She did what!?” squeaked Zoe, who felt as if she’d faint.

“Yeah, sorry…  but I’m sure it’ll be great, don’t worry! She sounded very gentle” explained Annie, trying to comfort her – to no avail.

Zoe entered the elevator and pressed the button indicating the Seventh Floor, with incredible dread. She had never been at this level, it had been redesigned the previous year and, as far as she could tell, no one had been in there ever since that day. In fact, the button 7 hadn’t worked for months! And now, it lighted and brought her to her doom. Zoe would have cursed, if she had been at home.

Instead, she waited with pure terror and escaped the elevator with shaky limbs and jelly in her knees. There was nothing but a large space in the Seventh Floor. That and a huge set of doors at the other side of the room that seemed to comprise roughly a third of the whole floor. The door looked absolutely massive and she couldn’t fathom why anyone would want it here. She approached it timidly, as it was clear the review had to happen beyond it. But she was deathly afraid now.

The doors opened as she approached them, revealing another, smaller, empty room, and an even larger pair of doors beyond. She entered that room timidly, shaking but as she hesitated, she felt the door in her back close. With a yelp, Zoe turned and tried to open it, but she couldn’t even make it move a little!

“Calm down” suddenly told her a voice like no other she had ever heard, one which couldn’t be described as human. “Everything will be fine, Zoe, I swear.”

Very slowly, the petite woman turned around. As she now expected, she saw the reviewer. A Godling, and a big one at that! She had to be at least 8 meters tall, as far as Zoe could tell – and she had a very sharp eye for gauging the size of peoples and things, even that giantess sitting behind a monstrously large desk. Which hadn't been here a second ago. In fact the whole room, perhaps the whole floor was different, and Zoe felt nauseous. She focused on the Godling. Long blond hair flowed over her shoulders and bright blue eyes seemed ready to bore holes in Zoe’s very soul with the intensity of their gaze.

And that body! The woman was curvy and muscular in equal measures, which meant very much of both. She was larger than the lady in the subway – not by much proportionally speaking, but enough for it to be noticeable to Zoe. And, thus, her muscles were massive. She didn’t look freakishly muscular however, it seemed more as if her huge muscles gave way gently to huge curves and vice versa. It was something that was beyond human, something that made Zoe squirm, reminding her of how inadequate she was.

She didn’t look one year older than twenty five, making the thirty-one year old Zoe feel self-conscious, with her lack of make-up, her messy hair and her general air of smallness and weakness. That woman was everything she wasn’t and it made her terrified instead of jealous. Such a being couldn’t possibly consider her worth anything! If she had wanted to see her so quickly, it had to be because her review was abysmal!

“I guess you don’t recognize me” chuckled the Godling, a large, amused smile on her face, making her look even more beautiful, somehow. “I have changed quite a lot since we last saw each other as fellow humans. And so have you it seems” she added, sounding a little sad. “You had more fire in you, back then!”

“I’m sorry Ma’am, uh your Divinity?” meekly replied Zoe, whose throat felt as tight as when Ron had held her against the wall and - “I… I… I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

“No darling, I certainly don’t. I recognize the little girl who was always there to discipline rude boys and thus earned candy and words of wisdom from the old witch of the neighbourhood.”

Zoe frowned as she tried to make sense of the words she was hearing. She furrowed her brows, doing her best, in spite of the mixture of awe, terror and feeling of inadequacy which always washed over her when she talked with someone face to face – only magnified a thousand times by the nature of the colossal woman in front of her. And then, it finally made sense.

“Miss Beckworth!?”